9. Ava
“I don’t think I want to go home tomorrow.” I turned to Lydia and smiled at her through my sunglasses. The hot, Florida sun beat down on my skin, and the sand between my toes was nice and chilly.
She grinned right back. Half of her face was hidden by the monstrous sun hat she picked up in a tourist shop. “I could stay here forever.”
The past two weeks had been a vacation I’d desperately needed. It wasn’t at all like me to rush off like that in the middle of the night, but after the run-in with Jimmy, the kiss with Cameron, what he’d said…
“Better than I remember.”
I flipped out. Absolutely freaked out, and the only thing keeping me from feeling completely bad about how I bolted was that this vacation had been needed, more than I’d realized at the time. It gave me time to think. To process without anyone else voicing their opinions or plans for me.
He remembered. The jerk who’d gotten in my face for years, taunted me, teased me… he’d known exactly what he was doing. I still don’t think I’d processed that—not only his admission but what it meant. And that kiss…
I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as hard as I tried to ignore it. It replayed in my memories, in my dreams. I was hours away on the Florida coast, and my head was still stuck back in that damn hallway.
When I’d texted Lydia and said I needed a ride to Denver, she hadn’t hesitated. She’d come up with the plan to go on vacation, though, and announced it when she came to pick me up. She’d swung by her house and packed, and she’d done it all in less than half an hour. Crazy was my best friend, but damn smart. She knew exactly what I needed.
By the time we got to Cameron’s house, I had flights booked for us to Mobile, Alabama, a rental car waiting for us, and an Airbnb booked on Destin’s sandy white beaches.
We packed up my suitcases, and then Lydia followed me to a hotel close to the airport. I left an extra suitcase of things I’d taken to Cameron’s but wouldn’t need in Florida in the trunk of my car when we parked at the airport the next morning. We boarded our flight, and two and a half hours after landing in Alabama, we were sinking our toes into the sand and kicking the water in the Gulf of Mexico. Except for eating and shopping, we hadn’t left the beach.
I called my parents and told them what was going on. They’d been worried. I assured them we were fine. Then I called Isaiah and made him swear an oath that he’d keep his mouth shut to absolutely anyone who asked that he didn’t know where I was.
If Cameron truly wanted to talk to me so badly, I didn’t doubt he’d hop on a plane and hunt me down on the beach. And since I’d blocked his number as soon as I left his house, I had no idea if he’d tried to get a hold of me.
Tomorrow, we returned to Denver. We returned to real life.
Lydia was going back to her life running the grocery store with her mom in New Haven, and I was starting a brand-new chapter back in New Haven as well.
Fortunately for me, when we returned, Cameron would be in training camp, busy for the next two weeks, which gave me even more time to figure out what in the world I was going to say to him the next time I saw him.
There would be a reckoning, one way or another.
This whole time… he’d known.
“It’s good your job is letting you work remote,” Lydia said.
I’d talked to my boss, and after he had to ask the higher-ups, I received confirmation it was a go. It was either that or give my two weeks’ notice, and since I didn’t want to be unemployed, I was thrilled they agreed.
“Fortunately, with the number of farms around Plum County, I’ll have plenty of content.” I’d need to travel occasionally, and I could do a day trip into the office if I needed to.
Lydia’s smile went soft. “And I get my best friend back, so I’m excited.”
“I’m getting there.”
I brushed sand off my thighs and sat up in my lounge chair. The water was the clearest blue, and every morning I’d come down to the beach for a walk and sip a cup of coffee. Usually I caught some dolphins swimming and jumping.
Destin would be hard to leave, and I was apprehensive when I thought about moving back to New Haven, but there was also a peace in my soul as the time grew closer to return.
For the first time since I graduated college, I was finally making a decision based solely on what I wanted.
It also helped that Cameron’s training camp for the Mountaineers was starting the day we got back. I’d have two weeks to get settled before I had to worry about seeing him again.
Perhaps by then, after a full month had passed after that kiss I swore I could still taste on my lips when I was in bed at night, I’d figure out what to say to him.
“Do you know what we need?” Lydia asked, and she swung her feet off the lounge chair into the sand.
“What?”
Her smile was almost as bright as the cloudless sky above us. “Sarah K’s Gourmet.”
