by Mark Goodwin
“Yes.”
Chip pulled into the parking lot of Venus. “Do you like it?”
“It’s stable. People will always need dental care.” Ava let herself out of the car.
Michael and Raquel had been making out in the back of the car. They paused to get out when Ava closed her door in a rather firm way.
Chip walked beside Ava. “Wealth Management is stable also. It’s not lucrative in and of itself, but I get to watch the market and position myself to pounce when the stars align.”
“And they only line up when things are bad?” Ava walked through the door while Chip held it for her.
“The saying is that stocks take the stairs up and the elevator down. Dramatic moves like what we’ve seen over the past six trading sessions are the best environment for exploitation. Trying to day trade in a market that’s slowly creeping up is like watching paint dry. Can I buy you a drink? To make up for not being a Ross supporter?”
“We were drinking straight up margaritas.” Ava walked up to the bar.
Chip ordered top-shelf margaritas for Ava and Raquel, and Woodford Reserve on the rocks for Michael and himself. Chip handed his card to the bartender and instructed her to keep the tab running.
The music was loud, but not so loud that Ava had to yell. The club was dark, but festively colored lights moved across the walls and floor.
Ava soon had her salt-rimmed martini glass. “Thanks. And I’m not necessarily a Ross supporter. I don’t love everything he stands for. But Markovich frightens me.”
“A lot of the stuff Markovich says is just rhetoric. He has no intention of fulfilling half of those promises. It’s like Ross with abortion. He’s never actually going to try to ban the practice. Just like Higgins, or Bush, or Reagan, or Ford. They have to say it because that’s what their base wants to hear.”
She sipped her drink. “But Markovich, a huge chunk of his base is Antifa and they’re looking for a radical overhaul of the country.”
“He’ll throw them some bones, but real reform takes time.”
“Unless you’re talking about Russia, or Cuba, or China, or a handful of other communist revolutions. In those cases, private ownership and freedom of religion existed one day and were gone the next. You don’t belong to Antifa do you?”
“No. I’ve been to a few SJWL meetings to help them stay focused, but not Antifa.” Chip shook his head. “They’re the fodder, useful idiots.”
“The less-equal animals on the farm.” Ava hoped Chip would see how hypocritical his view sounded.
“I thought we were going to talk about something else.” Chip put his arm around Ava’s back. “Tell me about yourself. Are you from Austin originally? Where did you grow up?”
Ava sipped her drink and began chatting away about herself. Opening up to strangers, especially a male stranger, was something very uncharacteristic for her, but each drink seemed to make talking a little easier.
CHAPTER 13
For we have spent enough of our past lifetime in doing the will of the Gentiles—when we walked in lewdness, lusts, drunkenness, revelries, drinking parties, and abominable idolatries.
1 Peter 4:3 NKJV
Laser beams floated through clouds of smoke, which emanated from machines positioned at various places around the nightclub. The DJ played rhythmic music, which had grown louder since Ava and the others had arrived hours earlier. She could no longer hear nor be heard without yelling. She communicated with Raquel by texting, even though they were never more than a few feet apart.
“Let’s dance,” Chip said with his mouth near Ava’s ear.
She’d lost count of the straight up margaritas and nodded.
Chip led her to the dance floor where she allowed herself to forget about her worries and to conveniently put aside Chip’s disagreeable qualities. Time flew by as she drank in the moment. It was the first time in a long time she’d let herself feel anything but pain, fear, misery, sorrow, loss, anger, or mistrust.
She was unsure how long they’d been dancing when her throat felt parched and dry. “I need some water,” she said loudly near Chip’s ear.
He nodded and led her by the hand back to the bar. He ordered two large bottled waters for them.
Raquel came up to Chip and spoke to him, but Ava couldn’t hear what she was saying. Ava held her hands out as if to ask Raquel what was up.
