Ava Comes Home

by Lesley Crewe

  “That marvelous woman,” Harold trilled, clapping his hands.

  They agreed they needed an Aunt Vi fix immediately, so Ava poured more coffee and they sat around the table. She opened the can of blueberry muffins and the fabulous smell hit her like a fist, right between the eyes. She dropped the can, unable to breathe. They jumped up around her.

  “What’s wrong?” Lola shouted.

  “Call 911,” Harold screamed.

  Maurice gently turned her towards him. “Slow breaths Ava. Look at me. Slow.”

  She followed his hand up and down. Her breathing eventually returned to normal. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, honey.” Maurice sat her down again and rubbed her shoulders. Lola gave him a look and he held his finger to his lips behind Ava’s head and mouthed “Tell you later.” He sat next to her. “You okay now, sweetheart?”

  Ava brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Yes, sorry. It just caught me off guard.”

  “It’s only natural,” Maurice reassured her.

  “Excuse me a moment. I think I’ll go splash some water on my face.” She left the room in a hurry. Lola and Harold quickly sat down and leaned towards him.

  “What on earth was that?” Lola asked.

  “A panic attack. She gets them sometimes. You have to tell her to remember to breathe, that’s all.”

  “I’ve seen her flustered before, but not stop breathing. That’s scary.”

  “It doesn’t happen often. I wonder what’s been going on.”

  “She spent the day with stuffed shirts yesterday,” Harold sniffed. “Anyone would stop breathing with them in the room.”

  Lola shook her head. “No. It was as soon as she smelled the baking. It was the reminder of Aunt Vi’s kitchen. God love her. She must miss them so. I’m worried about her. She looks pale.”

  Harold nodded. “She does look rather fragile.”

  Maurice crossed his arms across his chest. “We’ll have to be ever vigilant today, people. Protect her at all costs. Don’t let idiots have access to her.”

  “I guess she better not show up on the set at all,” Lola smirked.

  By then Ava came back and she looked a little better. “Sorry, guys. Just a couple of late nights.”

  Maurice wagged his finger at her. “Well, it’s in bed early for you tonight.”

  “I’m in bed all day.”

  “What’s the scene?” Lola asked.

  “Originally it was a lover’s quarrel, but Nigel, the boy genius director, wants to replace it with a rape scene.”

  They looked at her. Maurice was the first to speak. “But you hate that stuff.”

  “I know.”

  “And they insisted?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Lola blustered. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the story!”

  Ava corrected her. “That’s where you’re wrong. It has everything to do with the young audience they want to attract.”

  “Rape attracts people? How revolting,” Harold grumbled.

  “It’s exciting, apparently. For the viewers. Some viewers.” She tore little bits off her napkin.

  “This is going to be a fun day,” Lola scowled.

  “I suppose it’s a bit of a consolation that Hayden is your co-star,” Maurice said. “It could’ve been that moron who wanted big boobs.” He looked at his watch. “We better get a move on. Our goodies will have to wait. It can be our reward at the end of this ordeal.”

  The four friends left the hotel room and headed for the location— an old brownstone on the Upper East Side. They were whisked in past the usual assortment of crew, some of whom they knew from previous productions. It was organized chaos. Ava sat in Maurice’s chair and went over the script while listening to Lola prattle on about what she did and who she saw when she was at home. While Maurice tended to her poor damaged locks, Lola wanted to know what Ava had done to occupy herself while she was gone.

  She shrugged. “This and that.”

  “You didn’t see…?”

  “Who?”

  Lola tossed her head back and forth. “You know.”

  “Don’t have a clue who you’re talking about. Excuse me. I have to read this.”

  Maurice and Lola exchanged glances.

  Hayden arrived and naturally created a huge fuss. Cock of the walk. The room buzzed with his energy alone. He came over and greeted Ava as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

  “Come on babe. Gotta go over a few things with Nigel. Is that what you’re wearing?”

