by Eve Gaddy
“Will she want to make the house all girly?”
Looking around, he tried to see the place from a woman’s perspective. “Maybe a little. I’m sure there will be things she’ll want to change. But she won’t do anything to your room.”
“Good, ’cause I don’t think I’d like that. Andy’s mom puts girly stuff, you know like lacy crap, everywhere. Every stinking chair in their den has some lacy thing on it. Andy doesn’t like it but she cried when he told her that so now he pretends he likes it.”
“Maybe we can negotiate on the lacy crap. Besides, I don’t think she’s big on lace. I haven’t seen any at her house.” He stopped, aware they were drifting from the point. “But we’re kind of getting ahead of ourselves. I haven’t asked her and she hasn’t said yes.”
“But you think she will.”
“I hope so. Like you said, though, we haven’t been dating very long.” He’d never even told Ava he loved her, and she hadn’t said it either. But he didn’t think he’d misread her feelings for him.
Cole jerked him out of his reverie with his next question. “Dad, are you gonna have more kids?”
He laughed. “Now that’s really getting ahead of ourselves. Why don’t we worry about that some other time. At least until we find out if she’s going to marry me.” For one thing, he didn’t know if Ava was childless by choice or if she simply hadn’t had a chance to have children. They’d never discussed it. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things they hadn’t discussed. “Would you mind?”
“I don’t know. It’d be weird, having a brother or sister so much younger than me.”
“Like I said, let’s not worry about it yet. And Cole, don’t say anything to Ava. I’m not sure when I’m going to talk to her.”
“Okay, but what are you waiting for?”
“The right moment.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d know it when it happened, wouldn’t he?
Cole studied him. “If you say so, but I think you’re nervous.”
“You could be right.” After all, it was only the second time he’d ever wanted to marry anyone. A man had a right to be nervous about asking the woman he loved to marry him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AFTER TALKING TO COLE, Jack had a hard time not asking Ava to marry him the very next time he saw her. But he was worried she might think he was moving too quickly, so he decided that he should lead up to the subject. Give her time, get her used to thinking about it instead of firing off the question out of the blue. With that in mind, he asked her to come to dinner Friday night at his place.
He decided to make spaghetti sauce and noodles. It was one of Cole’s favorites, but he was going out with his friends. So Jack and Ava could have a nice, romantic dinner with candles and wine. He was even using the nice dishes instead of the chipped everyday ones.
He tuned in to a classic rock channel on the boom box he kept in the kitchen and started to get down to business, taking out the ground meat and crumbling it into the sauce pan. As it cooked he chopped onions and garlic, then sautéed them as soon as the meat had browned. He added more spices, tossed in tomato sauce and let it simmer, the longer the better.
He was cleaning up, singing along with Mick to “Sympathy for the Devil” when Cole came in shouting for him at the top of his lungs.
“Dad, Dad, come quick!”
“What? Calm down, Cole. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know! There’s water coming out of the ceiling fan in the den!”
He barely remembered to turn down the stove top burner before he ran out.
By the time Ava arrived, a couple of hours later, he hoped the evening could be salvaged. “Hey, you look great,” he said, kissing her after he opened the door.
“Thanks. What’s going on?” she asked. “I see the plumber’s truck is here.”
“Don’t ask. The water heater broke and I’ve had to get a new one, but they should be finished soon. We’ll eat once they leave.”
“I take it the dogs helped,” she said, glancing around the kitchen.
“Yeah, they had a great time. How did you know?”
“There are muddy paw prints all over the floor,” she said with a smile. She took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “At least you had sense enough to hire a plumber instead of trying to do it yourself. I remember one time my ex-husband decided he was going to fix the leak under our kitchen sink. It was a disaster and cost us twice as much as if we’d hired the plumber in the first place. Not to mention, after he broke it, he went off to play golf and left me to deal with it.”
He smiled, deciding not to mention the call he’d put in to Mark. “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your ex since you told me you were divorced.”
“Is it?” She looked surprised, then shrugged. “There’s really not much to talk about. We were married briefly a long time ago. I haven’t even set eyes on him since we filed for divorce. I don’t think about him very often, just when something reminds me of him.”
“You don’t sound bitter.”
“I suppose I was, once. But it was for the best. We should never have married in the first place.”
He walked to the kitchen and she followed. “Why?” He admitted he was curious. Had the dissolution of her marriage been as easy as she made it sound?
She crossed to the stove and sniffed the simmering red sauce. “Smells delicious. I love spaghetti. Did this come out of a jar? It looks homemade.”
“It is. Take a bite, and you can tell me if it needs anything.” Obviously, she was trying to change the subject. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“I’d love one.”
He poured them both a glass and handed one to her. “You don’t want to talk about your marriage.”
She took a sip of wine then asked, “Why are you so interested in my marriage?”
He leaned back against the counter and considered her. “Because we’ve never talked about it. We’ve talked about mine, but you’ve barely mentioned yours.”
