A Beautiful Fate

by Cat Mann

  Chapter 9

  Mia

  Friday night I did all of my laundry and a couple of other boring chores, and then I shut myself away in my room and prepared for another long, lonely weekend. Ari came and knocked at my door a little after nine. He took a seat in my chair and toyed with a Ghostbusters action figure I had sitting on the shelf. We hadn’t spoken together about my dad’s letter and I was hoping he did not bring it up. We really hadn’t spoken since the night before when he had said he couldn’t keep his hands off me. That was a conversation I was willing to entertain, but there was no way I could bear to bring up that subject.

  “So how come you didn't go home tonight?” I asked.

  “Oh, Lauren’s having some friends stay the night. I’m just keeping out of their way.”

  I looked at him as if he were nuts. “Your house is huge! There must be a corner in it somewhere for you to be out of the way.”

  “Yeah, true,” he said and ran a hand through his dark hair.

  I wish I could do that.

  “Or you could have just stayed with Rory,” I suggested.

  It was his turn to look at me as if I were nuts. “What and play video games until three in the morning? No thanks. Besides, it’s not so bad here. Do you ever go anywhere on the weekends?” he asked, keeping up with our small talk.

  “Nope,” I plopped down on the bed, “this is my only home. Margaux and I aren’t exactly les amis at the moment… or ever for that matter.”

  “Sorry,” he bit down on his bottom lip. “I always thought she was sort of nice, though we haven’t seen much of her since her husband died.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, “Perry.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, Perry. But she never once mentioned you, or your mom for that matter.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a yawn, “that sounds about right.”

  Ari stood up and hesitated for a moment.

  “Ok, well, you’re tired. I guess I’ll see you later. Good night, Ava.”

  With luck, “later” as in a few hours later.

  “Night,” I said and gave him a small smile before he closed the door behind him.

  Feeling exhausted from the night before, I fell asleep with ease, but before long the nightly chaos set in; I found myself in a dream that was so lifelike I could smell the air. I was in Chicago and the weather was crisp and windy. I heard Mia’s voice, so I walked until I could make out her silhouette; she was not alone. She was laughing and hanging on the arm of a tall blonde boy. I smiled, happy to see her so happy.

  Mia was leaning on the rail overlooking Lake Michigan near Navy Pier. It was late and very cold outside and the Pier was essentially deserted. I was surprised to see Mia so close to the water – neither one of us had ever liked water, yet here she was, putting on a brave front while she laughed at one of Jack’s jokes. I watched as they talked and saw her lean forward over the railing, looking into her reflection on the black, icy water. I watched as the rail, in slow motion, came loose, and I watched as my best friend Mia fell into the deep, cold water. She bobbed quickly to the surface and started to panic, fighting for her life. Jack stood motionless on the pier, oblivious to my screaming, which of course he couldn’t hear. I yelled at him to do something. My screams got louder as Mia struggled to keep her head above the water. I screamed until my throat was sore. I ran to the water’s edge, but I was unable to help her. I saw her go under one last time; she didn’t come back up. I woke up running from my dorm room.

  Just as I got to my door, it swung open and I crashed head first into Ari’s bare chest. I was screaming and couldn’t breathe. Ari grabbed my hands, pinning them to my sides.

  “Ava, talk to me! Stop, Ava. Look at me. Look at my face,” he demanded.

  “She’s dead,” I said as the hot tears ran. Ari let go of my hands and pulled me into his arms. “She’s dead, she’s dead,” I said these words over and over again. I held onto Ari as tightly as possible, unable to stop shaking.

  He held me to him as I cried and then, without a word, took me to his room and sat me down on the bed. He went to his closet, threw on an undershirt, and then sat down next to me.

  “Ava,” he pleaded, “tell me what happened.”

  I did as he asked. I told him every detail.

  “I know what I saw is real. I know it actually happened.”

  He held me as I sobbed, and when I grew weak and my cries turned in to tiny whimpers Ari wrapped me up in his big soft blankets and laid his head on the pillow next to mine, facing me and wiping the tears away as they sprang from my eyes. He ran his fingers through my hair and caressed my face. We stayed like that until daybreak, neither of us falling back asleep or really talking.