Raquel held up one finger and sent Ava a text which explained they wanted to get out of the club for a minute. They were going to Chip’s apartment, which was only blocks away so they could smoke, then they’d come back.
Smoke? Why don’t you smoke in the parking lot? Ava texted her back.
Raquel read the response and shook her head. She held up her thumb and index finger to her mouth, mimicking the action of hitting a joint.
“Oh.” Ava watched Chip as he settled up the tab. She called out loudly to him, “I don’t smoke!”
He nodded to let her know he heard her and held up his hand to let her know it was okay. Even so, Raquel and Michael led the way out, and Chip followed. Ava figured she’d either go along for the ride or sit at the club alone for who knows how long.
Once outside, Ava voiced her opposition again. “Guys, I don’t smoke. I don’t really want to go.”
“You don’t have to smoke,” Raquel assured her.
Michael had his arm around Raquel with his hand on her butt. “It’s not like you’re going to get a contact high. Besides, your office doesn’t drug test. Raquel would have been fired long ago.”
“You make me sound like a junkie!” She playfully slapped Michael on the chest.
“We’ll be right back,” Chip said.
“Then maybe I’ll just wait here,” she said.
“I make a really good pina colada,” Chip replied with a wink.
Ava sighed, “Raquel says big girls don’t drink Slurpees.”
“Oh, this is no Slurpee. I use Malibu Coconut Rum, Myers Dark Rum, with a Bacardi 151 floater. It’s unlike any pina colada you’ve ever tasted.” Chip held her hand as they walked to the car.
They arrived at Chip’s apartment in a matter of minutes. It was a sprawling loft-style flat with exquisite furniture, stained concrete floors, and large paintings on the wall. The only interior wall separating the living space from the kitchen and dining areas was a floor-to-ceiling fish tank. The tank was filled with hundreds of tropical fish glowing in the soft light which illuminated the entire apartment. Chip switched on some slow hypnotic music, which was delivered via built-in speakers in the walls and ceiling.
“Wow! This is quite a place. This isn’t the condo you just bought, is it?”
“Thanks, I like the finer things in life.” Chip looked Ava up and down. “And no. I’ve lived here for two years. The new place is just an investment. I’ll rent it out. I don’t like being a landlord, but when the government bails out the market, the dollar is going to get pulverized. Once that happens, I don’t want to get stuck with a boatload of worthless currency.”
“And the Maserati, is that an investment?”
“No.” Chip laughed. “I lost fifteen grand when I drove it off the lot. But it was worth it. Spend some, save some, invest some.”
A lot of the things Chip said sounded wise to Ava, while others made no sense at all. She was perplexed about him. He was cute, and he obviously knew how to bring home the bacon. Wait a minute, she thought. I’m just here for a fun night out. I met this guy in a bar, of all places. This will never be anything serious. Who cares what his political views are?
Raquel came around from the other side of the aquarium with a big joint in her mouth. She took a long drag and passed it to Chip. He took a short hit and offered it to Ava.
She’d never smoked pot. But then again, she’d never left a bar to go to a guy’s house. She considered it for a moment but finally said, “I’m gonna pass.”
Chip passed the joint to Michael. “I almost forgot. I’m supposed to be making you my world famous pina colada.” Chip filled his b
lender with ice, then opened a cabinet which was stocked with various bottles of liquor.
“Looks like you’ve got your own bar.”
Chip smiled and continued constructing his frozen libation. Once it was finished, he filled two hurricane glasses, topped them each with a cherry and passed one to Ava. “Cheers.”
Ava toasted him. “Raquel will probably want one of these.” Ava took a sip and walked to the other side of the aquarium to find Raquel. She wasn’t there, and neither was Michael.
Chip followed Ava, taking a seat on the couch.
Ava looked toward the hallway to see a closed door to what she imagined was a guest bedroom. “Looks like we’ve been abandoned,” she said to Chip.
“Looks like it.” He smiled and sipped his drink.