Oh god. I’d eaten enough of those crab cakes to last me a lifetime, but they were so damn good, I couldn’t say no. Whoever Sarah was, she had a gift. We’d eaten from her take-out restaurant almost every day. Outside the beach, her food might be what I missed most about leaving Florida.
“Obviously,” I teased Lydia.
We gathered our things and left our rented beach umbrella and chairs and headed up the wooden walk to the condo building where our place was.
We stuffed ourselves with crab cakes. We spent more time in the sun, we ate dinner, shared a bottle of wine, and then we packed.
The next night, I walked into my parents’ house, dropped my bags, and fell into my mom’s arms and cried.
“It’s so good to be home.”
“We’re so thrilled you came back.”
“And your apartment is settled then, too?” My dad had his standard nightly Jim Beam on the rocks in his hand, and when he shook it, the gray whiskey stones rattled.
“Yeah. That was a nice surprise, but since I hadn’t moved in yet, they called the next in line on the waiting list. I have to cover the first month’s rent until they can move in, but it’s better than paying both to cancel it.”
“That’s good, Ava. And you’re sure this is what you want? You’ve had a rough couple of months….”
I knew exactly where Dad was going with this. He wasn’t raised in this town, Mom was. I was pretty sure he never wanted to move here, and I wasn’t even sure he loved the farm life, even though he did the work without complaint. He moved here and took over Mom’s parents’ farm because he loved her. Was willing to be anywhere she was and do it to the absolute best of his ability.
It worked for him.
I wasn’t throwing away my dreams, though, to live in New Haven. Living in New Haven for the rest of my life was my dream. Small as that may be. I’d had two weeks to carefully consider all the pros and cons of moving back to my hometown, and outside of a few restaurants in Denver I loved, there wasn’t anything there for me.
“I’m good, Dad. Honest. This is where I want to be, and once I can find my own place, you and Mom can go back to loving the empty nester life.”
He huffed and rattled his glass and set it down without taking a sip. “Soon as I can get Isaiah to figure out how to work his own stove and oven, I’ll be a happy man. Know it’s been a long day for you, Ava, but is there any chance you’re willing to go somewhere with your old man? Won’t take long.”
“I’ll go anywhere with you.”
My dad grinned. And man, I loved him. When I called my parents to tell them Lydia and I were headed to Florida, they freaked out. But they settled quickly when I told them I needed a break, time away to get my head on straight and figure some things out. Since then, they’d not only Venmo’d me an unreasonable amount of money to help fund the trip, but they’d supported every step I took. And when I’d called from Florida to ask if I could move home for a bit, they’d said yes without hesitation.
Still, there was worry in their tone. I couldn’t blame them for that.
“All right. Let me go tell your mom we’re heading out, and then we’ll take off. We’ll take Judy.”
Judy. My mom’s red truck.
“I’ll get her started.”
Dad went and found Mom, who’d taken off after dinner to go take a bath and work on some sewing projects in her sewing room, and I headed outside to start the truck.
I slid across into the passenger seat when Dad came out, dressed in Wranglers, his boots, and a flannel shirt despite it being the middle of August.
“Where are we headed?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” My dad wasn’t normally cryptic, but he did have a sweet tooth, so as we headed toward town, I fully expected him to pass the courthouse in the square and take a left to Haven’s Heavenly Creamery, the town ice cream shop.
Instead, he turned right before the square, went two blocks down and took another left.
“Where are we?” These were residential streets. Small, old, and original houses built at least a hundred years ago. Most of them were well-maintained. Small, two- and three-bedroom bungalows with deep front porches and flat, square, fenced-in backyards. Lydia’s home was two streets past where we’d turned.
It was late, around eight, and it felt later than that to me. I chalked that up to the hour time change and the long day of travel and fought a yawn as Dad pulled into a driveway on the right side of the street.
It was adorable. Three white pillars were lined up along the front of the porch. Between the far right and center was a black railing, with double windows on the home behind it. Straight up from the stairs was a front door, another double window to the left. The landscaping was green and bright and looked recently mulched.
“Whose house is this?”
Dad chewed his bottom lip but turned off the truck. “Said I wanna show you something.”
Weird. Mysterious. My dad was neither, and he normally didn’t chew his lip like he was nervous.