“Therefore you should know all about mine.”
Her voice was flat and he thought there was more than a note of irritation in it. “It was a simple question, Ava. Nothing for you to get angry about.”
“I’m not angry. But has it occurred to you that I might not want to talk about my failed marriage to someone who so clearly had a good one?”
He stared at her a minute, then said, “No. I’m sorry, but it didn’t.”
She glared at him. “How can you be so nice when I’m being so unreasonable?”
He started to answer but the plumber called his name from the other room, so he had to go take care of him and the bill. When he returned, Ava was standing at the stove, stirring the sauce.
Turning around, she smiled at him. “I’m sorry.”
He went to her, hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
After they’d finished eating, Ava laid down her fork and looked at him, her eyes troubled. “Do you really want to know about my marriage?”
“Only if you want to tell me about it.” Which was a lie. He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t force her to talk about something that was painful to her, no matter how much she protested that it wasn’t important.
“His name was Paul. Paul Baxter. We were young, both in our early twenties. When we married, he promised me…something. Then he changed his mind. So we divorced.”
“What did he promise you, Ava?”
She looked away. “He swore to me that he didn’t want children. The only way I would marry him was if he promised that not having children wouldn’t bother him. He promised, so like a fool I believed him. Then a couple of years later, he met someone else, fell in love with her and got her pregnant.” She snapped her fingers. “Poof, no more marriage. He slapped me with divorce papers so fast it was ridiculous.”
He covered her hand and squeezed gently. “That must have hurt. Why didn’t you want children?”
&
nbsp; “I can’t have children. Which I told Paul when he started talking about marriage.”
“Are you sure? You were awfully young. Maybe the doctors—”
She interrupted, her tone flat and final. “Dead sure. I had to have a hysterectomy.”
Jack stared at her, at a complete loss for words. “God, Ava, I’m sorry,” he finally said. “No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it.”
She shrugged off his sympathy. “He knew what he was getting into when we married. Just as he knew I wouldn’t agree to adopt, either.”
“What’s wrong with adoption?”
“Nothing, for other people.”
“How can you categorically say you wouldn’t adopt a child? I’ve seen you with Cole. It’s obvious you like kids. I don’t understand.”
She simply looked at him. Her gaze was unfocused, as if she was in a different place, a different time. “I don’t deserve children.”
“That’s a crazy thing to say. Of course you deserve children. If you want them. Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.” She leaned forward and glared at him. “You asked for the story and I told you. Don’t blame me if you don’t like what you hear.”
“I don’t like for you to bash yourself by saying something like you don’t ‘deserve’ children.”
She got up, carrying her plate to the sink then turned around to look at him. “You don’t know me, Jack. I’m not like your wife. I’m not the wonderful human being she apparently was.”
“Where did that come from? I never said Cynthia was perfect, or that our marriage was perfect.” He took his own dishes, dumped them in the sink, then grasped her arms and looked down into her face. “I’m not comparing you to her, if that’s what you think. You’re a completely different woman. I’m glad you are.”
“You have no idea how different we are.”
Nothing she said was making sense to him. “Are you trying to pick a fight? What’s wrong, honey? What are you upset about?”
“Nothing, damn it!” Twisting away from him, she took off for the other room.
He followed, grabbing her arm before she reached the coat rack beside the front door, which she was clearly headed for. “Ava, wait. Don’t leave like this. Something else is bothering you. Tell me what it is.”
For a long moment she stared at him, and then the fight visibly drained out of her. “It’s not your fault. I’m upset and I’m being a bitch and taking it out on you.” She laughed homorlessly. “I warned you I wasn’t a nice person.”
He ignored the comment, though he wondered if she really believed she was so bad. And if she did believe it, why? “Come sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
Still concerned she might take off, he kept hold of her hand and led her to the couch. “What is it?”
Using her other hand, she massaged her temple. “I took your advice and now I’m having second thoughts.”
“What advice?”
“I called Mark and told him I’d see our mother. She’s coming to town tomorrow.”
“And you’re freaking out.”
“Pretty much. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I convinced you to talk about your marriage and you didn’t want to. I should have just let it be.”
“It shouldn’t be such a big deal. I said I’d see her. I didn’t promise to forgive her or anything else. Seeing her again shouldn’t matter so much.”
“She’s your mother. Of course it matters.”
“She hasn’t been my mother in more than twenty years.” She paused. “But lately, lately I’ve been remembering some of the good times. Before she grew so distant.” She shook her head. “Let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want to think about this anymore. There’s nothing to be said that hasn’t already been said. I just have to wait and see what happens.”
He let her choose a movie and put it in the DVD player, then turned the lights down low and settled back on the couch with his arms around her. Definitely not the time to propose. And given what she’d said about her first marriage, he was less optimistic that she’d accept when he did ask her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AVA HAD ASKED MARK to bring Lillian to her house. She hoped that wasn’t a mistake, but she thought being on her own turf would be to her advantage. Which sounded like she was fighting a battle.
