Page 11 of Where Are You Now
“I made a few for a craft show in the next town over. One of the ladies said I could get forty dollars for them, so I priced them all at that, and I made enough to buy this machine.”
“Wow.” Ava couldn’t imagine having enough time on her hands to quilt a bunch of handbags.
Then something off-topic occurred to her. Her mother had been able to acquire a new espresso machine out here. Had she gone into Nashville or…?
“Can you get online deliveries this far from town?” Ava could order a new laptop. And if they could receive deliveries, she could probably get a new hotspot and link it to her current account for internet access if her mother didn’t have any.
“I’ve never tried.” Her mom pulled two turquoise-glazed ceramic mugs from the cabinet, packed the portafilter with coffee, and turned on the espresso machine. She frothed a small pitcher of milk and added it to the shot, then handed a mug to Ava. “Shall we take our coffee outside?” Martha asked, opening the glass double doors leading to the deck.
“Did you string those bulb lights?” Ava gestured toward the strands of festive bulbs looped around two wide oak trees and suspended above the wooden deck.
“I had a handyman come out and do it.” Her mother removed the wire grating from the stone firepit and lit the logs. Then she took a seat on one of the tweed-cushioned chairs positioned around the firepit.
“They’re nice.”
“Thanks. I enjoy them.” She held her cup with both hands.
To avoid too much pain as she went to sit next to her mother, Ava laid her fingers on the bandages that secured her ribs and covered the stitched-up gashes. She breathed in the cool, mossy air and was struck by the absolute quiet and seclusion of the setting. The only sounds were the rustling of the trees and a lowplunkin the water as fish jumped. The atmosphere was a far cry from the bustling streets she was used to. As she thought this, a cardinal settled on a branch above them.
Sitting alone with her mother was surreal. Growing up, her mom had been around the house, but she was a quiet soul, the yin for Ava’s father’s yang. Being more like her dad, Ava had never found common ground with her mom socially. Martha had been the caretaker of the family, cleaning up after them, making dinners, and rounding up whatever Ava needed for school. So when Ava’s dad died, the main thing that unified her and Martha was the shared loss.
“You like being out here all by yourself?” Ava asked.
“Absolutely,” her mother said right away, but there was something in her eyes when she replied. “Or I wouldn’t have stayed for years.” Whatever had flashed—uncertainty?—had vanished as quickly as it had shown.
“It’s usually Christmas when I come, and Aunt Shelly and Uncle Bruce are visiting with their camper and a caravan of cars full of family. It’s so loud and busy with everyone visiting, I hadn’t thought about how quiet the lake could be until now. I bet you do like it.”
Her mother nodded. “It’s nice to be away from things.”
The water swish-swashed against the shore on either side of them.
“How are you feeling after all the travel?” her mother asked. “Are you comfortable?”
“As comfortable as I can be.”
“Good.”
Her mother looked out over the water, something heavy lurking in her eyes. She was probably coming down after all the stress of the accident.
Ava sipped the creamy coffee. The smoky espresso had notes of caramel and chocolate. But she wasn’t thinking too much about her drink. A dull pain in her side distracted her. How was it that she was sitting there, given the state of the other driver? How had she managed to escape death so easily? She couldn’t help but wonder if some other force had actually healed her.
She knew, deep down, what that force had been. She’d heard him in his own words—the all-knowing force she’d grown up to call God. Until she found Lucas, she couldn’t help but fear that her good fortune could be fleeting. Was she wasting time just sitting there?
Finding Lucas seemed absurd, but so did the idea that she’d gotten to choose her fate. And she was sure that choice had been an absolute reality. It hadn’t been a dream or the drugs. She’d been as clear-headed then as she was now. People could say what they wanted about her experience, but her time in that other place had really happened. And she had the lack of injuries to prove it.
“Mom, could I borrow your phone?”
“Gosh, I think I got two minutes with you before you asked to do work.”
“It’s not for work. I just thought I’d try to look up Lucas, see what he’s doing these days.”
“Is this about that dream you had?”
“Mom, I don’t believe it was a dream. But whatever it was got me thinking about Lucas, so it would be nice to look him up.”
“All right.”
Her mother went inside and retrieved her phone.
