Page 23 of Where Are You Now
“I should’ve believed you, but that’s not why I’m crying. I wish your father had been there for you. So where is he?” she whispered.
Ava’s lip wobbled. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Her own tears began to fall, shocking her. She’d never allowed herself to cry for her father. She’d felt it showed weakness, and she knew he’d want her to be strong. “Do you think he didn’t come because I never cried for him until now?” Ava asked, guilt swarming her. “Has he been waiting to know how much we love him?”
Her mom tipped her head up toward the starry sky, tears streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Ava, I hope not. I thought being resilient would help you cope. There’s no manual on how to grieve with a child.”
She and her mom had never mourned together over her father. Their silence had been an unspoken act of strengthbetween them, but sitting there—just the two of them—she let the tears fall. When she did, her mom cried too. Ava wrapped her arms around her. They sat, embracing, sobbing over the person they’d both loved so deeply.
Ava wiped the tears away with her wrist. “I’ve been so emotional ever since the accident. I don’t know where it’s coming from.”
“I do.”
Ava locked eyes with her mom.
“Whenever you dealt with hard things, your dad was always your guy. And when you faced the accident—the most difficult thing you’ve ever faced—he wasn’t there.”
“I miss him so much.” Her words withered on her emotion.
“Me too.” Her mother looked back up at the stars. “Think he can see us?”
“I have no idea.”
“I hope he can.”
Chapter Seven
Ava woke with the sun. Her mother hadn’t gotten up yet, so Ava spent some time setting up her new phone. Then, she slipped on a sweater, made a cup of coffee, and took it outside to sit by the lake. She gripped her mug with both hands and stepped up to the edge of the deck, where the wood met the water. Later today, she’d be able to sit on the threshold and dip her feet in, but the morning was chilly, so she sat cross-legged instead.
In the early-morning light, it was almost as if the lake itself were breathing, ebbing and flowing in unison with the rise and fall of her chest. The trees rustled in the breeze; the string lights swayed above her. She picked up a thin twig nearby that had blown onto the deck and tossed it into the water, making a small splash.
The coffee steamed in her hands. She took a long drink; the creamy caramel tasted decadent compared to her usual morning power smoothies back home.
Out there, it was as if time stood still. Anyone sitting on this deck wouldn’t give a moment’s thought to ColemanMedia, Scott Strobel, or her partnership that hung in the balance.
“Morning,” Martha said, coming out and sitting down with her. “Thanks for making a pot of coffee.” She held up her mug.
Ava smiled and breathed in the fresh air. “Dad would’ve loved it here.”
“That’s why I bought the cabin.”
“You never told me that. I thought you just couldn’t face our old house because it reminded you of him.”
“That’s true. But I also wanted to be somewhere he loved. It made me feel close to him without dragging me through all the memories.”
“Remember how I used to fish with him every Saturday? I regret not going as often during my teen years. But I had no idea my time with him would be so short.”
Martha put her arm around her and Ava laid her head on her mom’s shoulder.
“I called out for him so many nights,” Martha said, “and he didn’t come. So I know how you feel having not seen him.”
Ava peered out at the water that her father had loved so much. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear his rugged voice as he said,“Hey, squirt! You up for a bait and float?”Bait and float was his term of endearment for fishing. It felt like centuries since she’d heard it.
“Do you still have his fishing rods, by chance?” Ava asked.
“They’re packed up in the shed.”
“I think I want to fish when we get home from my therapy appointment. It would make me feel closer to him.”
“If anything will bring him closer, it’s fishing.” Her mother winked and then took a drinkfrom her mug.
