Saving Avery

by Angela Snyder

  I stare down at the fancy linen napkin I'm nervously twisting in my trembling hands. I've never been able to have a conversation with my father without him making me feel like a child. With as much courage as I can possibly muster, I say, "Dad, I want to divorce Nathan."

  My father sputters in his glass of water, nearly choking. He coughs violently and looks at me with flared eyes. "What?" he asks as if he cannot believe what I just said.

  He's as blind as the rest of them. He has no idea what happens behind closed doors. No one ever does. On the outside looking in, we are the perfect couple. Nathan is a rich and successful doctor, and I am a trophy wife who lives a life of luxury. A perfect fairy tale with a happily ever after. The end. What they don't know is the hell I am put through day in and day out and the torture he inflicts on my mind and my body. I would trade everything --- the money, the social status, the clothes and the cars to get away from him. Every single thing.

  "Now, Avery, you know I'm in the middle of a campaign. Nathan and his family are a very big part of this. They have donated a lot of money, and I owe them tremendously for their support. If you two are having a little tiff, I'm sure it will blow over soon. No sense in stirring the pot if we don't have to. Right?" he asks eagerly.

  I wring the napkin tighter in my hands. "What if it's more than a little tiff?" I ask.

  "Whatever is going on between you two, I'm sure you can work it out," Dad says, reaching across the table and patting my hand.

  "I don't want it to work out," I say sternly, standing my ground even if my voice is wavering, a telltale sign of my true emotions. "Dad, I need your help. I can't do this on my own." I look at him pleadingly. I am almost to the point of begging.

  "Avery," he says in a scolding tone that makes me scowl. "I need this campaign to go off without a hitch. Do you understand how important this is to me…to our family?"

  In just the matter of a few words, he has dashed my hopes and dreams away. I can feel the panic rising in my chest. Swallowing hard, I simply nod, not trusting myself to speak. With tears trying to force their way into my eyes, I stare out the window and watch the kite surfers on the water.

  "That's my girl." He gives my hand a light squeeze and then releases me. His fork digs into the seafood on his plate. Before the scallop reaches his mouth, he asks, "Now, are you sure it's nothing you can't work out with Nathan?"

  I waver. I want to tell him everything, but I am so afraid of him not believing me and casting me off for the sake of his career. And I don't think I could handle that reaction right now from him. How do I tell my father the truth when he doesn't even want to hear it? "I wish mom was here," I whisper.

  "I know, sweetheart. I miss her too." He chews slowly and then takes a sip of water. "My fundraising event for my campaign is in a few weeks. Nathan told me you will both be attending," he says, changing the subject. That was always something he was good at doing --- deflecting attention away from the real issue.

  "I guess so," I mutter.

  "Avery, I need you and Nathan there. And I need your sister and her family there as well. Have you talked to Allison recently? My secretary can't seem to ever catch her at a good time to discuss the fundraiser."

  I shake my head in response. He doesn't actually need us there. He wants us there solely because if I'm not there for a potential photo op, it will make him look bad. My sister Allison and I have to appear with him like the all-American family with our handsome and rich husbands and her perfect baby while the photographers snap pictures. What a joke.

  When Allison and I were young and he was a single father running for state representative, we were pawns in his campaign. We were told to smile pretty for the press and pretend like everything was perfect when, in reality, my sister and I were struggling every single moment of our lives without our mother and with the fact that we had a father who was never around. Even as an adult I'm still pretending to be happy on the outside when I'm dying inside, and deep down that makes me so angry. I'm so damn tired of pretending.

  "So you'll be there?" he prompts.

  I turn my attention from the water and back to him. "Wouldn't miss it," I say with lucid sarcasm dripping from my tone.

  He tips his chin towards my plate. "You barely touched your lobster."

  I stab my fork onto my plate and push a forkful of lobster in my mouth to appease him. He smiles and resumes talking about his campaign and the upcoming fundraiser.

  When I finally leave the restaurant, I am disheartened. Lunch didn't go exactly as I had planned in my head. I thought my father would at least hear me out, but that obviously isn't going to happen. If he won't help me, there is only one person I can turn to --- my sister. I don't know what it's going to take to actually leave Nathan and file for divorce, but I know I need help. He would never let me leave willingly. I know that for a fact.

  I will need a place to stay where he won't be able to find me no matter how hard he looks. And I'll need some cash to get by. Nathan was able to track me by my credit card usage before, so this time I know I can't leave a paper trail. I will also need protection in case he would find me, but I know I can't turn to the police for help. Nathan has too many ties with his father being the chief of police, and I don't want to risk being placed in a psych ward again.

  There are three important things I need from my sister, and I hope she doesn't turn me down as easily as our father. Allison is my last resort on a very short road of opportunity. It's going to take a lot to leave Nathan once and for all. And it's not just something I need to do. It's something I have to do.