  When I finally sat up, I felt woozy and put my head against the wall. I spied Ari’s iPad on the desk and helped myself. I pulled up The Chicago Tribune and found the article I was looking for right away: “Tragic Accident Takes a Life at Navy Pier.” I didn’t need to read any more. I handed the iPad to Ari, who grabbed his glasses off the little bedside table and read the article.

  “Ava,” he finally spoke. “Ava, I am so sorry.”

  I nodded, unable to formulate even the simplest of sentences. I was lost in a catatonic state of sorrow. I sat for a few minutes, staring off into space, and then was struck by reality. Sitting in the dorm in sadness would help nothing. I had to go home to Chicago right away. I stood up and took a shaky step towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Ari asked.

  “I’m going home.”

  Ari looked at me with worried eyes. “Then I’m going with you. I’ll book the flight.” I didn’t care if he came or stayed, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. I just nodded and left.

  I got back to my room and climbed in the shower. I didn’t have the strength to stand so I sat curled up on the shower floor as the hot water washed over me. Eventually, the water turned from hot to warm to cold, I finally climbed out and I looked at my sad reflection in the mirror. I turned my mind off and autopilot on and went through the steps of readying myself. I packed whatever I could grab and hoped it would be enough. I had to stop many times to sit and cry, and soon after, I heard a light rap at my door. Ari walked in before I could respond. He picked up my bag off the floor and then grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. We rode the elevator in silence and he packed up his Rover while I sat in the front seat and stared.

  Three deaths. . . My mom, Perry and now Mia; the three people I loved the most in the world now gone. A new city, a new school, Ari and his family, the letter from my father. I put my head in my hands; my life was turning into a living nightmare, and I wasn’t at all sure I would survive that nightmare.

  “Our flight is at two,” Ari spoke, breaking the silence. “We should be in Chicago by eight central time.”

  “Thank you,” I said finally. “You really don’t have to do all of this.”

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to. . . and you’re welcome,” he added softly.

  I texted Margaux and asked her to book a room for me somewhere near downtown Chicago. At seventeen, I was not yet able to take care of my own legal arrangements. She texted back almost immediately, letting me know that her assistant had booked a room at the Sofitel and had ordered me a car service for the weekend. Then she gave her condolences.

  We got to LAX and waited for what seemed to be an eternity. I sat in various positions of discomfort in a hard bucket seat with Ari calmly at my side. Anxiety about returning to Chicago filled me. I put my thumb up to my mouth and began to chew at my nail. Ari took my hand in his and gently placed it back in my lap. Each time my knee started to bounce up and down he rested his hand on my leg to calm me.

  Mumbled words called out over the intercom.

  “That’s us,” Ari stood, grabbed both of our carry-ons in one hand and held on to my hand in the other as we walked together towards the gate.

  When finally we were on board, both of us fell asleep before the plane even took off. I reste
d my head on Ari's shoulder and he leaned his head against mine. I was surprised, with all of the turmoil going on around me, at how peacefully I slept.

  We arrived in Chicago four hours later. The car service driver found us easily and I recognized him as the same man who had driven Margaux and me from my mother’s funeral. The images in my mind from that day put a queasy feeling in my stomach.

  The driver took us to the hotel and we checked in at the front desk. We dropped off our bags with a bellhop, not wanting to take the time to go up to the room. We got back in the car and the driver took us quickly to Mia’s house.

  Her family’s apartment building was just down the road from where I had lived, and as we passed my old brownstone, I pointed it out to Ari, letting him know that it was once my home. He squeezed my hand. When we got to Mia’s building, the doorman recognized me and let us in, we took the elevator up to her floor and rounded the familiar carpeted hallway that lead to Mia and her mother’s apartment. I didn’t bother knocking. I had long been accustomed to just walking in, and she had done the same at my house. Her home was full of people, none talking; everyone just sat and stared at one another. Karen, Mia’s mom happened to be near the entryway when we walked in to her sad home.

  “Oh, Ava,” she said, and pulled me into her arms and cried. She held me tightly. After a time, I felt her grip begin to loosen and when finally she let me go, her arms dropped to her sides hopelessly. I turned to introduce her to Ari. Karen hugged him as well and then she ushered us into the kitchen.

