Ava's Prize

by Cari Lynn Webb

  “Or...” Ava’s disgruntled voice muted Kyle’s thoughts. “There’s no discussion at all because your idea gets voted down instantly. Then you drop to last place. Last place.”

  The words vote and last place circled through Kyle’s mind. Something hummed inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in far too long. The first stirrings of an idea.

  Ben set his hands on his hips. “Aunty, you know your idea for hair dye that changes color with a person’s mood wasn’t good.”

  Kyle placed his hand over his mouth and chin to cover his smile. Even he doubted there was a market for mood-changing hair dye and he, the one without an idea, had no right casting judgment.

  Dan laughed. “There really wasn’t anything to discuss.”

  “It could be hugely popular.” Ava set her hands on her hips and stared them down. “But we’ll never know because you crushed it before I could debate its merits.”

  “What merit is there in having hair that changes to green when you’re jealous? No one really wants green hair.” Dan nudged Ava in the shoulder, knocking her out of her standoff mode. “You really need to come to the table stronger in the next round.”

  Kyle laughed.

  Ava pointed at him. “You can’t side with them unless you’ve agreed to the rules.”

  Rules? That hum shifted to a buzz. Kyle’s idea solidified into more than a throwaway thought. Their game could be a contest. First place. Last place. Rules to follow. Perhaps a contest for an original invention. An idea that would keep his parents retired in comfort, Penny’s Place open and his sister’s college tuition funded through her graduation. Then Kyle would finally bring his family back together like they’d been before his grandfather’s death. “You have rules?”

  “Every good game has rules.” Ben looked at him as if Kyle shouldn’t ask such ridiculous questions. “It needs to be fair.”

  Kyle nodded. His contest would be fair, too. But could it work? Could one simple contest keep him from financial ruin? “What are the rules?”

  “Everyone gets a turn. You can tell your idea anytime. Any place, except church and anytime Dad tells you to be quiet. Otherwise you can’t interrupt.” Ben held up his fingers and counted. “This is the most important one—you can’t make fun of an idea.”

  “Unless they’re mine,” Ava added.

  “We couldn’t not comment on the hair dye, Ava.” Dan jabbed his elbow in Ava’s side. “Even my dad nixed that idea and he likes every single one you have.”

  Ava shoved Dan back. “Your dad is a good man.”

  “What does the winner get?” Kyle asked. A family game was all fine and good. But his contest needed a winner. In a viable contest, there needed to be a prize.

  “Bragging rights.” Dan’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if nothing else mattered.

  Again, that worked for a family game played in the car or a restaurant or at home. But Kyle needed more than bragging rights to entice entries.

  The more that he needed was money. Money motivated people. There’d be no entry fee required. He’d offer a twenty-five-thousand-dollar grand prize for an original idea, provided the winner agreed to sign away their rights to the idea. If his team—the one he’d need to pull together—could develop the idea into a prototype, he’d give the winner an additional twenty-five-thousand-dollar bonus. Then he’d submit the winning idea to Tech Realized, Inc. to meet his deadline and fulfill his contract. Everyone would win.

  Kyle searched for a downside, but couldn’t see one and wanted to hug Ben.

  A hug was hardly enough to thank the boy who’d possibly saved Kyle from bankruptcy. Instead, he touched his medical-alert bracelet. He didn’t know why Ben wore the bracelet, but he knew that bracelet made the boy different. Set him apart from his peers. Kyle remembered all too well having his mom bring special food to baseball practice and classmates’ birthday parties until he’d stopped RSVPing with a yes. He remembered all too well how it felt to be different, when all he’d wanted was to be the same. Different might help an adult, but it would hinder a child. “Ben, how would you like to tour my idea tank? Your dad and aunt could come, too, if they wanted.”

  Ben tugged on his dad’s arm. “Can we?”

  “We have to check our schedules,” Dan said. Before Ben could argue, Dan lifted his hand, palm out. “But I don’t see why not.”

  Ben pumped his fists against his sides. “Can I take pictures?”

  Kyle nodded. The kids at school would require proof of Ben’s claims about spending the day with a so-called celebrity. Kyle would ensure Ben had whatever he needed to be the envy of his classmates. “As many selfies as you want.”

  “Cool.” Ben stepped to Ava’s side. “Aunty, you have to go, too.”

  “I’m not sure,” Ava hedged.

  “But you might come up with better ideas if you see how good ideas are made,” Ben countered.

  Ava crossed her arms over her chest. “I already have good ideas.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Please come with us.”

  Kyle held his breath, waiting for Ava’s response. Totally ridiculous since he didn’t care if she joined them or not.

  Finally, Ava hugged the boy. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  Kyle released his breath. One quick tour. One more afternoon with Ava. That wouldn’t be too much of a distraction. Nothing Kyle couldn’t handle.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AVA BUSIED HERSELF with the sun-kissed-yellow teapot whistling on the stove and tried not to track her mother’s every step from the kitchen into the family room. Today was a good day. With every step Ava’s mother took, her auburn curls bounced rather than wilted against her forehead. She’d opted for her cane over her walker—another improvement.