Well, wasn’t she?
Her doorbell rang. Sucking in a deep breath, she reminded herself that all she had to do was see her mother. Nothing else. That’s all she’d promised. She opened the door.
“Hi,” Mark said. The woman beside him—their mother—held his arm as if it were a lifeline. She stared at Ava mutely, her eyes brilliant with unshed tears. Ava suspected she wanted to hug her, but she was in no way ready for that.
“Do you want me to stay or come back later?” Mark asked Ava. He glanced at their mother and smiled.
The smile held not a trace of bitterness. Ava realized he truly had forgiven her.
Ava didn’t answer immediately. She’s so small, was her first thought. She had almost forgotten Lillian was so petite. Ava had inherited her height from her father, one of the few things he’d given her she didn’t mind.
Lillian’s hair was blond, like Jay’s and Brian’s, and casually cut in a short, feathery style that suited her. Her eyes, a beautiful blue she’d passed on to Mark and Ava, still glistened with tears. She wore classic black slacks and a thin black sweater that made her look even smaller than she already did. She could have passed for ten years younger than her true age.
Opening the door wider, Ava stepped back. “I think we’ll do better alone. But thanks.”
“All right.” He bent to kiss Lillian’s cheek and gave her a supportive hug. “Call me on my cell phone when you want me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and walked inside. She stood staring at Ava, looking lost and alone, her white-knuckled hands clutching her purse in front of her.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” Ava said. “I thought I would, but I don’t.”
“I know this is…difficult for you. Thank you for—for letting me come. It means more to me than I can possibly tell you.”
Again, Ava got the impression that her mother wanted to hug her. Why did she feel mean because she wasn’t ready to let her do that? When she’d already taken a huge step in simply seeing her.
“Let’s sit down. There’s no reason to stand around like this.” Ava took a seat in the over-stuffed chair, letting Lillian sit on the couch beside it.
“You’re so beautiful,” her mother said, her voice cracking. “You were such a pretty child, I knew you’d be beautiful when you grew up.”
“We can cut the small talk,” Ava said, determined to take control of the situation. “Did Mark tell you why I ran away? What happened that night?”
Biting her lip, Lillian looked down at her hands and nodded. “Yes, he told me what you’d told him and Jay. Your father beat you and he threatened to hurt your brothers. Rather than face him again, you ran away.”
“I ran for my life. I knew he’d kill me the next time,” Ava said flatly.
Lillian’s eyes met Ava’s. “I didn’t know. You may not believe me, but I swear, I didn’t know. If I had, I’d have—” she faltered to a halt.
“You’d have what? Just what would you have done if you’d realized he beat the hell out of me? Left him?” She fired the words like bullets and her mother jerked back in shock, her expression anguished. But Ava couldn’t stop and she pressed on. “Emotional abuse is okay but beating your child isn’t? Is that it?”
She looked as if Ava had hit her. “Miranda—”
“My name is Ava now,” she interrupted. “Don’t call me Miranda. Miranda Kincaid doesn’t exist anymore.” That girl had died long ago, her innocence destroyed.
Lillian whitened further and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I forgot. Mark told me.” She drew in a shaky breath and started again. “Ava, you
have every reason to hate me. I should have left your father. But I was afraid. And I didn’t understand, not until years later, what he’d done to you children. I thought—I thought I was his main target, I didn’t realize how bad it was for you children.”
Hadn’t she? Or was that an excuse? “Jay said you were sick. That you were hospitalized for depression.” She didn’t want to feel sympathy for her mother, but she did.
“Yes, but not until later. After your father left. And it doesn’t matter. What matters is I let you down. I let down all my children, but especially you.”
Ava didn’t comment because it was true.
“When you ran away, when the police couldn’t find you, I thought you were dead. I wanted to die. But I didn’t. I had private detectives look for you, against your father’s commands. But I didn’t leave him, I couldn’t. Even though it was horrible living with him, I was scared to leave. Afraid to be on my own, with the boys to take care of. I don’t know what would have happened if your father hadn’t left us, but I thank God every day that he did.”
“I still don’t understand why you stayed with him. I’ll never understand why.”
“There’s no simple answer. But—I thought I deserved his treatment of me. It took me years of therapy to understand why I allowed him to treat me that way. It wasn’t until I married Walt that I knew what a good marriage was and just how truly bad my first one had been.”
Years of therapy, depression, even hospitalization while she fought to get her life together. Her mother hadn’t come out of the marriage without scars. She must have felt as helpless as Ava had, as battered by circumstance as Ava had been. It hadn’t really sunk in until now that Lillian had been a victim, too. Ava had known it intellectually, but she’d never felt that kinship with her mother until this very moment.
“You’ll never forgive me, will you?” Lillian asked quietly.
“I…don’t know. It’s too soon.” But she wanted to. For the first time, she wanted to let go of the past. Could she have a relationship with her mother, as well as her brothers? Only if she allowed it.
