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She looks tired. She looks sad. She looks small all tucked into her coat.
Desperate to talk to her, I ask the first question that comes to mind.
“Did you just fly in this morning?”
She frowns and drops her eyes to her hands. Both of them are sitting in her lap, and her left hand starts tapping on her leg.
“Yes,” she answers, as I reach across the truck and lay my hand over hers. She links her fingers through mine and lets out a sigh.
“You must be exhausted. Let’s get you inside so you can rest for a bit.”
She looks around the driveway again, and her right hand reaches up to touch the bandage on her head. I wish I could understand what she’s thinking; I hate that she’s not talking to me.
“Okay.” She slides out of the truck and I do the same, quickly catching up to her to help her across the driveway.
Whiskey bolts out the door and I yell, “Heel.” Clay and I have been trying to train him and I’m praying the newly learned command will work.
He stops midstride, and cocks his head at us. I know him, she knows him, and he is five feet away from ramming his head into her leg. I’m certain she has bruises from falling; I just don’t know where yet.
He follows us into the house, and it’s very quiet. Ava pulls away from me and wraps her arms around her stomach.
“Actually, Ash, I think I’m going to go ahead and go.” She looks around the living room and then to the front door.
“What? Why? You just got here.” I walk into the kitchen and stare at her from across the island.
No girl has ever confused me before like this one. Yes, she’s been a mystery from the beginning, and yes, she’s been a puzzle that took me a while to put together, but she let me. She let me in, and I am not letting her go. She came all this way because of me, because of us, and once and for all, we’re gonna talk. There’s no way I’m letting her leave until she tells me exactly what happened.
“You have company, and I don’t think I should be here.” Her eyes fall to Bryce’s plastic plate sitting on the counter. Does she not like children?
Next to the plate, there’s a note. I pick it up and see it’s from Jules.
Hey,
Thanks so much for letting us crash this week. I do still love coming here, and it was much needed. Sorry for the hasty departure, but given the situation, I’m thinking you probably want the house to yourselves. I also think you’re right, it’s time to stop hiding and give myself a chance. Please tell Avery that I can’t wait to meet her and I’m sorry if I played any part in her confusion. Good luck, big brother! Hopefully, I’ll be hearing good news from you . . .
Oh, Clay spoke to his friend, Emma, so the three of us are headed to her house. We’ll see you tomorrow.
Love, Jules
Well, there you go. I no longer have any company, so there’s no reason for her to leave. Not wanting there to be any more barriers, secrets, miscommunication, or anything between us, I walk the letter over and hand it to her to read.
Her eyes scan over the words twice as she bites on her bottom lip. I lean backward against the island, cross my arms over my chest, and watch for any clue of what she’s thinking.
“Brother,” she says quietly to herself.
“Yeah, she loves to call me that, even though I’m only older than her by two weeks.”
Ava’s eyes flash up to mine and her fingers clench the letter. Her forehead wrinkles in confusion and she shakes her head like she has no idea what I’m talking about.
Turning away from me, she walks into the living room and slowly sits down on the couch. I follow her, pick up the remote to turn on the electric fireplace, and then sit down next to her. Her back is straight and every muscle is tight. I want her warm, and comfortable. I want her to stay.
“But?” She leaves the question lingering in the air, and turns to look at me.
I lean back against the cushions and toss my arm across the back of the couch. “I thought you understood. She’s not just my friend, she’s my family.” I really thought she understood how much my family meant to me.
Her eyes scan my face, she starts breathing harder, and her hand moves to rub the bandage on her head. “So, you two aren’t . . . ?”
She can’t be serious, especially after that weekend in Nashville. “Aren’t what?” I ask, feeling slightly annoyed, but amused at the same time.