  She looked at her jeans and t-shirt. “Yes. This isn’t a dress rehearsal.”

  “I know, but couldn’t you wear something more tempting?”

  Ava closed her eyes. “I want to go over the scene to find my marks. I don’t have to be half naked for that.”

  “Oh, someone’s cranky. Must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, but then last night, every side was the right side, wasn’t it, babe?” He winked and moseyed away.

  “What do you see in him?” Lola asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  Ava went over to Nigel and Hayden. They discussed positions and postures and camera angles. Ava barely participated. She merely watched them from somewhere above her head. Their mouths moved and every so often they looked at her and waited—those were the moments she’d nod her head—and then they’d look at each other and their mouths would start up again.

  She saw the camera and the lights and all the equipment that they’d use today or tomorrow or whenever the scene was to be filmed. The equipment that would capture every glorious second of it. She looked at the bed. She’d be spending a week in it. She wanted to tell them it looked all wrong. That beds where some women are raped don’t look that nice. They don’t have white duvets and fluffy pillows. They have musty mattresses with dead flies on it and mouse shit. They creak when they move. They’re damp and smelly and have outlines of old urine and blood stains.

  Someone came at her with a see-through blouse and held it in front of her. They nodded and offered it to her. Then Hayden held his hands together in a prayer, pretending to beg. Since she and her body weren’t in the room anymore, Ava decided it didn’t matter. She pulled her t-shirt over her head, took off her bra and put the shirt on. Hayden and Nigel looked at her breasts. They crossed their arms and held their chins in their hands. They pointed at them every so often and then asked someone else to come in. The lighting director, she guessed, since they looked from her to the lights above their heads and back again.

  Then they ignored her for a bit. She glanced over and saw Lola and Maurice with funny looks on their faces. Lola motioned her to come over but she didn’t want to. It was hard to be around Lola today, pretending everything was okay. Lola would drag it out of her if she wasn’t careful, so she shook her head and wandered over to the bedroom window. It looked out on a small garden, an oasis of green amid all the brick. There was a tree. The leaves were not the usual emerald green of summer, but slightly faded, as if knowing what was ahead of them. The rain helped bring them back to life temporarily, but both she and the leaves knew their lives were short.

  Just then a cat came out of nowhere and ran to the tree. He sat under the leaves for protection against the rain. She put her hand on the window pane. “Hi, Dexter.”

  The cat turned around. It wasn’t Dexter, as she knew it couldn’t be, but she felt sad all the same.

  Colleen was finally able to get Seamus back into the house. He followed her like a child. She quickly took him downstairs and made him lie down on the sofa. She wrapped a blanket around him and told him she’d be back. She knew he wouldn’t move, traumatized as he was. She ran upstairs and ignored her father still lying in the living room. He wasn’t moving. She hoped he was dead. She went into the bedroom where Dave had all four kids attached to him on the bed. Their tear-stained faces nearly broke her heart.

  “Mommy will be right there, but I need to talk to Daddy for a second. I’m right here by the door.”


  They nodded.

  Dave gently removed himself from little arms and legs and walked out of the room. Colleen closed the door slightly so the kids wouldn’t hear them.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Oh Dave, it’s so awful.”

  “My God, what?”

  “You know what I told you about Libby?”

  He nodded.

  “It was Dad, not the drama teacher.”

  His face went white. “Your dad? I don’t understand. You said it was the drama…”

  “The drama teacher did harass her at school, but he wasn’t the one who raped her. It was Dad.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Colleen tried not to cry. She needed to be strong for the kids. “Seamus is in shock. I put him downstairs for now. You’ve got to get Dad out of here. If I look at him again, I’m going to be sick.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Please, Dave. You have to hurry in case Seamus comes upstairs.”

  “But what do I do with him? He’s hurt.”

