2. 2
2
The house was silent as a cemetery. Oblivious birds chirped, fleeing from the empty feeder outside Ava’s home, casting avian-shaped shadows across the bleak shit show that was now her life. A south-bound flock of black-capped chickadees spattered a curved line of dung across the hood of her car, one which had not left the driveway in days.
There was no need. Where did she need to go? She was out of a job.
She had no purpose .
First, Daniel had quit on her. Then, her job of nearly eleven years tossed her to the curb, too. After losing the multi-million dollar Breckin Labs account, she was expeditiously dumped from the payroll and thrust back into the harsh world.
It was nearly a week later, and she had yet to motivate herself to get out of bed, save for the obligatory trudge to the bathroom. Crinkled cookie dough sleeves and empty ice cream tubs littered the floor of her disheveled bedroom .
With the blinds drawn, she closed her eyes, hoping some unseen force would come to take her out of this dumpster fire of her own making. Perhaps she could sleep it all away.
“Ava?!” a bellowing female’s voice sounded through the stillness.
Kuda leaped up beside Ava on the bed and stood over her, ferociously barking at the intruder, hackles up.
“Ava?!”
The voice had come from inside of her house.
“Who’s there?” she asked cautiously, sitting up from beneath the rumpled duvet covers. She scrambled and grabbed a spoon off the dresser, hoisting it into the air as if it would offer some semblance of protection. “Speak!”
“It’s fuckin’ Santa Claus . Who the hell do you think it is?” Madison said with an eye roll as all six feet of her strode through the cracked-open door casually. Her slender silhouette was barely visible in the darkened house, giving her unannounced presence an ominous feel. She looked like an angel of death, blonde and lanky, and for a split second, Ava hoped she’d come to put an end to this pathetic excuse of an existence once and for all.
Kuda quieted down. In full wiggle mode, he thrashed at the sight of Madison, jumping off the bed and running to her, nearly bowling her over with his muscular form.
Suddenly, the blinding overhead lights flicked on, LED ones Daniel had insisted on. The garish things were yet another painful reminder that he always got what he wanted.
“Gah!” Ava grunted, shielding her eyes from the light. The pale blue color of her walls now seemed far too bright. “Whyyyyy with the lights?”
“Jesus, Harla, you look like shit.”
“Yeah, well, you look like Slenderman’s illegitimate lovechild. And… stop callin’ me Harla. You know I hate that. No one even gets the reference anymore.” Ava flopped her face straight into her pillow with all the thrust she could muster.
“Why’s it gotta be illegitimate? That’s just unnecessarily hurtful,” Madison said, kicking a paper tub that once contained vanilla bean like a soccer ball at the wall. It hit with an audible thunk, and she screamed. “GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOALLLLLLL!”
“Madison! Stop! For the love of God!” Ava’s voice was muffled by the pillow.
“No way,” Madison continued on, completely unfazed by Ava’s protests, “now that you got your maiden name back, it’s on like Donkey Kong. ”
“I didn’t like it growing up, and I sure as hell don’t like it now. I feel like I should have ‘ The Price of a Bride ’ tattooed on my forehead above Fabio’s face when you call me that.”
“ Pfft , face tattoos are so 2005.” Madison riffled through the makeup and brushes on Ava’s vanity, leaned down to pet the needy pup following her through the room, and made her way over to the window.
“Why are you here?” Ava groaned.
Madison ripped the curtains open, suddenly whirling like a flaxen tornado of anger to glare at the mess that was Ava Quinn. “What the hell, Ava?! You scared the shit out of me! I’ve called your cell, like, ten thousand times. No text. No call back. No email. Nothing!” Her expression was etched with fury. “I thought Will had your body parts shoved in his trunk or something! You can’t do that to me. I was really worried!”
Ava could tell by the sound of Madison’s shaky tone that she meant it. “I’m sorry.” She plucked a dried piece of marshmallow from her duvet, trying to recall how long she’d been in bed with the remnants of her Rocky Road. “I was… busy .”