  Lately, her mom’s bad days seemed to outnumber the good days by almost two to one. Ava should be celebrating these moments with her mom. Not leaving her alone. “I’ll call Dan and cancel.”

  Her mom settled both hands on the cane. Her voice lowered into parental override mode—the one that demanded, not requested. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “It’s no big deal.” Ava set the tea mug on the end table beside the couch, along with the bamboo tea chest, filled with her mom’s favorite tea blends. She avoided looking at her mom, worried her too-perceptive mother would notice the hint of disappointment in her gaze and call her out for lying now. “I wasn’t really interested in touring Kyle Quinn’s think tank anyway.”

  “Ben expects you to be there.” Her mom lowered herself onto the couch and settled the cane within easy reach. “You can’t disappoint that precious boy.”

  She also couldn’t leave her mom alone. That made Ava feel like a disappointment as a caretaker. Ben was young; he’d recover. Her mom’s good days weren’t guaranteed. Her stomach clenched around her love for her mom. How many stars had she wished on over the years to end her mom’s pain? How many prayers had she recited since middle school? She ignored that knot twisting through her chest and concentrated on gratitude. She was grateful for this day. “Ben will understand if I don’t make it.”

  “Well, I’m ordering you to go.” Her mom dropped a ginger tea bag into the mug; her tone dropped into the criticism category. “You need to do something other than work and look after me.”

  “I like my work.” Perhaps not as much as she wanted to, but her work fatigue was temporary. Sleep and a night off would improve her outlook. Ava tugged the teal throw from the back of the couch and tucked the fleece blanket around her mom’s lap. “Even more, I like to spend time with you.”

  “I’m supposed to be doing the looking after.” Her mom touched Ava’s cheek. Regret stretched into the lines fanning from her mom’s pale blue eyes and slipped into her voice. “I’m the mother—it’s my job.”

  “You did that while I was growing up.” Ava took her mom’s hand and held on, giving and absorbing her mother’s strength. P
leased she could be here for such an amazing woman. “Now it’s my turn.”

  Her mother tugged her hand free and smashed the tea bag against the side of the mug as if that would squeeze the bitterness from her voice, too. “You should be making your own life and not have to...”

  Ava stopped her. “Don’t say it.”

  “It doesn’t make it less true if I keep silent,” her mom said.

  “Taking care of you has never been a burden,” Ava said. That’s what family did for each other.

  Ava and her older brother had promised each other they’d protect their mom like their father never did. They’d vowed their mother would never be alone. Brett had cared for their mom while Ava had served her country. Now it was Ava’s turn to help her family.

  “At least your brother dated and finally married.” Her mom’s words chased Ava into the bathroom.

  She grabbed her mom’s afternoon meds and walked back to the family room.

  Her brother would return from his internship in Washington, DC, before Thanksgiving. Then her mom could switch her attention to the possibility of a grandbaby and away from Ava’s lack of a dating life.

  Ava was more than happy to leave dating to the unsuspecting singles in the city. The ones foolish enough to believe in love, who easily surrendered their hearts to a man. Ava wasn’t about to give her heart to any man. She couldn’t trust he’d stick around, and that’d only lead to heartbreak. She prided herself on being smart enough not to invite heartache into her life.

  Her older brother would stick with his new wife, Meghan, through the good and bad, sickness and health, like he’d vowed on his wedding day last year. But Brett was the exception.

  Men stuck until a true test came along. It was then they revealed their true heart. An argument or disagreement or relocation wasn’t life changing or a true test. However, a diagnosis of MS at the age of twenty-six with two children in diapers—that was life altering. That was a real test. One Ava’s dad had failed when he’d bailed out on his family. Life had gotten hard and suddenly more was expected from her father than he’d ever planned to take on. He’d run away: far and fast.

  Ava refused to follow in her father’s fleeing footsteps. “I have a very full life. No dating or marriage required.”

  “Working all the time is not a well-balanced life.” The spoon rattled against the plate under her mom’s tea mug, along with her mother’s disapproval.

  Ava’s two jobs kept them in their three-bedroom apartment. Her jobs paid for the in-home nurse and therapists that helped care for her mom each week. Her jobs granted her brother and his new wife the opportunity to concentrate on starting their own family without worrying about their mother.

  Except Ava had lost her second part-time job as a CPR instructor yesterday. The company had hired an intern full-time and no longer needed Ava. The extra paycheck had covered the costs of her mother’s medications and the utility bills. Ava hadn’t told her mom, refusing to give her mother any more worries. She’d figure out the finances.

  Ava was determined to do what her father had failed to do: stick beside her mom every step of the way. If that meant she had to work more than an average forty-hour week, she’d do that and more for her family. “Well, this is the life I choose.”

  “Roland tells me that balance is the key to happiness and contentment, which in turn leads to longevity in life.” Her mom’s voice was thoughtful and smooth like the honey she added to her tea.

  “Roland also likes to say that stretching is the gateway to the soul.” Ava swiped a chocolate from the happy-face candy dish on the end table and aimed the tip of the chocolate kiss at her mom. “We both know that being able to curve your spine into a full backbend until your feet touch your head is painful and awkward. Hardly soul cleansing.”