  *

  MAX

  It's in the late afternoon when I hear Avery's car pull up to the house next door. I'm lounging on the back porch soaking up the afternoon's sunrays after a run on the beach. Several minutes later, she emerges onto her back patio. I turn my head and wave. She looks upset, but she attempts to hide it with a smile. It's the fake smile that she puts on for everyone to show them that she's fine. But, in reality, she's not fine.

  I stand and move to the edge of the porch. "Everything okay?" I ask.

  "Yeah," she says quietly.

  I've been waiting all day for the chance to ask her out tonight, so I'm hoping her sour mood doesn't affect her answer to my question. "Do you have any plans later?"

  She shakes her head slowly.

  I rub the back of my head with my hand. Why am I always so nervous around this girl? I never had this much trouble asking out anyone before I met Avery. "How about dinner and a movie?"

  A real smile cracks through the fake one and spreads quickly across her lips. It's a smile that I see so rarely on her, and she wears it well. "Sure. What movie are we going to see?" she asks.

  I'm stunned by her answer, and it takes me a while to register that she actually said yes. I was mentally prepared for the exact opposite. Something definitely changed between us last night. "Your choice. We'll leave at six."

  "Okay. I'll meet you out front then." she says before disappearing back into her house.

  A big goofy grin is plastered on my face and stays there while I get ready for our date tonight --- our first real date out in public. After a long shower, I slip into a pair of dark deconstructed jeans and a light blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up on my forearms. Socks and sneakers are next. I decide to wear my favorite pair of black and white Vans. I have no idea how Avery is going to be dressed, so I hope I'm not too casual.

  When I lay my eyes on her as she walks to my car, I no longer care whether we are both casual or not. She looks hot as hell in dark skinny jeans, heels and a black blazer over a white sequin shirt that glitters like diamonds in the sunlight. Her long hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and her bangs are swept to the side so I can get a full view of those lovely eyes of hers. Her makeup is dark and smoky again, and I love it. It makes her look hotter, if that’s even possible.

  Noticing my stare, her step falters. She glances down at her outfit and then back up to me. "Do I look all right?" she asks n
ervously.

  It's hard to imagine a girl that gorgeous being so self-conscious. It's as if she doesn't even realize how beautiful she is. I scowl inwardly when I think that maybe she doesn't know because her husband never tells her or perhaps tells her the exact opposite. Pushing that terrible thought aside, I grin and tell her, "You look amazing."

  She looks relieved, but still a little nervous. I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s feeling that way. My stomach feels like I just stepped onto a roller coaster. I don't think I've ever been this nervous about a date before.

  Stepping around the front of my silver Escalade, I open the passenger side door for her. She climbs in, and then I slip behind the steering wheel. Turning the key, the engine roars to life. "All set?" I ask. When she nods, I pull out of the driveway. Coasting down the highway towards the main strip of restaurants and businesses, I ask, “What are you in the mood for?”

  “How about Big Fred’s Burger Joint?” she suggests.

  I stare at her in disbelief before turning my attention back to the road. I thought she was going to suggest some fancy place where you have to wait an hour to get in and the bill is the amount of someone's rent check. Instead, she chooses a small diner with a menu that consists of greasy food and milkshakes. “Have you eaten there before?” I ask. I'm insanely curious for her answer.

  “Years ago,” she says. “They have the best burgers.”

  I chuckle and shake my head.

  "What?" she asks, obviously confused by my reaction.

  "You just don't seem like the type of girl to go to a place like that. I figured you would want lobster or sushi or ---."

  Before I can finish my thought, she cuts in with, "Well, I guess you don't know me well enough yet."

  Grinning from ear to ear, I reply, "I guess not." I glance over at her and see that she's smiling. "But I want to get to know you, Avery," I say with sincerity. My hand finds hers and lightly squeezes.

  Her eyes meet mine, and she whispers, "Ditto."

  *

  We get to the burger joint, and Avery surprises me by ordering a greasy burger, fries and a chocolate milkshake. What she ordered sounded so good that I decided to order the same exact thing.

  While we eat, I make small talk by asking about her favorite things. Her favorite type of music is oldies from the '50s and '60s because it reminds her of her mother. Her favorite movies are all classics as well. "What's your favorite season?" I ask.

  "Winter," she says without any hesitation.

  Everything about this girl throws me for a loop. I would think that summer would be her favorite season since she lives right on the beach. I ponder her answer before asking, "Is there a reason for that?"

  "I think I like it so much because it feels like everything has a chance to start over." She catches my gaze for a moment and continues. "Everything is dead and cold, and then a few months later in the spring it all gets to be reborn. Winter is cleansing in a way. A fresh coating of snow is the purest thing, covering everything in a sparkling blanket of white, making it beautiful no matter how dirty or impure it was before. Even the ugliest weed can look pretty when it's covered in snow. And then in the spring, everything has a chance to grow again and start over. Winter is like a clean slate, so to speak."

  I have a feeling there is a deeper meaning in what she is saying, but I try not to overthink it. If she thinks she is impure or ugly in some way, she is wrong. She is beautiful both inside and out, and I've only just begun to scratch the surface.

