1929

by M. L. Gardner

  Ava glanced up and immediately went back to her letter writing, sitting on the side of the bed. In one graceful movement, he rounded the bed and pulled her up by one arm, spun her around and dipped her back, kissing her. He pulled away briefly with a lopsided grin. “Honey, I’m home.” He leaned in again, and his lips landed on her cheek.

  “Jon, what are you doing?” she asked with annoyance.

  “Well.” He lifted her up. “I was trying to come home and sweep you off your feet, but you don’t look very . . . swept.” He raised one eyebrow curiously. She backed away from him, gave a little shove in the process with an annoyed look and bent to gather her scattered papers.

  “Everything go okay here today?” He pulled off his wool cap and scratched his head.

  “No better, no worse,” she said quietly.

  “Well, then, what’s wrong?” he asked. She ignored him and continued gathering her things. “Ava, I thought–” She spun around, stopping him mid-sentence.

  “Look, Jon.” She crossed her arms and exhaled roughly. “Last night, well, it doesn’t change how I feel.”

  “But,” he began, staring at her in disbelief, “I thought things were okay with us now. I mean, with how you were last night.”

  “That was purely . . . need,” she said firmly. His head fell slightly as he gaped at her. He looked down over himself and back at her.

  “You . . . used me?” he cried.

  “No more than you used me,” she said coldly and turned away.

  “Hold on. I didn’t use you. I was the one saying I love you, remember? I said that I missed you, and I was so happy to be close to you again.”

  She looked back before leaving the room. “I’m sorry you misinterpreted it.”

  April 10th 1930

  Ava sat staring at the silver and white box on the bed. The tag read Happy Birthday in beautiful script. She had forgotten her own birthday and struggled with whether or not to open it. She wondered briefly if it would sting him to find it unopened on the bedside. She didn’t wonder what was inside, only whether or not to take the opportunity to emotionally slap him one more time. She sighed heavily and decided to wait, gathered her clothes and set out for the bathroom. She found the door locked and waited patiently outside, leaning against the wall. A few moments later, Jean opened the door, and she met his smile with a cold, unyielding expression.

  “Good morning, Madame.” Ava walked into the bathroom, closing the door just as Jean squeaked out, “Happy Birthday.”

  An hour later, she sat down to breakfast alone and picked at her oatmeal. Margaret had taken Jean out to the garden with her after their breakfast. On the counter, she saw unfrosted layers of what was going to be her birthday cake. Everyone will expect me to smile while they sing and be happy as I blow out candles. She was tempted to grab the platter and run out to dump the layers in the thick shrubs that lined the front yard. She decided she would go to Claire’s instead and hide out until bedtime, if necessary. They can just eat cake without me. And choke on it.

  ∞∞∞

  “Jon, I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but I really don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Aryl said, leaning against the side of the boat and shaking his head slowly.

  “Well, I think it will work,” Jonathan insisted. “If she thinks some other gal in town has taken an interest in me, it’ll get her attention. Lately, all I’ve done is mope around and beg her to talk to me. I plead with her to stay with me and I swear, I think she likes it.”

  “Of course, she does, dummy. You’re paying retribution,” Caleb snickered.

  “I shouldn’t have to. This isn’t my fault. The entire relationship happened before Ava, even Jean happened before Ava, and I had no idea the kid even existed! I know it’s a shock and not the ideal situation, but she is hell bent on making me hurt every single day and I’m sick of it. I think she needs to be under the impression that there's a little competition. Make her realize what she’s taking for granted.” He crossed his arms, delighted with his master plan to win back Ava’s affections. Aryl shook his head with a grim look.

  “No. I wouldn’t go through with it. You’ve got a woman scorned, a pregnant woman scorned.” He shook his head. “I think you’d be walking into very dangerous territory, my friend, and me and Caleb can’t run this show without you.”

  “We’ll see how her birthday present softens her up. I’ll keep it in my back pocket for now.”