  Her mother’s laughter melted through Ava, satisfying her more than chocolate ever could.

  “I admit there are a few things Roland says during our yoga sessions that don’t seem to apply to real life.” Her mom tossed another candy at her.

  Ava caught the chocolate in her free hand.

  Her mother dipped her chin and eyed the candies in each of Ava’s hands. “But he’s not wrong about the rewards of always seeking balance.”

  “I’ll seek balance soon.” After she balanced her checkbook. Ava popped a chocolate into her mouth.

  Maybe she wanted more or something different on those nights when reality and memories blurred into the same nightmare. But bullets ripped open flesh, no matter if the victim came from a battlefield or the city streets. People suffered whether from a lost limb after encountering an IED on a desert road or a miscarriage on the bathroom floor of a homeless shelter. Ava could help the wounded. Just like she helped her mom. She’d worry about herself later.

  Her mother looked at Ava over her glasses and shook her head. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, but a good daughter.”

  This was Ava’s world. Letting a guy in would upset the balance. Relationships required time that she didn’t have. She was already committed to her family and her work.

  Her mom tugged on the drawer of the end table, but her fingers slipped, unable to keep her grip around the handle. Ava opened the drawer. Her mom had lost more strength, but not her spirit. Ava had to hold on to the positive like her mom always did. Ava was sure she’d find another job soon. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “Take your time. Rick will be here within the hour. We’re playing Rummy.” Her mom took a deck of cards out of the drawer. One corner of her mouth kicked up with the cheer in her tone. “When you play cards with us, you ruin the fun by calling us out for cheating.”

  Ava straightened, set her hands on her hips and frowned. Knowing Dan’s dad would be with her mom calmed her unease. Still, she’d take the tour of Kyle’s place and head back home. “When I win, I like to know that I earned it fair-and-square. Makes every win that much more rewarding and worthwhile.”

  “Perhaps.” Her mom sorted the cards across the coffee table. “But Rick and I both cheat. Trying to outwit the other one makes the game more entertaining.”

  The light moments offset the painful ones for both of them. Maybe Ava just had to discover more light moments. “Fine. Next time, I’ll cheat, too.”

  The burst of surprised laughter from her mom bounced through the room, pulling Ava’s smile free.

  “You have too much integrity to stoop so low.” Her mom nodded, her own smile lingering. “It’s one of your best qualities. Just don’t judge the rest of us too harshly.”

  Ava shoved her phone and keys into her sling bag on the kitchen counter. “I don’t judge people.”

  Her mother covered her cough of disagreement with a sip of tea.

  “There’s nothing wrong with expecting people to be...better.” Ava had worked hard and sacrificed for everything she had. The easy road hadn’t been opened to her or her brother. She wouldn’t have taken it anyway. She didn’t operate that way. She struggled to understand people who seemed to have a lot of what her grandmother had used to call “quit” in them. Her father had too much quit in him.

  “Well, today I plan to be a better cheater at Rummy than Rick,” her mom said.

  Ava smiled. “Call me if you need me.”

  “I’ll be more than fine.” Her mom waved her hand toward the door. “Get out and find some fun.”

  Ava would prefer to find a help wanted sign. She blew her mom a kiss and took the stairs to the lobby. Outside, she paused on the sidewalk and tipped her face up toward the sky. Fall was one of her favorite seasons in the city. The sun warmed the city’s locals and the tourists scattered like fallen leaves swept away in the breeze. Ava crossed at the intersection to cut through the park.

  A couple strolled along the paved path toward the fountain, their laughter entangled as tightly as their linked arms. A mother pushed a stroller while her young son scrambled after her,
a balloon gripped in one hand, an ice cream cone in the other. Shouts echoed from a group of college students embroiled in a rambunctious game of flag football. Others lingered on blankets, books in hand, headphones plugged in, soaking in every ray of the bright Saturday sun. Ava kicked a soccer ball back to a father. His daughter skipped in front of a soccer goal made with orange cones, her ponytails swinging against her bright soccer jersey that matched her blue cleats. The park pulsed with fun, relaxed and easy and welcome. Ava kept walking, her steps rushed as if she feared the trees would join branches and prevent her escape, forcing her to stop. Forcing her to have fun.

  She slowed her steps, crushing her ridiculous thoughts into the gravel with the heel of her running shoe. She could relax and enjoy a day in the park like everyone else. She simply chose not to.

  Later, she’d stop and smell the roses at the floral shop’s outdoor stand on her walk to the Pampered Pooch. She wanted to see if her friend Sophie had any senior animals that needed fostering. Ava and her mom hadn’t fostered for several months, but they both always enjoyed the extra company of a senior rescue. Surely a four-legged friend in their house would add balance to Ava’s world.

  Ava blamed her mom and Roland for her errant thoughts. She didn’t even attend yoga classes on a regular basis. Yet Roland’s affirmations about a fulfilled life followed her around like a shadow. She picked up her pace again, as if she needed to outrun her mom’s chiding laughter and Roland’s disappointment.

  Who cared if she didn’t actively search for fun? She usually accepted extra hours at the hospital or filled in to teach a CPR class or worked a music festival to bolster her bank account. Then she slept better.