Still, I hopped down out of the truck and followed him up to the front porch, which had to have been recently painted. It was a deep gray, with two white rocking chairs on the porch and, at the far end, a swinging bench also painted white.
Dad opened the screen door, turned the knob on the front door, and walked right in.
What in the world? “Dad…”
He flipped on a light, and the house lit up.
We’d stepped right into what had to be the living room. Wood floors that showed wear, but not too much. Light-cream-painted walls with bright white crown and floor moldings. The living room was empty, and I was still confused, still trying to figure out what was going on when my knees buckled.
“Dad…”
Because beyond the living room we’d walked into was a galley kitchen with a narrow island, and past that, sat a kitchen table. My kitchen table that was supposed to be in storage in Denver. Instead, it was back there, illuminated beneath a black chandelier.
Dad’s jaw worked back and forth, and he blew out a breath. “Didn’t know if this was a good idea or not, and I know you like to do things on your own, but your mom and I talked, and we know how much you love this town, how much you wanted to live here even before you made that decision, so we figured this wasn’t too much of a jump.”
“I don’t get it,” I whispered and stepped further into the house.
I reached an opening to the right of the family room that opened to a small hallway.
“It’s small,” my dad said. “Barely a thousand square feet, and it’s only got two bedrooms, but I figured one could be your office since you’ll be working from home now.”
I spun on my heels and gaped at my dad.
He kept speaking, scanning the space. “Bathroom doesn’t have a lot of space either, but it does connect to your bedroom, which I thought you’d like. Might have to get creative with storage and all of that, but well, it should suit.”
“Dad, what are you talking about?”
“Talked to your mom. Saw this on the market. Someone in Gavin’s company bought it and fixed it up to flip it. Figured there isn’t a huge point in waiting until I’m gone to see you spend your inheritance, so I figured, what the hell. Why not?”
What the hell was right. “I don’t understand.”
My dad dug into the front pocket of his jeans and held out a set of keys. “House is yours. Mom and I pulled out some investments. Isaiah knows, and he’s cool with it. But, well, we both know rentals don’t come up often here, and you don’t really want to be living with your parents, so… welcome home.”
I blinked, and my dad went blurry. The recent roar of the Gulf rushed through my ears, and I shook my head. “You bought me a house?”
“Went and got your stuff out of that storage unit in Denver the other day, too. So, it’s all here. Obviously, you’ll need furniture and whatnot, but…”
“You bought me a house.”
Dad headed toward the kitchen like I hadn’t spoken. It probably should have been obvious, but it was taking me a minute to catch up.
“Had cleaners come too, just to make sure it’s clean for you.”
“Dad!”
He peeked his head around the kitchen. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Tears were making everything blurry and soaking my cheeks. But was he serious?
“You bought me a house.”
“Well.” He shrugged. “Yeah. You don’t like it?”
“Like it? I freaking love it and I haven’t even seen half of it, but this is insane!”
“Nothing insane about supporting your kids and helping them when you can, sweetheart. Wanna see the rest?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet.”
I ran to him instead and slammed into him. Hugged my dad and cried because my parents were the absolute best. He squeezed me back, let me cry into his chest, and held the back of my head with his large, warm hand. “Don’t know what happened here a few weeks back, but we know you ain’t been happy for a long while. You can talk to us, tell us anything, but if this makes you feel more settled and happier, then it was nothing for your mom and I to do this for you.”
“Why didn’t Mom come?” I asked, my voice muffled in the press of his flannel.
“Told her I didn’t need two women bawling. Couldn’t hold you both up.”
I snorted and then laughed and pulled back.
Dad was watching me carefully. “You wanna talk about what happened before you took off?”
“I think…” I stepped out of his hold and wiped my cheeks. I needed tissues in a bad way. “I think I decided to give up on one dream and chase another.”
He inspected me for a while before he nodded. “Wanna see the rest of the place now? Already know you’re gonna love the backyard.”
“If it’s anything like the inside, I know I will. Have I ever told you you’re the best dad in the history of the world?”
“Probably at least once or twice since you were five, but it never hurts to hear.”
I threaded my arm through one of his and dragged him into the kitchen. “Show me everything.”
A house.
A freaking house.
It was a small house, he was right. And there wasn’t anything overtly special or unique about it, but it was a house.
And according to my dad, it was mine.
Welcome home to New Haven, indeed.