by Mj Fields
“Nothing. I’m gonna eat then crash.”
“Are you sure? I mean—”
“As much as you wish me gone, Ava, you’d have to give me a hell of a lot more than two pills.”
“I don’t wish you dead, just...” I pause.
“Gone. Yeah, I get that.” He takes the bowl of pasta out of the microwave, using a pot holder this time.
His words...My words tossed back at me in a joking matter or not, they sting.
“I don’t know how to do this; where to go from here,” I say in a tone that sounds just as defeated as I feel.
“Neither do I,” he says, sitting on a bar stool. “Gotta be done, though.” He closes his eyes then blinks a few times before placing his hands on the island to push himself up.
“Do you need something?”
“Bed,” he slurs out as he stands.
“But—”
“Ava, can you carry two hundred pounds of dead weight twenty feet?”
I shake my head.
“I need a bed.”
He moves slower than usual, and I feel awful and helpless and...What the hell did I do?
I grab the milk he had taken from the refrigerator and quickly pour him a glass. Then I grab the bowl of pasta and head into the room behind him.
He sits on the bed that looks too small for him, and before thinking, I open my mouth.
“Luke, can you make it to my room? I mean, I don’t sleep in there, anyway, and it’s bigger. More—”
“I’m fine, Ava,” he cuts me off as he positions the pillows then lies back, looking incredibly uncomfortable.
“I don’t sleep in there, anyway,” I repeat, trying again.
He pushes himself up. “If I don’t, are you going to keep arguing that I should?”
“No, but you look...uncomfortable.”
He sighs as he stands and blinks again. “Just need to close my eyes, Ava.” His words are slow, making me nervous.
I watch him walk with one hand on the wall, and by the time he gets to my room, his legs are shaking.
He looks at the bed, closes his eyes, then shakes his head. “Not sure I want to be in here.”
“It’s a bed. Lie down.”
As he pushes back the duvet cover and sits, I realize what I have insisted on. He’s going to sleep in mine and Thomas’s bed. It’s not just a bed, and he, Thomas, is probably upset with me now.
He’s dead, gone, but this is still his bed.
I feel Luke wipe away tears I didn’t realize were falling and pull away from his touch.
“Told you this was a bad idea,” he whispers. Then he tries to sit up and fails.
“He’s dead,” I voice, causing my chest to tighten. “He’s dead, and you’re—”
“I’m sorry, Ava. I wish I could take his place,” he slurs as his eyes close.
“I don’t wish you were dead,” I tell him, hoping he is still alert enough to hear me.
“Glad to hear it.”
“Luke?”
He opens his eyes to see me holding up the milk.
“It says to take on a full stomach.”
“Blue eyes, I can’t right now.”
Blue eyes? He’s never called me that.
I shake my head. No, no, no.
“You need to figure it out.” I put my hand under his head and lift him.
“Ava,” he grumbles.
“Just drink it.”
“Then you’ll leave me alone?” he asks in a bit of a slur, and his voice is deeper.
I nod. “Yeah, then I’ll leave you alone.”
He pushes himself up. “I can hold the cup.”
“You’ll spill it,” I argue, ignoring him.
After he drinks the milk, he looks at me. “You loved him.” The sincerity in his eyes is sweet, like he finally understands.
“And he loved me.”
He sighs as he lies back. “I mean it, Ava. For you, I would take his place.”
“I don’t want you to die, Luke. I don’t want anyone to die. I just want him back.”
“Understand,” he whispers.
“And your friend?” I ask, grabbing a tissue and wiping the corner of his mouth.
“I would have traded places with him so he could see his boys grow,” he answers softly.
His boys.
“The letters,” he mumbles. “Songs that reminded me of you and home.”
Songs? What is he talking about?
“Got me through some tough times, blue eyes. I’ll do the same for you.”
“Go to sleep.” I want him to stop telling me things he should have told me years ago. Had he, I would not be the reason Thomas Hardy is gone.
My love killed him. And in his death, I lost my right to be loved.
“Ava?”
I jump. I thought he passed out already.
“Yeah?”
“Make sure I’m still breathing when the kids—”
“What?” I gasp.
“I’m fucking tired, and I wanna make sure...”
I grab his arms and pull at him, trying to get him up. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No need,” he says, in a drug-induced fog. “Love that little boy, Ava. Love him so fucking much, and I’m afraid you are gonna make me stop. Can’t stop, and I can’t hurt you.”
“Luke, get up.” I pound my fist on his chest.
“Need to sleep.” Then he is out.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I run out and grab my phone, ready to call an ambulance, when I see the skull and crossbones magnet on the fridge.
Poison control.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It wasn’t me. - L. Alvarez
LUKE
My head is groggy, and my skin is heated. I attempt to open my eyes, but the glare from the sun beating through the window and down my body forces them closed.
“The sun hasn’t shined in a fucking week,” I voice out, trying to cover my eyes.
