Ava Comes Home

by Lesley Crewe

  “I didn’t. I swear.”

  She jumped up and turned around. “God. You scared me.”

  “Sorry.”

  She came over and gave him a big hug. “I thought of you all day. And all night, for that matter.”

  “For pity’s sake, don’t lose sleep on my account. You can’t afford it. You look tired out.”

  “I am a little tired.”

  He sat at the table. “I’m sorry, Coll. I leave the kids with you too much.”

  She waved her hand. “I love the kids. It’s my pleasure to have them. I told you before; you can pay me and keep them out of that daycare centre.”

  “I can’t do that. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She sat at the table too. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to see our kids grow up and enjoy each other. We’re…”

  “…such a little family.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” she sulked.

  He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m not. Really.”

  “Well, we are a little family, Seamus. If you and I can make sure these kids love each other as brothers and sisters, think what a lovely time they’ll have when they start their own families. That’s what it’s all about.”

  “They do love each other, and that’s thanks to you.”

  “Well, I’m lucky I don’t have to go to work. I really mean it when I say I’d be happy to take them. If I’m watching them every minute God sends anyway, I might as well get paid for it.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Well, I would rather them here than with a bunch of kids in daycare. Someone’s always sick. They come down with too many colds.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “Thank you, Colleen. I…”

  “I know.”

  Just then Jack and Sarah ran in and cries of “Daddy” filled the air. He spent an hour before dinner playing with the four kids on the family room rug. They told him about their day—well, three of them did. Sarah nodded happily and agreed with everything that was said.

  His spirits lifted and even though he knew it was only temporary, he was grateful for the reprieve. Dave came home and they sat down to meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Seamus realized he was starving and had two helpings. Colleen moaned about a goblin eating all the Dream Whip, so they had to eat their butterscotch pudding without benefit of a topping. No one seemed to care.

  The kids went off after supper to jump on the beds and the three adults sat around the dining room table with their tea. Seamus knew he should go and let his sister and her hubby have a little time to themselves, but he was lonely, he wanted to stay near someone, if only for a little while.

  They saw it at the same time through the dining room window— an unfamiliar pickup truck pulled into the yard. The passenger door opened and their father lurched out and almost fell in the driveway. The truck backed up and took off.

  Colleen’s face turned white. “Oh no.”

  “I told you Colleen,” Seamus frowned. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “Look, guys,” Dave sighed, “call if you need anything, but I hate this bullshit. I’ll be in the garage.” He got up from the table and went out the back door.

  “What do we do?”

  “What we always do,” Seamus said. “Nod and agree with everything he says until he passes out on the couch.”

  Colleen shoved her chair back as she got up. “I hate this. It’s always the same disappointment.”

  “You go watch TV with the kids in the bedroom. I don’t want them to see him like this.”

  “Do you mind? I don’t think I can talk to him right now,” Colleen said.

  “You go. I know how to deal with drunks.”

  Seamus walked out into the kitchen and sat at the table. It took his father a while to stagger from the driveway to the porch, from the porch to the door, and then the door into the kitchen. He swayed like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz—no bones whatsoever.

  He gave an exaggerated salute. “Hello, me son.”

  “Dad.”

  “Fine night out there, tonight,” he grinned.

  “Yep.”

  “Aren’t you goin’ to invite me in?”

  “Not my house.”

  “True, true, but our Colleen will let me in. She’s a good girl.” He reached for the back of the kitchen chair but overestimated its distance. His hand swung down and he nearly fell forward. “Oops.” He grabbed the kitchen counter instead.

  “Who drove you here?”

  “A buddy. Cecil. You know him. Used to work at the coke ovens.” He made another attempt to grab the back of the chair. This time he connected. “I gotta sit.” He scraped the chair over the kitchen floor and sat on it, leaning forward to wipe his hand down his unshaven face. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a drink? I’m parched.”

  “You don’t need another drink.”

  Kenny pointed at his son. “That’s where you’re wrong, b’y. You always need another drink.” He laughed like a fool at his own joke and then glanced up at Seamus with that look, the one Seamus hated. The one where he starts talking but his eyes don’t quite make it to your face until the last syllable.

  “Don’t be such a hard ass boy. I need a drink and then I’m goin’.” “Where are you going?”

  His head bobbed up and down. “Well now, let’s see. Might go to the Legion for another beer or might go to the tavern. So much booze, so little time.”

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “Don’t wanna go home. Nothing there.”

  “Sure there is. I’ll take you home and you can go to bed.”

  He whined like a baby. “I don’t wanna go home. I wanna see my Colleen. Colleen! Where are ya, girl?”

  “She’s watching the kids, Dad. I don’t want them to see you like this.”

  Kenny’s head flew back. “Why not? I’m their Granddad, aren’t I? Not that I see the little buggers much.” He pointed his finger at his son. “And that’s your doin’.”

  Seamus got out of the chair. “That’s right. Let’s go and we can talk on the way.” He reached out to take his father’s arm.