  “I’m so glad you are here, Ava,” Karen said as she put a shoebox in front of me. “I don’t have the strength to do this on my own.”

  Mia’s father had left when she was very young, and from what I had gathered over the years, his departure from their lives had probably been for the best. Karen had been left to raise her young daughter by herself.

  “Can you please go through these pictures and pick out some nice ones to display at the service?”

  I nodded my head in response and then opened the lid and pulled out stacks of pictures. Most of the pictures of Mia from age thirteen and up had me in them. We had been inseparable; I started pulling out my favorites – the two of us at a Cubs game, at a sleepover, dressed up for homecoming, and in twin Greek goddess costumes, ready for Halloween. The costumes were my mom’s idea – eerily appropriate. Eventually the shots started to include Michael and the two of us became three. Mia was usually the one who took the pictures; there were a ton of Michael and me. I began to feel a little embarrassed as Ari and I went through them all.

  Most of the pictures were harmless – just smiles and being playful. Then there were the pictures of him kissing my cheek or me kissing his. Mia always loved to catch us in moments of any form of affection, since they were pretty rare. She snapped a few pictures of us kissing at a party and I remembered the night perfectly as the time that he had told me he loved me. I had not wanted to return the whispered vow. . .I had no idea what love was and I didn’t think he did either. I filled in the awkward moment with the kiss caught in the photo I was holding.

  I gathered up the pictures of Michael and me, walked over to the trashcan, and threw them away. Ari pretended not to notice, but I am sure he did.

  We left late and took the car back to the hotel. I opened the door to the room and found that there was only one bed, a huge king-sized one, but still, just one. I tried to ignore the obvious problem of sleeping arrangements, grabbed my toothbrush and pajamas out of my bag, and headed to the bathroom.

  When I emerged a few minutes later, I saw that a pillow and blanket had been moved over to the couch and I breathed a sigh of relief. I know that Ari and I had spent some late nights alone together, and they had been on a twin-sized bed in a co-ed dorm. But there was something about being in a hotel room that put a spin on the situation. Had I been thinking clearly when I texted Margaux, I might have asked her to get two rooms. Now I was glad I hadn't. She would have demanded to know who was traveling with me, and that wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with her.

  Ari and I talked for a few minutes, not about anything important and then I quickly fell asleep. Once again, my dreams were kind to me and I was thankful that nothing scary waited for me when I closed my eyes.

  I woke up early and saw that Ari was still asleep on the couch. He had his iPad resting on his chest and his glasses were still on. His bare feet were propped up on the armrest. I could have watched him sleep there for a long time, but I had a difficult day ahead of me. The best I could do to get ready for that day would be a run to clear my thoughts. I opened my luggage and was happy to see my running shoes and some Under Armour. I sent Ari a text, letting him know, in case he woke up while I was gone, that I would be back in a few. Then I slipped out the door.

  Stepping out into a brisk and windy Chicago morning, I was greeted by the rushing noise of the “L” train. I stretched and began my run through the familiar streets of Chicago, breathing in the cold, stale air and embracing the wind at my back while my music blared through my ear buds. Weaving down the sidewalk in the shadows of tall, tall buildings, I felt my angst ebb and my senses numb. The miles passed by; I could have run all day and if Ari hadn’t been waiting back at the hotel, I might have. I headed back to the Sofitel after grabbing a couple of large coffees and the paper.

  When I got back to the room, Ari was awake and dressed. I handed him the coffee and he gratefully took it.

  “How was your run?”

  “It was good,” I answered while I rummaged through my bag for some clothes. “It helped.” I stood up and excused myself; I was badly in need of a shower.

  The funeral services were not until Monday and I felt sure I couldn’t stand the emotional roller coaster that was Mia’s house for another day, so when I walked out of the bathroom, I turned to Ari while I ran a towel through my hair.

  “Have you ever been to Chicago before?”

  “Uh, no actually,” he said rubbing the stubble on his cheeks.

  I smiled at him. “Well, what do you want to do?”