  ∞∞∞

  Ava found Claire sitting on the swing in the backyard, blankly staring. Her voice pulled Claire from her faraway gaze. “What are you dreaming about?” Claire blinked a few times to adjust her eyes.

  “Oh, nothing, really.”

  “No, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

  Claire brought her shoulders up to her ears and held them there for a second. “It’s just that . . . .” She dropped them and smiled. “It’s just that now that we’ve decided to have a baby, I’m not sure if it’s the best time, you know? Things still seem so unstable. I feel like everything could fall apart in the blink of an eye. And what then?”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve got some time to think about it. It only happened on the first try with me because it was the cruelest possible twist of fate.”

  “Ava, what’s happened to you?” Claire asked brusquely.

  “You know full well what’s happened to me.”

  “Yes, I know, but . . . you’re not doing yourself any favors by alienating yourself from Jonathan. You’re only making it harder on yourself.”

  “Oh, am I? If Aryl had his bastard child dumped in your lap, I suppose you would handle this with so much more grace and tact than I have. You’d just accept him with open arms? Tuck him in at night and bake him cookies?”

  “I’m not saying that, Ava,” Claire said, frustrated. “I just think that there’s nothing you can do to change the situation. So, you might as well try and make the best of it. Aryl tells me a lot of what Jon tells him while they are out. He loves you, Ava, and this whole situation is killing him. He wants to make it better, he just doesn’t know how.”

  “He can put it back on a boat to Paris, that’s what he can do,” she said coldly.

  “He’s just a child, Ava. This isn’t any more his fault than yours.”

  Ava refused to answer her, staring forward with a set face as they swung slowly. “You don’t understand,” she spoke softly. “No one understands except–” Her eyes blurred with tears. “Except Maura.”

  Claire turned to face her. “And what would Maura tell you to do?” Her tone was icy. Ava pushed off the swing and quickly walked away. “Ava, don’t leave,” Claire called after her.

  ∞∞∞

  Jonathan found Ava in the room, lying on her side, staring out the window. He spotted the present unopened in the garbage bin as he turned to walk back out of the room.

  “She won’t come down,” his mother told him when he sat down to dinner. “Said to have cake without her.” Jonathan began eating while Jean filled him in on his day.

  April 13th 1930

  Sunday afternoon was beautiful and despite a light, salty breeze, the perfect temperature for a picnic. Ava spread a blanket under the shade of a nearby tree and opened her book. The others gathered around the picnic table as Jonathan introduced Jean to each of them. Arianna immediately began having a conversation with Jean in French, and he seemed overjoyed to find someone to converse with in his native tongue. Everyone, despite Ava’s occasional glares from afar, thought he was the most adorable thing. They gushed over his manners and remarked in very hushed voices of how much he looked like Jonathan, who was beginning to take on the beam of a proud father. Claire began to talk to him about drawing, and he pulled out some of his pictures from his knapsack to show her. Like Jonathan, she looked at the drawings and back to Jean repeatedly, astonished. “These are amazing, Jean,” she said.

  Arianna made sure Jean understood. “Magnifique! Superbe!”

  “Merci,” he replied to Claire.


  “That means thank you,” Arianna said.

  “We know,” Claire reminded her, laughing.

  Jonathan called Ava over when everyone began to eat. Whether ignoring him or not hearing him, she didn’t respond, so he walked over to where she lay in the shade.

  “We’re all eating now.”

  “That’s nice,” she said, eyes on her book.

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” he asked with a hint of frustration.

  “Maybe in a little while.” She glanced at the group encircling Jean. Jonathan turned to leave, muttering a frustrated, “I give up.” as he went.

  After lunch, Aryl pulled out a baseball and a couple of gloves from his bag. “C’mon, Caleb,” he said as he tossed him one of the gloves.

  “Nah, I’m gonna stay here with Ahna.” He tossed the glove to Jonathan and went back to rubbing Arianna’s back. “You’ll have to make do with him.”