I hear movement and turn my head in its direction before opening my eyes, seeing Ava walking quickly out of the room. Then I look down and see my knee is wrapped in an ace bandage with pink teddy bear paws sticking up, as if trying to escape.
Beside the bed is a glass of water and ibuprofen next to a notepad with dates and times. My name is written in script in the header.
Ava. I would know her handwriting anywhere.
Handwriting. Fuck, she saw the fucking letters.
I remember talking to her last night. I think she called poison control. I asked her about the kids, and she told me about the babies’ birth and the medical problems they both faced. I remember talking about Thomas, and her getting pissed when...Oh, fuck, I told her about the book and page number twenty-five where he all but admitted he lied.
Love is in everything we do to protect love.
I know she got pissed at me. I know I held her...I held her.
Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Double fuck; did I kiss her? Did I try anything? Did we fuck?
I reach under the blanket, finding my boxers are still on, and my dick is as soft as a baby’s ass with no evidence of fucking.
I push myself up and look for my phone. Then I remember I left it in my pants pocket, which were left in the bathroom. Christ, there is nothing like waking up and not knowing shit. How the hell do people function when they take those fucking things everyday like clockwork?
As soon as I push myself up to standing, I see the bathroom door, the master bath. I walk in and look around. There is a stand up shower, and a corner bathtub that has two little seats in it. The kids.
I smile to myself.
After taking a piss, I wash my hands then dig out my toothbrush and toothpaste from my toiletry bag that I find on the white, granite double sink countertop, and brush my teeth. When I finish, I look up into the mirror and see Ava walking in with both kids on her hips.
“Let me know when you’re all set. They need a bath.”
“I’m good,” I reply, rinsing out the sink.
/>
I look up again, and she looks away, but the little ones are beaming at me.
How beautiful are they? Fucking perfect.
“Not sure all that was said last night, but—”
“Not in front the them,” she whispers.
“Well, I was kind of talking about them.” I smile. “Hoping you can remind me of last night’s conversation.”
My leg is killing me, but Chance squirming and trying to get to me is overshadowing the pain.
Fuck it. I walk over and hold my hands out.
“Come here, Chance Thomas.”
Ava looks at me, eyes wide.
“What? I like his name, Ava.”
“I wasn’t even thinking—”
“My father’s name was Thomas.”
“Tommy...Thomas. Right. Well then.” She looks at Chance as she hands him to me.
“It’s perfect,” I declare, holding him up. “Just like you. Your mom did a damn good job with you, Chance. Look at you...perfect.”
Ava glances at me. “You feel up to helping?”
My chest swells with joy. Whatever it was I missed last night seems to have made things better today. It’s a win.
“Of course I do, Ava, of course.”
“Well, get him undressed then.”
If I thought he was squirmy in clothes, naked and in the water, he is a little animal. He doesn’t stop moving, or chatting, or laughing. Hope, though, she simply smiles and giggles, not nearly as chatty.
“And she is the one who was the healthiest?” I ask, remembering a little of our conversation now that the fog has started to lift.
“It’s not a competition,” she comments sadly.
“Never said it was. And I promise you here and now, Ava, I never will.” I turn away from her and look at Chance. “Anyone messes with your sister, you’ll knock them down, won’t you, Chance?”
Ava half-laughs. “He will not be a fighter.”
“He won’t have to be; he was bred badass.”
“Bred? What am I, a freaking cow?” Now she laughs for real.
“No, Ava, you’re a mom.”
She smiles genuinely, like it makes her proud.
I never needed the metals, the promotions, or the pat on the back, but she does, and that’s fine with me.
I look back at Chance and whisper, “You may have to rough a few up. Just don’t let your mom know.”
“That’s not funny.” Ava forces a scowl.
“She’s gonna need it.” I smile at Hope who is gnawing away on a washcloth.
“Because she’s his?” she asks, blinking away pain and anger.
“No, Ava, because she’s so much like you.”
She grins for just a second, and then jokes, “I was never quiet.”
“You were always a dreamer and a bit naive.”
“Right, and look where that got me.”
“Got you to be a lawyer.” I nudge her. “I’m sure you’re trying to save the world.”
“Yeah, right,” she huffs.
“Gotta tell you. Never in...” I pause, wanting to say the seven years I had you, but I don’t, “all the years I’ve known you, have I seen you so grounded”—and beautiful— “as the day you handed over your crown to Piper. That was a shock.”
She shrugs as she holds her hand over Hope’s eyes, shielding them as she rinses her hair. “It was nothing.”
“You’re right. That was nothing compared to seeing you with them,” I tell her, copying what she’s doing to Chance.
Typical Ava, she jokes, “Yeah, watching me fall apart when they aren’t looking?”
“No, Ava, I’ve watched that for years. You hid your hurt from everyone but me.” When I stop, she looks down. “Seeing your strength and the way you protect them, that’s goddamn beautiful, Ava Links.”
She’s quiet, and I watch a million different emotions cross her face.
“So then, you understand that—”
“That you need me in your corner. You’ve got me.” Always have.