  He looked at me for a minute then responded, “Ava, we don’t have to do anything. I mean, I know you’re heartbroken; I don’t mind staying right here …”

  “Yes, I am heart broken. I’m devastated. But sitting in a hotel room staring at the walls isn’t going to help anything.”

  The more I kept my mind off things the better. The weather was nice and crisp, not as cold as it had been earlier, and the wind had died down too, since my run. The leaves on the trees had left green behind and taken on the orange and red hues of fall; the city was beautiful. A clear blue sky gave homage to the tall buildings. Sunlight glinted off the glass windows and sparkled on The Chicago River. I introduced Ari to Sue, the T. Rex at the Field Museum, and we spent most of the morning just walking the museum's halls.

  Later, we dodged city buses and cabs on the streets as I showed him the sites.

  “You’re so at home here, Ava.”

  “This is my home, Ari.”

  He looked down and frowned; I had to pull him out of the way of a man gesturing and yelling angrily into a cell phone.

  For dinner, I surprised him by going to Pegasus, a great restaurant painted spiritedly in blue and white to showcase the establishment’s Greek pride both inside and out.

  “This place is awesome,” Ari said with a huge grin on his face.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “My mom and I used to come here like once a week; it was our all-time favorite.”

  Thinking about this, of course, made me think of her, which was probably a bad idea, given the state of my emotions. I managed to hold it together, though.

  Ari was great about making me feel at ease. He kept our conversation going, he made me laugh and his contagious smile made me smile in return.

  We finished dinner and went back to the hotel. Night had fallen and the room was quiet when Ari asked me the question I had been dreading.

  “Ava, what happened with your mother? If you do
n’t mind my asking.”

  I was comfortable enough with him now that I could talk openly, but my mother’s death was a story I had never shared with anyone. I stalled for a while then finally decided that if I didn’t tell him now, I might never tell him.

  I began with the nightmare I had the night before she died. I told Ari how I woke somehow knowing that my dream was fated to happen. I knew without a doubt that if she got into the car of her boyfriend, Dr. Spruce, she would never come out of it alive. I told him how I tried to convince her not to go over and over again and how, when the time came, she insisted on leaving. I told him about the sound of the crash, the wail of the sirens that followed and how I ran to the scene of the accident. I told him how I rode in the ambulance with her and how she was declared dead before we arrived. I told him how I relive the nightmare over and over again in my dreams and how each time I am unsuccessful at saving her.

  Ari never interrupted me. He didn’t even move. When I finally finished, he wiped the tears from my eyes, hugged me and told me how sorry he was.

  I shook my head. “You don’t have to be sorry; the accident was my fault. I am the one who failed to save her, not you.”

  He looked at me, seeming to measure what he could say. He rubbed his cheeks and let out a breath.

  “Ava, listen to me carefully. You couldn’t have saved her. There wasn’t anything you could have done. You were given the dream because of who you are, but her destiny was settled before you had your dream. She understood that. She accepted what she knew was unavoidable with grace, rather than trying to outrun it. No matter what you had done that night, the outcome would have been the same.”

  “How can you be sure,” I asked cautiously. “How do you know?”

  “Because Ava, you have the final say, you are the one who decides. If you wanted to change the outcome, you would have – unless someone else did it before you.”

  “I thought this thing of mine pertained only to people like us … my mom wasn’t Greek.”

  “Oh … are you sure?”

  “Well no, not really. She was adopted by Perry and Margaux; I don’t have any clue who her biological parents were and I don’t think she knew either.”

  Ari just looked at me and thought about it for a minute.

  I interrupted his thought process with another question. “What about Mia? I mean I saw everything that happened while it was happening. I tried to save her but I couldn’t. I know she wasn’t like us, so why would I dream that?”

  “I think maybe you dreamed her death because of how close you two were. You shared a bond, so you were tuned in to her fate and you just didn’t know it. As for your mother, Ava, I think she was a Greek and a very important one at that.”

  In a strange way, his theory made sense to me but at the same time increased the guilt I was feeling.

  Ari put his hand on my cheek and looked me in the eyes, “I do not believe you are responsible for anything that has happened so far, Ava. Knowledge comes before responsibility.”

  I nodded and chewed on my lip. “Why do I matter so much to your family?”

  “Because, you are going to save us all.”