  “Funny.” Jonathan got up and walked past Ava, far enough away to catch one of Aryl’s powerful throws.

  After some impressive throws, Jonathan saw his opportunity.

  She stood about fifty feet past his friends, playing with a small dog. He took a deep breath, pulled his arm back, twisting to the side and threw the ball with every ounce of strength he could muster. It catapulted through the air, arching so high and traveling so fast that Aryl didn’t even bother to run for it but simply watched as it flew overhead and well past the group. The collective oohs and ahhs from the group caught Ava’s attention, and she looked up.

  “Sorry!” he yelled. “I’ll get it.” He started running toward the ball and as if rehearsed to perfection, a young brunette was already heading to pick it up for him.

  Once well past Aryl, he slowed to a walk and checked to see that Ava was still watching him. The woman now walked toward him with the ball, and Jonathan flashed his most charming smile.

  “You lost your ball,” she said, smiling.

  “Well, thank you. You want to play?” he asked, using his eyes on her, dazzling and deep blue.

  She blushed before replying, “Oh, no, thank you.” Ava sat up a little straighter and craned her neck.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. He was being cruel now, using his charm to his advantage. This poor unsuspecting girl had no clue that his only intent was to get his wife’s attention.

  “Debbie,” she said with a smile and twisted one leg on her toe nervously. “What’s yours?”

  “Jonathan,” he said, taking a step closer, drowning her with his eyes.

  He continued to talk while the stunned group looked on. Ava threw daggers with her eyes while Aryl walked over and stood by his side, looking none too happy.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.

  “I told you earlier,” he said quietly and turned back to the girl, speaking seductive sentences in French, using his eyes for emphasis. “Il était très agréable de vous rencontrer. J’espère que mon idée n’était pas une faute et ma femme me bat plutôt.”

  The girl giggled and blushed, too smitten to make any further intelligible conversation. She looked completely spellbound as Jonathan flashed one last smile over his shoulder when he walked away. Ava sat up against the tree with crossed arms and watched from afar. Red crept up her face as her blood boiled. Aryl smacked him on the shoulder.

  “Jon, I thought I told you that wasn’t a good idea. What the hell were you saying to her anyway?”

  “I said 'it was nice to meet you and that I hope my idea was not a mistake and my wife beats me for it.'”

  Aryl couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, she will.”

  Jonathan nibbled on leftovers at the picnic table for a good ten minutes before he joined Ava.

  “Looks like you made a friend,” she said curtly.

  “Oh, her? Just someone new in town. Nice girl,” he said with a far off voice as he glanced in Debbie’s direction. Ava glared at the side of his head.

  “Did you need to talk to her for so long? I mean, how long does it take for you to take a ball from someone and say thanks?” He turned to her, his eyes attempting to work their sapphire magic on her as well.

  “I was just being nice, Ava.” She was the first to break the stare. He leaned toward her slightly. “Are you jealous?” he whispered.

  “No!” she insisted, gathered her book, and walked over to sit with Arianna.

  Aryl and Caleb were trying to teach Jean how to throw, and the girls had the blanket to themselves. Claire reported rapid-fire as Ava sat down, “Okay, Aryl just told me that Jon only did that to make you jealous, so you’d pay attention to him. He wanted me to tell you because he’s afraid you’re going to kill Jon, and he doesn’t want to have to do his share of the work on the boat.”

  “I’m not going to kill him,” she assured. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were red, her lips pursed.

  “What are you going to do?” Arianna asked. “See, Caleb and I may have come to an understanding about certain things, but if he were to flirt with another woman in front of me . . . .” Her eyebrows arched and she let out a long, slow whistle that sounded much like an incoming mortar. Ava shrugged as if she didn’t care, but her insides were churning with jealousy. Jonathan was holding a charming smile for her when her eyes flickered back to him. She looked away quickly, angry for letting herself want him again.