  Kenny pushed it away. “Get off. What ya think you are? A cop?” He roared. “A cop. My son, the cop. Ain’t that a joke?”

  “Let’s go, Da.”

  He pushed Seamus’s arm away again. “I’ll go when I get my drink, and not before.”

  “If I give you a drink, you’ll come with me?”

  “Yes, boy. Yes, indeed.”

  Seamus went to the cupboard and took out a glass. He knew where Dave kept his liquor. He poured a little amber rum in a glass and added tap water. He passed it to his Dad. “Here.”

  “Wait. I gotta piss.”

  “Christ.” Seamus took his old man by the arm and dragged him to the bathroom. He pushed him in and shut the door. His father serenaded himself as he peed. Seamus opened the door when he heard him fiddle with the knob, and pulled him back into the living room. He put him in the lazy boy chair, hoping that at some point during this last drink, he’d pass out. Then he’d carry him out to the car and take him away.

  Seamus sat on the chair across from him. He watched his father take a gulp of rum.

  “Ahh, good, b’y, good.” He tried to focus on his son. “Why don’t you have a drink? Have one with your old man.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Story of my life.” He took another drink. “Where’d you come from? Don’t know a man around here whose son doesn’t drink with his father. I drank with my old man.”

  “Was he a drunk?”

  His father pointed at him with his glass. “Don’t get lippy.”

  Seamus kept quiet. Kenny nodded his head as if he’d told him off. Very proud he was. He took another drink. Seamus watched the amber rum in his glass. He could see right through it thanks to the fire in the fireplace behind his dad. It glowed, and was something to look at besi
des his old man. He thought of Libby the night they had a bonfire on the beach with their friends. She stood on the opposite side of it at one point and he watched her through the flames. The firelight lit up her face. She was young and happy and she blew him a kiss when she noticed him staring at her.

  His father said something.

  “What?”

  “Ya gotta face like a dog’s dinner. What the hell are you mopin’ about now?”

  Seamus didn’t answer him. He wanted to go home.

  “You were always mopin’ as a kid. Run to your mother for any little thing. Christ, it was sickening.”

  “Don’t start talking about Mom.”

  “I’ll talk about her if I want. She was my wife. You can’t stop me from talkin’ about her.”

  “All right, I’m sorry. Drink up and we’ll go.”

  “You’re always tryin’ to shut me up.”

  “It doesn’t often work.”

  His father screwed up his face. “You always did think you were better than me. Why is that?”

  This was a really bad time to have to sit and listen to bullshit. Seamus’s headache returned and he wanted his kids. He rubbed his forehead.

  His father suddenly slapped the arm of the chair. “Jesus Christ. I know what it is. Don’t tell me you’re still boohooin’ about that little bitch.”

  Seamus looked at his father from under his eyelashes.

  “For fuck’s sake, get over it. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Don’t talk about Libby. Not tonight.”

  “Here we go again. Telling me what I can and cannot talk about. I can talk about that little bitch as long as I want.”

  “Dad.”

  His father took another swig. “Seamus, you have got to be the dumbest guy I ever come across. You couldn’t hang onto her ten years ago and apparently she’s fucked off on you again.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He circled his glass in the air. “Somebody told me. Who gives a shit?”

  “I’m not going to discuss her with you, so drink up and let’s go.”

  “No wonder you don’t wanna talk about her. Christ, rejected twice. You’re a loser, my son, a big fat loser.”

  Seamus felt his hands tighten into fists. Stay cool, he told himself. His father laughed at him. Seamus saw his smirk through the glass. “I think it’s pretty easy to figure out why she don’t want ya. You’re a sooky boy. A girl like her don’t wanna sooky boy. She needed a real man to teach her a thing or two. The little slut.”

  The words shot through Seamus’s skull like bullets. Bam! Bam! Bam! Before the thought became a thought, Seamus let out a guttural yell and sprang from his seat. He was on top of his father in an instant, grabbing him by the throat as they fell backwards out of the chair. The glass of rum flew through the air and smashed against the fireplace as they rolled around on the floor.

  His father lay under him.

  “You fucking bastard. It was you. It was you!”

  His hands squeezed his father’s throat. Kenny tore at his neck. “No. No!”

  “You raped her! You raped her, you fucking bastard.”

  “No.”

  Seamus picked his head up by the shirt and brought him to his face. “You tell me, you son of a bitch or I’ll kill you.”

  His father struggled. “No. She’s lying.”

  “Tell me.” He squeezed his throat as hard as he could. His father went purple before Seamus let up.

  He gasped, “Okay, okay, but she was gaggin’ for it, I swear.”

  Seamus slammed his father’s head off the hardwood floor. Again and again he pounded it into the floor.

  When Colleen heard the crash, she and the kids became frightened. She didn’t want to open the door. She ran to the window, threw it up and screamed for Dave. He ran out of the garage. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s killing him! He’s killing him!”

  “Keep the kids in the bedroom,” Dave yelled and ran into the house. Seamus had his father by the throat. There was blood on the floor.

  Dave grabbed his arms from behind. “Seamus. Get off him.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill him!”

