Page 78 of Corkscrew You
Ava closes her book, removes her glasses, and sets both on her bedside table. Her movements are deliberate, as if she’s working hard to stay patient. Fair enough. She thinks I’ve come here to talk, so why don’t I get on with it. And now Iamhere, I find Idowant to offload.
“Dinner’s cancelled,” I tell her.
“Oh, crap, really?”
Ava looks genuinely crestfallen, which I didn’t expect.
“Shit, you told the others the plan, didn’t you?” I think I have the right to sound accusatory. “Ava, for fuck’s sake.”
She purses her mouth in a quick but defiant apology.
“I told Max because I wanted his help with the cooking,” she says. “Of course, he told Izzy because the twins have no secrets. And then they felt bad that Danny was the only one who didn’t know, so they told him, too. Had all three of them interrogate me about it. Theyallagreed it was worth a shot.”
Now, the look she gives me is definitely a little sheepish. “I had to set them straight about how you felt about Shelby Armstrong.”
Do you think it’s actually possible for life to go in a single, non-complicated line for more than one fucking day? Seems not.
“Thathas changed,” is all I intend to say.
“Everyone has arguments.”
Ava has a real knack for the sympathetic response.
“Wasn’t just an argument,” I tell her. “She said something that I don’t think we can come back from.”
“That’s what happens in arguments.” Ava dials up the sympathy another notch. “We can sayterriblethings in the heat of the moment. I once accused a guy of liking the DaveMatthewsband. It’s a wonder he ever spoke to me again.”
“Yeah, this is really funny,” I say, angrily. “Go ahead. Laugh it up.”
“OK, that example wasn’t serious,” she concedes. “But only because I’m too embarrassed to tell you some of thetrulyawful stuff I’ve thrown at people I’ve cared about.”
“And didyoualways come back from it?”
“Yeah…” She nods, slowly. “But not without effort. Apologizing is a good start.”
“Isn’tmewho has to apologize.”
“No?” She appraises me again. “You didn’t overreact? Because you were hurt?”
Shit.
“Nate, you’re a Durant,” she says. “And we’ve got a long, proud history of immoveable stubbornness. Exhibit A: our father. So I have to ask, and excuse the choice of words: is this a hill you really want to die on?”
I blow out a long breath.
“I just … I can’t trust her anymore.”
Sounds pathetic, but it feels like an elemental truth.
“You and Shelby have known each other for ananosecond,” Ava says. “Trust takes time. And OK, I’m not exactly stellar at maintaining long-term relationships, but Idoknow it’s how you navigate those early days that makes or breaks you. It’s how we respond when we find out that the other is only human, not the incredible perfect being of our dreams.”
She smiles at me, with wry affection. “Bro, we all fuck up. Trick is to fully accept that, and not, deep down, keep holding the people we love to impossible standards.”
I know she’s right. But I’m dead tired, every muscle aches, and I can’t get past feeling hurt. I hear Shelby’s words in my head, and they still cut me deep. I need time before I even startthinkingabout whether I want to try again with Shelby. Time away from her, or at least at a safe distance.
“Nate.” The sudden urgency in Ava’s tone sets off alarm bells.
“Izzy, Max and Dan are sick with worry,” she says. “About Dad, but even more, about Mom. Dan is convinced Mom’s heading for some kind of breakdown. He wanted her to see Doc Wilson, but she refused. They’re desperate.I’mdesperate. We’re willing to tryanything.”
