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“Good,” I agreed. “I’m glad you see the logic.”
“I’m sorry I had to drag you into this.”
“You didn’t drag me into anything,” I assured her. “Marcus did. He’s the one who’s creating all the drama.”
Ava sighed. I could see the relief on her face and knew I was doing the right thing. We drove to her place. It didn’t escape me that even though it was supposed to be a secret place known only to the employees of the nonprofit, that I knew where it was. I knew because of my mother’s involvement. But if one extra person was aware, it stood to reason that there could be more.
How he found her probably wasn’t as important as the fact that he had accomplished it. She was no longer safe in the little hiding spot, so we had to get her out of there. I parked and came up with her. I noticed she threw the flowers away, just as she had tried to at the office. This time, she managed to neatly tuck the entire vase in the trash can, but it was all still there.
Knowing a little bit about flowers (I sent them to my mom every year for her birthday and for Mother’s Day), I could see they were expensive. It wasn’t a small bouquet, but a medium-sized one, complete with baby’s breath and decorative ferns. Whoever Marcus was, he dropped a pretty penny on his threatening message. I guessed that he had some resources at his disposal. It made sense. He was able to uncover her place of residence as well as her place of business.
Ava went straight for the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of the closet. She loaded it up with a few of the fashions that my mother had given her. She ducked into the bathroom and returned with a well-worn toiletries bag. The speed at which she accomplished all that was astonishing. I was expecting to wait around for at least fifteen to twenty minutes, but she was ready in three.
“I’ve never seen someone pack so fast,” I observed.
She gave me a cold stare, and I realized that I missed her sense of humor. She called me out without a second thought, putting me in my place with just an upturned eyebrow. “You mean you’ve never seen a woman pack so fast.”
“I might mean that,” I hesitated, not sure how much I could admit without getting myself in trouble.
“Hmm,” she replied, one hand on her hip. “Not all women are high maintenance.”
“Not all women have experience being homeless either,” I pointed out.
She sighed. “You hit the nail on the head.”
“Okay,” I agreed. There was no point in standing around arguing. If she was ready, we could just go.
I grabbed the suitcase, against her protests, and walked it out to the car. She followed silently, and I felt as if we were escaping from some overbearing parental figure, or an intrusive governmental agency. It was like the CIA was watching us and we had to be careful. I didn’t know how far Marcus’s reach extended, and whether he was watching at that exact moment.
Odds were that he had just learned of her whereabouts and sent the flowers to unsettle her. It didn’t mean he was hiding out in an apartment across the street with a pair of binoculars. But it didn’t mean hewasn’thiding out across the street, I told myself. I had to be prepared for anything, even hand to hand combat if it came down to that. Hopefully the guy didn’t have a gun.
I hustled Ava into my car and sped off. My own home was in a gated community, so there was a little bit more protection afforded there. We parked and I walked around to open the door for her.
I could see she was recovering from her shock somewhat. Escorting her inside, I put her suitcase down near the door. There were two extra rooms I had for guests, one with a queen-sized bed and one with two twins. I walked her to the room with one bed, turning on the lights so she could have a look around.
This guest room came with its own bathroom. I showed her the shower and suggested she might want to make use of it. She declined.
“I’m not really in a mood to be naked,” she said.
“That’s a pity,” I replied, the words out before I realized how vulgar they sounded. “I’m going to go make us something to eat.”
“I’d like to call your mom, if that’s okay,” she asked.
“Of course.”
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. Mom was exactly the person to help us understand this conundrum. She had experience with victims of domestic violence before. She had connections in the community who helped women restart their lives after stalking and harassment. If she couldn’t do anything for us, at least she would know who to call.
I went into the kitchen to work on a meal while Ava got in touch with my mom. I wanted to go straight to the gym and punch out some of my frustrations, but I also wanted to remain accessible. If I was busy beating the bag to death, Ava might not want to interrupt me. She might see me doing it and be turned off, or she might worry about my own headspace.
Cooking was almost as soothing as working out. I decided to make something that was healthy but had a bunch of steps. That way I could zone out and get into the rhythm, picking myself up so that I could be a better support for Ava. I settled on grilled chicken with peppers and zucchini.
I cut onions first, then sliced the peppers lengthwise before stirring them together. A little bit of olive oil brought out the flavors, and as the vegetables cooked, I considered what the rest of the day was going to look like.
Reflecting, I realized I couldn’t help feeling protective of Ava. Our single exchange didn’t mean that I was her boyfriend, but it gave me some stake in the outcome. Certainly, Marcus would be interested to know that we were intimate, if he didn’t know it already. Maybe that’s what prompted this renewed interest in Ava as a life partner. Maybe he found out somehow that she was moving on and decided not to let her.
I should be mad. I should be furious at the guy for messing with her. Instead, I felt numb. I got through thirty-three years without dealing with this kind of crap. I had countless interactions with women, but none of them had been stalked. At least not to my knowledge. Maybe it was because I never cared enough to find out. Maybe some of my other hook ups were dealing with things they would rather not talk about.
The thought made me sick. It was painful to be a part of the same gender as some guy who tried to intimidate women that way. I wanted to apologize to Ava on behalf of all men, but I knew that wouldn’t help. I was thrilled when the doorbell rang, knowing it was probably my mom. I turned the burner down and went to answer it, welcoming her into my home.
