I peer into her glistening eyes, confused by the sudden shift in our conversation and her praise. Mrs. Marshall has never been one to hold back praise, but it’s been a few solid months since she has been so frank. Actually, the last time she was forthright was when she urged me to reconsider my partnership with Marvin. Although she said she would support me in any decision I made, I saw her disappointment relayed in her wholesome eyes when I informed her of mydecision.
“I’m proud you are not holding Joel against Hugo,” she explains to my bemused expression. “You have every right to be angry at Hugo. Hell, I’m still peeved at him. But you’re handling this situation with grace and dignity. Like a true lady. That makes meveryproud of you. Not just today, buteveryday.”
My nose tingles as fresh tears well in my eyes. Unable to articulate how much her words mean to me, I return her embrace with an extrasqueeze.
Chapter Thirteen
Ava
Three dayslater…
“Where the hell are you?”I mutter, lifting a plastic sheet off a half-assembleddesk.
My eyes frantically dart around the space, trying in vain to locate my handbag. The faint sound of my cell phone ringing has been shrilling into the room the past two minutes, but I can’t locate my phone under allthemess.
“Check the boxes near the door,” suggests Belinda, pointing to a three-stack of moving boxes near the frontentrancedoor.
The volume of my cell phone ringing increases as I urgently pace to theboxes.
“There you are!” I scold, yanking my handbag out of thetopbox.
My heart rate kicks up a gear when I peer down at the screen and notice it is Hugocalling.
“Hello,” I greet him, pressing the phone intomyear.
“Hey, where are you?” Hugoreplies.
No matter how many times I’ve heard his deep voice the past three days, it still causes a peppering of goosebumps to form on the surface of my skin every time Ihearit.
“We’ve been knocking on your front door the past five minutes,” Hugoaddson.
My eyes dart around the space, seeking any type of time-telling contraption. When my gaze comes up empty, I peer out a small tear in the newspaper taped around a window.Shit, it’s darkoutside.
“I’m so sorry, I lost track of the time. The plumber was a moron, and between hisstupidityand--”
I stop talking when Hugo’s deep chuckle sounds down the line. “It’s fine, Ava. I’m more than happy to keep Joel for a few more hours if you’re busy,” heoffers.
My heart clenches in my chest. I’ve missed Joel so much the past three days, but I’ve taken a step back from my parenting role to give him and Hugo time to become acquainted with each other. For the past three days, every morning, bright and early, Hugo arrives and collects Joel. They’ve visited the Central Park Zoo, been to see a Knicks game, and even took a day trip to Liberty Island. Although I feel like I’m missing my right arm, Joel needs this just as much asHugodoes.
Any concerns I have of Hugo breaking Joel’s heart are diminishing as the days go on. Joel has never been so happy. He even wakes up smiling. I'm confident to say in a short period of time, Joel has fallen in love with Hugo. I can’t blame him. Hugo is a lovable guy. I fell in love with him in days too. Although I’m still harboring anger at Hugo for the way he left, I can’t help but feel joy when I see the way Joel’s face lights up around him. When I collected Hugo’s death certificate two years ago, I never thought I would have the opportunity to see them standing side by side. That makes it a precious memory I'll treasure for a lifetime and proves what I’ve always known: Joel is the key to myheart.
“Could you bring Joel here?” I query, my voice low as I struggle to keep my sentimental tearsatbay.
“Sure. Where are you at?” Hugoreplies.
Just from the change in his tone, I know he has detected the unease in my voice. Hugo’s always been able to read me. More often than not, he’s known my response before I evenformedone.
After reciting the address to Hugo, I throw my cell phone into the box and rush into the crammed bathroom. Belinda, the receptionist from Gardner and Sons, and my friend, laughs at my frantic dash. I grimace when I catch sight of my disheveled reflection in the mirror. I have smudge marks all over my face, my hair is a wild, frizzy mess from the small scattering of snow I scurried through earlier today, and my eyes display my lack of sleep. I lookwretched.
Wetting a napkin in the grime-covered sink, I run it over my face. It isn’t that I’m trying to impress Hugo, I just don’t want him to think I’m a slob.Oh, who am I kidding?I’ve been waking up before the sun rises the past three days just to ensure I’m presentable before Hugo arrives. It is stupid and I don’t have the faintest idea why I keep torturing myself. But no matter how many times I reprimand myself, I continue to do it. Hugo has seen me at my worst; no amount of makeup is going to changethatfact.
Huffing, I throw the napkin into the bin and pivot of myheels.
“You look fine. You have that artsy look going on,” Belinda chuckles when she spots myscowl.
I stick my tongue out at her snickering face before settingtowork.
By the time Hugo and Joel arrive thirty minutes later, I’m covered with a dense layer of sweat, splatters of paint, and I’m way behindschedule.