  Avery takes a sip of her milkshake from the thick straw. I try to avoid staring at her, but that proves to be extremely difficult. When her plump pink lips wrap around the straw, I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust. I can still remember how soft those lips were against mine and the way she tasted. I stifle a groan and force my eyes to my plate and try to focus on something other than her mouth.

  We're able to finish eating without any combustion on my part, and I pay the check before we head out the door. "The movies are starting in about twenty minutes, so we should probably head there now," I say as we get into the SUV. When I start the engine, Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird comes on the radio. I reach for the volume knob at the same time she does, and our fingers bump against each other.

  "Sorry," she says quickly.

  "I was just going to turn it up."

  She grins. "Me too."

  I crank the volume and glance over at Avery. She closes her eyes and sways gently to the music. "You don't strike me as a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan," I say as I pull the SUV out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Although she didn't strike me as a burgers and fries kind of girl either, I think to myself. She's definitely full of surprises. I'll give her that.

  She laughs. It's a breathy, genuine laugh, and it sounds wonderful. "Who couldn't possibly love this band?"

  "That's very true." I listen to the lyrics of the song, and it kind of reminds me of Avery. She's like a beautiful, rare bird, and her husband has clipped her wings. He keeps her steeled away in his gilded cage, never allowing her to be free, never allowing others to see her true beauty. I'd love to see her be able to leave him and be free to do whatever she wants to in life. She deserves so much more than she has right now.

  Avery softly sings along, and I strain to hear her over the radio. I remember she told me last night that she liked to sing in the shower. Losing herself in the music, she starts to sing a little louder, and I can clearly pick up on her voice. She sounds incredible. "You should do karaoke," I suggest, glancing over at her. I would love to hear her voice secluded with only music in the background.

  She laughs again, and it's music to my ears. I can see a slight blush creep onto her cheeks. "That is something I've never tried."

  "Really? Never? Well, you should. You'd be very good at it," I say confidently.

  Her smile slowly fades. "I would be too embarrassed to be on stage in front of people," she confesses.

  "What could you possibly be embarrassed about? You're gorgeous, funny, smart, and you can sing."

  She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and stares out the window. I know that's a habit she has whenever she's nervous. Immediately I regret saying what I did. She really has no idea how amazing she is, and her constant self-doubt tugs at my heartstrings. I reach over and pull her hand into mine. My thumb skates over her soft skin, and I'm struck with the realization that she's not wearing her wedding ring. I grin. She's giving this a chance. She's giving us a chance. Even if we haven't spelled it out or put into writing what we're doing, I feel like there is something between us, something more than just friendship. This feels like a real date, and everything else doesn't matter when we're together.

  "Have you lived in North Carolina your whole life?" I ask in an attempt to cut through the tension still lingering in the air.

  "Yes. Well, I was actually born in California."

  "California. Wow." I look over at her and see she's staring at our joined hands as my thumb caresses her skin. When I first took her hand, it was balled into a tight fist; but now she's slowly relaxing. I take that as a sign of trust.

  "My mom was actually an actress. Her stage name was Olivia O'Dell, and she met my father while he was on a business trip in Cali. They fell in love, and nine months later I came into the world. They moved to my father's estate in North Carolina when I was only two months old. And a couple years later my sister Allison was born. My mom always wanted to return to Hollywood, but…" Her voice trails off as she returns her gaze to the window. She's instantly in another place, another time.

  I give her hand a gentle squeeze, and it seems to bring her back to the present.

  "She never got the chance," she says with a small sigh.

  "Was she in any big movies that I would know of?" I ask.

  "Live Again and One More Time were her biggest hits. She starred in romantic comedies mostly, so I'm sure you haven't seen them. You don't strike me as the romantic comedy type," she jokes, squeezing my hand playfully.

  I c
huckle and squeeze back. "I would definitely take a De Niro movie over a romantic comedy any day, but I would love to watch your mom's movies sometime with you."

  A huge smile appears on her face, and she says, "I'd like that."

  We reach our destination, and I'm actually kind of disappointed that the ride wasn't longer. I love talking to Avery and hearing her throaty laugh and little sighs. Just being around her, in general, makes me happy. It's a scary thought when I think of how miserable I'm going to be after this week is over.

  I shake my head, dispelling the thought. I have this entire week with her. I'm really enjoying her company, and I think we get along great. I'm not going to mope around and constantly think about it ending. Instead, I'm going to revel in the time we have together, no matter how short it may be.

  When we walk into the theater, there are three movies playing. One is a horror flick, which Avery immediately says no to. I'm totally fine with that since I'm not big on scary movies…although I wouldn't mind her jumping into my arms if she got scared. The other two movies are complete opposites. The one is a total guy's pick with nonstop action, guns and fighting, and the other is a total chick flick.

  I glance at the posters. "Well, there's only one way to settle this."

  She looks at me with apprehension.

  "Rock, paper, scissors," I say deadpan.