  “He’s not worth it, Seamus. He’s not worth it.”

  “I don’t care.” He struggled against Dave’s arms.

  Dave yanked him away. “Think of your kids, Seamus. They can’t lose their dad!”

  It was as if the will suddenly seeped out of him. He got up, stumbling over his father’s body, and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve. He pointed a finger at his old man, who was curled up into a fetal position, moaning.

  “If you ever come near me or my kids again, I’ll kill you. I’ll shoot you right between the eyes, you filthy bastard.”

  Dave held his arm. “Go. I’ll take care of this.”

  As Seamus stepped over him, his father cringed. Seamus kept going right out the door.

  “He’s crazy,” Kenny whimpered. “He nearly killed me.”

  “What have you done, you pathetic old man?”

  “He’s crazy.”

  Colleen peeked out of the bedroom. “Dave. Dave! You stay with the kids. They’re scared. I’ll deal with him.”

  Dave walked towards her. “What the hell happened?”

  “I’m not sure. Just take the kids and don’t let them see anything.” They traded places. She ran to her father. “Why, Dad? Why did this happen? What did you say to him?”

  “Help me, Colleen,” he pleaded. “My head—”

  She ran to get a cloth and applied it to the back of his head. “How can you do this to us again? Why? It’s not fair. You’re killing us.”

  Her father started to cry and rock back and forth. “He tried to kill me.”

  “Why? Why?”

  “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t,” he whimpered.

  “What Dad? What?”

  “Libby.”

  Colleen put her head down closer to his. “Libby? What about her?”

  “I didn’t mean it,” he blubbered. “He always had everything. Your mother loved him. She loved him more than me. He was the captain of his hockey team. Anything he ever did, he always got what he wanted. And then he got her.”

  “Libby?”

  Her father’s face contorted on the floor. “YES! He had her. He always had everything. I just wanted some of it.”

  Colleen’s addled brain suddenly put two and two together. Her skin crawled. She backed up on her knees. “No.”

  “You gotta forgive me, Colleen.”

  “No. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t rape her.”

  “I only wanted a taste. I only wanted what he had. Just a little.” He broke down again and cried out. “Forgive me, Colleen. Forgive me.”

  She tried to get up but found she couldn’t stand. She clutched her stomach and then put her hand on the couch to pull herself up. “You’re a monster.” She didn’t know where to turn. She looked at him writhing on the floor. “You only wanted what he had? He never had her! He never did. That was something they were saving, something precious and innocent and you took it from them. You took their gift to each other away. You took it away forever! Do you know how she suffered? Do you have any idea? And all those times Seamus was crying, Where is she? Where is she? You knew. You had to know she left because of you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you know you got her pregnant? Did you know that? Did you know she had to have an abortion to get rid of your baby?”

  “No, no!”

  “You disgust me. I never want to see your face again. And I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m glad Mom’s dead. This would have killed her, killed her! She loved Libby. She used to tell me that—how happy she was that her son found someone so wonderful.”

  He curled up into a smaller ball. “Forgive me.”

  She stood over him. “Ask God to forgive you, Dad, because Seamus and I never will.”

  Colleen ran out of the room. Where was her brother? Where was po
or Seamus? She raced through the kitchen and out the back door. Please God, he didn’t drive away.

  He was on his hands and knees in the driveway, retching.

  She ran down the stairs and knelt beside him. “Oh my God, Seamus. My God.”

  He couldn’t do anything but let the saliva hang out of his mouth. His nose ran and his eyes were closed shut with his tears.

  “Help me.”

  She held his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened. How could this have happened?”

  “He hurt her. He hurt her so bad and she never told me. All these years, she kept it inside.”

  “I know, honey, shhh.”

  “She was alone. Oh my god, I’m going to die, Colleen. I wanna die.”

  “No, sweetheart.”

  “I can’t bear it.” He suddenly sat up on his knees and held his fists to sky. He screamed, “LIBBY!”

  Her name echoed over the fir trees and was swept away with the wind, over the churning ocean.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Hayden left in the morning, saying he’d meet her at the studio.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes? Don’t you mean okay, or see ya later or God, you’re such a tiger in bed, Hayden?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed. “Ciao, babe.” He walked out the door eating a piece of toast, but before he shut the door he turned back. “Now remember, it’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be fine.” He waved to her over his shoulder.

  She got up from the table with a cup of coffee and looked out the window at the traffic. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’m good at rape.” She sighed, took the last swig of coffee and headed for the bathroom. She was showered and dressed by the time Lola, Maurice, and Harold arrived for their grand reunion.

  The girls flew into each other’s arms. “God, I’ve missed you,” Lola said.

  “Oh, me too. You have no idea.”

  She let Lola go to embrace the boys. When Maurice turned to Ava, he kissed her cheeks four times. “Two are for you and two are for Aunt Vi.”

  “Oh, just a minute.” She ran to the carry-all and took out the baking. “They’ve been out of the freezer for a couple of days, but they should still be fresh.”