  “I don’t give a shit. Take him back home and get your sister to check him out. She’s a nurse. She’ll tell you what you need to do. But please don’t tell her why it happened. Seamus would be—”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. Call her for me and tell her to meet me at your dad’s house.”

  Colleen went into the bedroom with the kids while Dave got his jacket and car keys. His father-in-law lay on the floor and Dave could hardly look at him, let alone touch him, but he knew if Seamus saw him again, he’d kill him, and this time Dave wouldn’t stop him.

  Kenny was a dead weight. Dave pulled him up and put Kenny’s arm around his shoulders, dragging him through the kitchen. Kenny moaned and talked gibberish.

  “Shut your mouth.”

  He had a hell of a time getting him out the door and down the steps. They made it to the car and Dave opened the door and shoved him into the backseat. He started the car and drove backwards out of the driveway. As he turned to look where he was going, he glanced at Kenny. Kenny tried to focus his eyes. “Tell Colleen…”

  “Shut up! I’m not telling her anything. She never wants to see you again. You’ve done it this time, old man. This is where it ends. You’ve hurt this family for the last time.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Shut your mouth or I swear to God I’ll kill you myself.”

  He drove to Kenny’s house in New Waterford. Dave’s sister Martha was in the driveway waiting for him. They didn’t say a word to each other. Between the two of them, they were able to get him inside and on a bed. Only then did she speak.

  “What happened?”

  “The old man was drunk and went nuts. Seamus and I had to stop him. Just check him over and tell me if he should go to the hospital.”

  If she thought Kenny’s wounds were from anything other than a fight, she kept it to herself. She sat by the side of the bed and looked in his eyes. Then she took his pulse and examined the back of his head. “He’s got a bad bump so he may have a concussion, but there’s not much you can do about it. It doesn’t help that’s he’s drunk. We should take him to the hospital to be sure.”

  “No hospital,” Kenny shouted. “No hospital. Leave me alone!”

  Martha sighed and got up. She went to the doorway where Dave stood. “I’ll stay and keep an eye on him. If I think there’s any change, we’ll take him in.”

  “Okay. The best thing I can do right now is keep this drunk out of my house and away from my wife and kids.”

  He phoned Colleen and she said that she could handle things at home. The four kids had fallen asleep on the bed while Dave dragged their grandfather out of their lives. Colleen was grateful for a little peace. She went into the living room and quickly cleaned up the glass and the blood. She righted the chair and put things back to normal.

  She checked the kids one more time before running downstairs to her baby brother. He lay where she left him, shivering. She went over and rubbed his limbs.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m going to get you something hot to drink.”

  “No, stay here.”

  She wiped his brow and took his hands, keeping them between her own to warm them up. He looked at her with his sad brown eyes. Grief etched his face. He looked ten years older at that moment. She couldn’t break down now—he needed her. He needed her to tell him what to do. But what could she say? How does one cope with something so despicable? She stayed quiet and let her presence comfort him, to let him know he wasn’t alone. Poor Seamus. He spent much of his life alone. He never did anything to deserve this. He loved a girl with his whole heart, that’s all. That was his only crime.

  As Colleen sat there, that phrase ran through her mind. He loved a girl. He loved a girl. He loved a girl. And she loved him. She loved him. And the only reason they were apart was a giant secret too huge to cross. But they did it; they did most of it on their own. They smashed that wall, but not quite enough. There was one final obstacle and tonight it was removed.

  Seamus knew the truth.

  As horrible as it was, when Colleen looked at him, she realized he’d been set free. She remembered when he was eighteen and up in his room pacing like a wild animal in a cage, wanting to do something but having no resources to do it. She remembered the agony in his voice yesterday telling her that he should’ve gone to find her. Why didn’t he go and bring her back?

  And then she knew how she could help him.

  She squeezed his hands. “Seamus.”

  He looked at her.

  “Bring her home.”

  His eyes widened.

  “Bring her home, Seamus. Go and find her. She only ran to protect a secret. But that secret is out. It can’t hurt either of you anymore. Go to New York and bring home the girl you love.”