Ava sat down next to Chip and looked at the aquarium. “It’s very peaceful.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks.” He kissed her neck.
She let him.
Five minutes later, they were lying on the couch, Chip was kissing her, and his hand was slipping below her waist.
Ava recalled the time she’d snuck out of the house when she was sixteen to meet boys at a party. When she’d returned home, her mom was waiting up. Lee had left two years prior to that incident, so her mom was waiting alone, crying, disappointed in Ava. She’d never forgiven herself for that moment; for letting her mom down—just like Lee. She’d vowed to never ever do anything like that to her mom again. She’d kept that promise—until now.
Ava pushed Chip off abruptly. “I need to go. I have to walk my dog. He’s been there alone all night.”
Ava got up from the couch and grabbed her purse.
“Hey, hey, hey. What did I do?” Chip asked as he tried to put his hands on Ava’s arms.
“Nothing. It’s not you. I just need to leave.” Ava started for the door.
“Why don’t you relax for a while? You didn’t even finish your drink yet.” Chip stood between her and the door.
She tried to walk around him. “No thanks.”
Chip backed up toward the door, blocking her exit. “I’ll take you back to the club, or home, or wherever you want to go. But I don’t want you to leave upset. I thought we were connecting.”
She stood motionless waiting for Chip to move. “I’m not upset, and you’re a fine person, but I really need to leave.”
“If you’re not upset and I’m such a great guy, then why rush off?” Chip stepped forward, putting his hands on her hips and trying to kiss her neck.
“Stop it!”
“Easy there. Just calm down.” Chip persisted with the advances as if he weren’t going to take no for an answer.
Suddenly, Ava snapped. She pushed Chip back toward the door and kicked him between the legs. He doubled over, falling to the floor and looked up at her in agony and shock.
“I said, I’m leaving. Now stay down on the floor, or I’ll start screaming and call the cops. I’ll tell them you tried to keep me here against my will!”
Chip sat on his fancy stained concrete floor with both hands between his legs. “Go! Get the heck out of here before I call the cops, you crazy witch!”
Ava flung the front door open and walked out, slamming it shut as she left.
Her anger had turned to tears by the time the elevator reached the lobby. She took out her phone and called Charity.
Her friend sounded groggy. “Ava? What’s up? It’s late.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Can you come get me?”
Thirty minutes later, Charity stood next to Ava in the small frozen-foods section of the all-night convenience store four blocks down from the Riverview Apartments. Charity wore a pink velour sweat suit and a pink ball cap to cover her bed head. Her swollen eyes showed that she’d been in a deep slumber a half an hour prior. “The Haagen-Dazs Trio comes in coffee, caramel, or blackberry. I’m not recommending the coffee at this hour.”
“One of each.” Ava used a napkin from the counter next to the hot dog condiments to wipe the runny mascara from her eyes.
“I can’t eat a whole pint. Just a taste is all I want.” Charity held the freezer door open waiting for Ava to make her selection.
“One of each, plus whichever one you want. I’ll eat what’s left over tomorrow.”
Charity took an extra caramel Trio for herself, and one of each of the other three. “Okay, I guess you’re having a Trio trio.”
Ava smiled at the futile joke.
“Do you want something that isn’t sugar? Pizza, Hot Pockets, burrito?”
“Just ice cream.” Ava’s reply sounded mopey and buzzed.
“Okay, lets’ get you home.” Charity put the four containers on the counter.
Ava insisted that she pay. Then, the two girls returned to Ava’s apartment; and to a dog that needed a walk.
Charity stuck the ice cream in the freezer and accompanied Ava to take Buckley outside. She put her hand on Ava’s shoulder while they walked. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but it’s probably easier to hear now than tomorrow when the hangover kicks in.”
Ava monitored Buckley’s leash as he sniffed around. She didn’t protest the lecture headed her way.