  It was sunset when everyone headed to the cars. “See you Saturday!” Arianna yelled, waving. Caleb turned in Jonathan’s direction, moving his hand to his mouth as if he were throwing back a drink. “See you Saturday.”

  “We decided to get together at our place while you gals are doing the baby shower,” he explained briefly, and held the door open for Ava. Jean climbed in the backseat and as Jonathan pulled out onto the road, he yawned. Jonathan smiled at him over his shoulder.

  “Tired? I think Caleb and Aryl wore you out, didn’t they?”

  “They are very nice,” Jean said. “I think they like me.”

  “Well, why wouldn’t they?” Jonathan asked. Jean glanced at the back of Ava’s head. “Yes, they like you. Arianna would like you to spend the weekend with them sometime. Would you like that?” he asked, grinning.

  “Oui, please!” Jonathan smiled, and caught Ava watching him. For the first time in weeks, her face was soft and curious.

  ∞∞∞

  “I was jealous.” Ava sat down on the bed, staring out the darkened window as Jonathan readied for bed. Clouds had quickly moved in after the picnic. There was no moon to be seen tonight. He stopped tying the strings of his sleeping pants and looked at her.

  “Were you?”

  “What would Maura do?” she whispered. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself for weeks. If she were me, what would she do? How would she handle this situation? And you.” Jonathan sat beside her, close enough to show he cared but far enough to give her space.

  “I’d like to think she would try to make the best of it.”

  “She would. I just don’t know that I . . . I can’t promise you . . . I feel like everything . . . .” She gave up trying to complete the sentence and hung her head to hide her tears. He put an arm around her, and she slumped over against his chest. Silent tears and a rigid form gave way as the brick wall further crumbled and fell away. With sagging shoulders, she softened and he gathered her in closer as she disintegrated, sobs filled with anger, betrayal and loneliness. He held one arm around her waist, supporting her weight and the other behind her head as she cried into his neck. Arms limp at her side, tears streamed down her cheeks and onto his chest. With a set jaw, he endured the sting of each one as it trailed over his heart and he let her cry for a long time.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “What can I do?” he begged, helpless. He would do anything for her, short of sending Jean to an orphanage, and he feared that’s what Ava wanted him to do.

  Silent moments passed. There was nothing he could do, but there was certainly much he could say.

  “I don’t see her when
I look at him,” he said honestly. She tensed slightly. “I know that’s what you think. But I don’t. I see a lot of me, and what isn’t me, I pretend is the best of you,” he said softly, with a squeeze around her waist. “I only think of Elyse when you cry or yell at me or act like you hate me. It reminds me of how much I hurt you, long before I even knew you.” Ava was quiet and he cautiously continued. “It also reminds me of how she acted when I told her I wouldn’t marry her, and she threatened to abort Jean. I had to accept the fact that she would. There was nothing I could do back then. But I’d like to think there’s something I can do now, if you’ll let me.” She wiped her face but wouldn’t look at him.

  “Would you do anything?” she whispered. His stomach twisted in knots.

  “I won’t send him away, Ava.” He tried to infuse as much love as possible into his words. “He has no one. And, even though it’s a disruption in our life, he’s mine. I can’t just turn my back on my responsibility.” A silent, emotional standoff lasted for several moments.

  “You asked Elyse what she expected of you. Now I’m asking you what you expect of me.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Don’t leave me. Don’t stop loving me. I can’t do this without you.” He put a hand on her lower back. “I love you more than anything.” He took a deep breath and resigned himself to explain everything if he needed to but prayed he wouldn’t. “You were the only thing to pull me back, Ava. Nothing else on earth had the power on my heart and soul enough to pull me back from the edge of my grave.” Her foggy, emotionally charged mind tried to rationalize his words about that dark time. It was Maura that had changed him. Her green eyes saw things, things that lurked deep in the core of a person. Her wise words infused with hard love worked miracles on the soul. She let her mind wander to Maura’s last letter, her advice and most of all, the sentence she had written on the bottom of each and every letter since Jean’s arrival.