  The change in his face was instantaneous. Instead of fear, there was sudden determination and hope. When she stood, he pulled the blanket off and stood up too. He looked at her.

  “Jack and Sarah will be okay. They’re with me. You go.”

  He reached out and kissed her. “I love you, Sis.” He ran up the stairs and out the door.

  “And I love you, little brother.”

  Only then did she allow herself to cry.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Seamus got in the car and drove home much too fast. He slammed on the brakes, turned off the ignition and ran up the porch steps into the house. In the living room he stopped and looked around. What was he supposed to do now?

  He realized he was on the verge of hyperventilating, so he went into the kitchen and forced himself to sit, taking deep slow breaths.

  “Get a grip. Make a plan.”

  He sat for a while, glanced at the clock, and realized it was too late for any flights to go out tonight, but, he needed to be on one tomorrow morning. He went in search of a phone book, looked up the number for Air Canada, and placed the call. Naturally, he had to wait for the automated voice mail system to wind down with its choices. But he didn’t mind; it let him think about what to do next.

  He’d call his closest neighbour and arrange to have her come in and feed Dexter. She already had his key. Then he’d pack a few things in a bag—he didn’t need a hotel reservation because he didn’t intend on staying in New York that long. An agent finally came on and gave him the reservation after he said he’d pay full fare. He read out his Visa Card number over the phone. His ticket would be waiting for him at the airport in the morning. The plane didn’t land in New York until the afternoon, but there was no way to get there sooner. He’d have to cool his heels in Halifax first.

  Seamus knew he wouldn’t call her. He’d call Lola and he prayed to God that Aunt Vi had her number. Libby told him that Lola would be with her in New York and it was the only thing she seemed happy about.

  He knew it was too late to call the MacIntoshes, but that couldn’t be helped. Aunt Vi answered the phone after four rings. She sounded sleepy.

  “Hello?”
/>   “Vi…”

  “Who’s this? What time is it?”

  “It’s Seamus. I apologize for calling so late.”

  He heard a rustling. “Just a minute.” She came back on line a few moments later. “Sorry. I had to go to another room. I didn’t want to wake Angus. He can usually sleep through a cannon firing, but…”

  “Aunt Vi, listen to me.”

  “Isn’t that nice, calling me Aunt Vi. Thank you, dear.”

  “Please. I need your help.”

  “What is it, dear?”

  “I need to get in touch with—”

  “Libby! Of course you do. Oh, I’d be so happy if you two kids could just—”

  “Aunt Vi, please. I’m trying to get in touch with Lola.”

  “Lola? What do you want Lola for? Not that she’s not a lovely girl, but I’d always hoped you and Libby would get back together.”

  “I need Lola’s cell phone number. Do you have it?”

  “Um, I think I do. I know I had her mother’s phone number here somewhere.”

  “Well, that would be fine too. I can always call them.”

  “I’ll go check.”

  “Thank you.”

  He waited. He had to take a breath and stay focused. Remember, he told himself, there was nothing he could do tonight. It was agony waiting anyway. Finally she got back to the phone.

  “Here we are, dear. I have both of them, as a matter of fact. You can tell that girl is organized. She has everyone’s number down here, even Maurice and Harold.”

  “Can I have it please?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want Libby’s too?”

  He almost shouted, but managed to control himself. “Fine. That would be great. Give me that one too.” He wrote down the numbers and thanked her. He was about to hang up when Aunt Vi said, “Seamus, I’m worried about Libby.”

  “I know. So am I.”

  “You too? Oh dear. I don’t know what to do. It’s hard because she doesn’t let us help her.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Vi, I’m going to help her. I’m going to New York and I’m bringing her home.”

  “Are you, dear?” She sniffled into the phone. “Oh, I’m glad. I can’t tell you how glad I am. I always thought you two were meant for each other.”