“You know this is because I love you,” Charity began. “But you have to make some decisions. I understand that you’re hurting. Like me, you’re disappointed in Pastor Rob. But on Judgement Day, Pastor Rob is going to have to answer for his actions, and you’ll be called to account for yours. Pastor Rob won’t be able to blame you, and you won’t be able to blame him. Nor will you be able to blame Lee, nor Robert, nor your biological father.
“I also know that you miss your mom. Heck, I miss your mom, she was a wonderful person, full of light, and joy, and faith. But that faith was hers. If you want faith, you’re going to have to fight for it. Jesus is real. And Satan is real. And the war that is going on all around you, the war for your heart, it’s real.
“You have to decide if you believe in Jesus. If you do, then you need to start living like it. I’m not talking about going to church or giving money to church, or even praying. That’s part of it, but you have to know deep down inside that He is real to you and that He is your Lord. If not, it’s probably best that you find something else to do. There’s no reason to waste your time with all that religious stuff if He’s not real to you.
“I know Jesus was real to your mom. You could see it in her eyes. Faith flowed from her heart. And I think part of what you did was to please her and make her feel better. That may even be commendable, but she’s gone now. And it’s time for you to figure out if you’re going to have your own faith. But if not, don’t think you’re going to ride into the kingdom on your mom’s coattails. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.
“I understand that Jesus is a man, and you’re really struggling to trust any man, even the Son of God.” Charity paused to watch Buckley for a moment, then continued. “And I understand that God is your heavenly Father. You’ve got every reason to not have much confidence in fathers, I get that. But God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit—they’re different. They aren’t like people. They’re not flawed, they can be trusted. They’ll never let you down.”
Ava just listened. Charity was cutting her open, like a surgeon getting to the root of the problem. And Ava knew she was right. She just didn’t know if she was ready to trust anyone, even God—or especially God.
CHAPTER 14
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.
Proverbs 20:1
Ava woke to the sound of Buckley snoring on her bed. She looked at her clock. “12:30! Oh no, you must be about ready to explode! You poor dog.”
Awakened by her movement, Buckley lifted his head.
Ava quickly jumped up and put on some shorts to take Buckley out. Her head was spinning, and she felt sick. When she made it out to the living room, Charity was sitting on the couch. “Hey, you stayed all night?”
“Yeah, you looked like you
were in pretty bad shape.” Charity smiled. “How you feeling now?”
“Rough, but I’ve gotta take Buckley out.”
“I walked him about an hour ago.”
“Really?” Ava said. “You’re a saint. I was wondering why he wasn’t begging me to go out.”
“I know you were kinda out of it last night, but do you remember what we talked about?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Ava looked down at Buckley’s food and water bowls, which were both filled. “You’re right.”
“And?”
“And I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe that God would heal my mom. But he didn’t. He took her. Out of four parents, she was the only one I had left. I needed her, Charity. And God took her. I mean, who does that? Does that sound like the kind compassionate God you hear about in Sunday school?”
Charity crossed her legs on the couch. “You’re blaming God for the consequences of sin. Your birth mom died having you. That’s a direct result of the original sin in the garden. So is cancer, when you think about it. The ground was cursed and made to bear thorns and thistles. We’re made out of that cursed earth. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise when we have so many problems with these bodies that are made out of that condemned dust; thorns and thistles.”
Ava shook her head. “My mom didn’t eat that stupid apple. Neither did my biological mom. It’s not their fault. Why should we have to pay for what Eve did?”
“But if your mom would have been in the garden, she would have eaten the fruit. So would you. And so would I.”
Ava huffed. “I’d like to think not. I hope we’d all be smarter than that.”
“Romans 3:23, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” Charity said. “Each and every one of us have been willing participants in the fall. Adam and Eve just beat us to it, that’s all. Whether it was eating of the forbidden fruit, or stealing, or telling a lie, or failing to honor our father and mother, we’ve all disobeyed God, and we’re individually responsible for bringing the curse of sin and death upon ourselves.