“And you think that’s enough, Luke? That you being in my corner is going to stop everyone from talking about Ava the whore? Ava, the girl who—”
“Not in front of the kids,” I interrupt her.
“Fine, not in front of the kids. But what happens when everyone knows, and you aren’t around to intimidate them into not talking about me?”
“Nothing we can do about how they came to be, Ava. Just feel blessed that they are. Both of them. Hope and Chance.”
“So, you know, no matter what, someday they will learn about how they came to be, and—”
“Know it? I lived it. My father’s parents are the reason I was so fucked up, Ava. They’re the reason I wanted to hate your old man when I knew damn well I didn’t. Everything that came out of my mouth to you that night, that fucking fucked up night, was because that’s what they wanted me to believe. And I did. For years, I did. Until Thanksgiving night when I heard our families talking about us. Then—”
“Luke,” she says softly, “not in front of the kids.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” I stand up and get the hell out of there as fast as I possibly can. I’m showing too much emotion, and she will see it as weakness. Hell, I see it as weakness.
“It’s okay, Luke,” she says with sadness in her voice. “It’s going to be okay.”
In the room, I distract myself by unwrapping the bandage. My knee is still swollen, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.
I see my clothes on a chaise lounge in the corner and grab a clean pair of boxers and a pair of jeans, throwing them on, before pulling a sweatshirt out of the pile and putting that on, too.
I hear water splash, and Ava laugh. Then the two kids laugh, too.
I walk back over and peek in. She is playing peek-a-boo.
“Ava?”
She looks back at me.
“Any idea where my phone is?”
She scrunches up her face. “In a bag of rice...on the counter.”
“So, it got cleaned?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“No big deal. I have to go finish up a job—”
“What job?” She laughs like I’m telling a joke.
“I wasn’t really happy with the building’s security, so I let them know.”
“And they just hired you?” She has an incredulous look on her face.
“Yeah. Weird, right?”
She arches an eyebrow. “Were you looking for a job?”
“Hel—Heck no.”
“Okay, well, when will you be back?”
“When I’m finished,” I answer, turning around.
“Oh, well, okay.”
I turn back around because the tone in her voice is more old Ava than new Ava, and as much as I really fucking liked old Ava, I want her like she is...for the kids.
“I set up the panel yesterday. Just have to change some locks, then get the second floor done. Maybe three hours.”
“And the third?”
“Third hour?”
“Third floor,” she clarifies. “This one.”
“Did that first...when you were asleep.”
“Okay.”
I start to turn around again then stop. “Plans for the day?”
“They don’t really change. Well, today they did, but it’s usually breakfast, movies, they nap while I do some stuff around here, then lunch, movies, then nap again. They get up, and yesterday we took a walk—they seemed to like that—and then snack. Well, it will be now that they’ve had those star things you gave them. And then play, dinner, bath, and bed.”
I nod. “Every day?”
“Every day that they don’t have an appointment,” she answers.
“How often does that happen?”
“Need is dependent, but they have one next week. I changed it so Casey will be back for it.”
“The driver?”
She nods. “And my friend.”
I nod again, thinking aloud, “You three don’t get ou
t much.”
“Germs.”
“Right, germs.” I have been around a new mother or two in my lifetime, so I understand the fear of germs.
“Want me to do dinner?”
I can’t help letting myself smile a bit. “You have time, yes. You don’t, I got it.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
She pauses like she changed her mind on saying anything. Then she says, “Have a good day.”
“You, too,” I tell her, and then look at Chance. “Have a good day. Take care of our girls, little man. Remember, we’re a team.”
I don’t even look at Ava again. I don’t want to see what she’s going to show me. Is she pissed that I said our girls? Did I overstep? Fuck, it’s too late to worry about it now.
I hit the elevator button, wishing it would hurry up.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?” I ask without turning around. I can’t. I’m not ready to face her rejection. I am strong, and I need to remain that way.
“I’m sorry I washed your phone.”
Damn, she’s being sweet.
“No big deal, Ava.”
“You want mine?”
I turn around and finally look at her. “You need a phone.”
“Well, so do you. I mean, what if you fall again and no one is there? What if you need”—she pauses and swallows hard—“something? Or if...” She stops and shakes her head.
“Ava, I’m going to be downstairs. Right downstairs.”
“Are you still parked on the street?”
I nod.
“You should use the lot in the back. We—I have three spots. Take one.”
I nod. “Thanks, Ava. I’ll do that.”
“Now?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
When I walk outside, I look up and see her standing at the window, two kids in her arms, looking down at me. I wave up, and she uses Chance’s then Hope’s hand to wave back down to me. It feels really fucking good.
This might go smoother than I think.
I pull around and park in the empty spot next to the Rover. When I get out, I look up again and see she is at the another window, giving me a thumbs up.
I think for a moment about what it would be like to, not just win her trust in me back, but have her heart.
Second chances are few and far between, but there is always a...chance.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
You just don’t understand him like me. - C. Puckett