“Wallowing in self-pitywith ice cream and a vibrator? Yeah, I’llbet that really made it impossible to use your phone for two seconds so that your best friend wasn’t freaking out .”
“I said I was sorry,” Ava muttered, knowing if the roles were reversed, she’d have been just as livid.
“So, I see that you are, in fact, in one piece and not in a well in someone’s basement, putting the lotion on its skin so it doesn’t get the hose again. That’s good.” She pulled a miniature-sized candy wrapper from the back of Ava’s hair and handed the thin plastic to her, scissored between two fingers. “You look like hell. You look like one of the bird turds on your car, all pale and shitty.”
“Maddy,” Ava chastened, talking down to her like an elementary teacher would a naughty child, “you’re saying mean stuff aloud again. That’s an inside thought. Remember, we talked about those?”
“Fuck your inside thoughts. This is me. In case you somehow forgot in your Snickers-laden stupor, I cuss. I talk shit. I’m a kick-ass friend and one hell of a lay, according to the middle men’s bathroom stall at O’Malley’s. If you don’t like me for what I am, then tell me to fuck off. Otherwise, suck it up. I happen to give a shit about my bestie when she falls off the face of the planet for a damn week.”
“You’re right.” Ava sighed. “Thank you for checking on me. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to deal with any of this. I needed some time. ”
“Fine. Have you had enough time? Cause I got some shit to talk about.” Madison folded her arms across her chest.
Ava nodded and sat up against her oak headboard, wincing as the frigid touch of the wood seeped through her thin, silk pajamas.
Madison waltzed over to the bed, whipped back the covers, and hopped in like an eager child. “So, officer sexy ,” she became animated with her hands, “you know, the maid? Will?”
“Yeah. What about him?” Ava asked, genuinely not having given him a second thought since he left her home. She’d been too preoccupied with being a train wreck the last couple of weeks.
“He asked about you when he came by to clean my baseboards the other day. Seemed worried about you. Said he knew you were under a lot of stress.”
“Cleaning baseboards? That’s a euphemism, right? I can’t seem to keep up with all the lingo these days.”
Madison laughed, “No. Not a euphemism. Some people clean their baseboards.” She looked around, making a face at the mess throughout the room. Finally, her eyes made it back to Ava’s. “The dude’s a good listener. A while back, he helped me through all my shit with Mark. Maybe he could do the same for you. He’s like a therapist and a maid. Worst case scenario, he could make some organizational sense out of all of,” Madison motioned to the whole room, “ this .”
“Seriously?” Ava self-consciously tucked a matted mess of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t a joke . In the last few months, I’ve lost my marriage and my career. If there was a person who has earned the right to a nervous-fucking-breakdown, it’s me.”
“Huh, funny. My invite to the pity party must have gotten lost in the mail.” Madison shook her head and moved to the edge of the bed, wrapping her hand around something sticky on the frame. “Ewwwww.” Her eyes drifted down to the comforter, one with an ornate design of gold satin flourishes stitched across a sea of blue. “When was the last time you washed this?”
Ava gestured to herself. “Hygiene has not been a priority as of late.” She wiggled down into the covers and pulled them over her head, growling through the thick fabric. “I love you, Maddy, but now is not the time for your particular brand of tough love. Now is a time for Cherry Garcia, heavy sobbing, and tragic black-and-white romances. So, if you don’t mind,” Ava flicked her hand as if to shoo Madison out the door.
Madison’s shoulders drooped. She hated seeing her friend’s life in turmoil. She felt powerless, having unloaded the only weapon in her arsenal: abrasive but genuine love.
“Fine. If you want to wallow, whatever.” Madison stormed out of the room.
Ava waited to hear the bedroom door slam behind her, but the sound never came. Instead, she heard the soft peel of a breached seal followed by the sound of cardboard slapping onto the counter. Drawers opened and closed. Metal clinked. If Ava had any grit left, she would have gone to investigate. However, the greedy grip of her bed kept her rooted snugly in place.
Moments later, Madison reappeared, and Ava peeled back the covers to her nose. Her friend held a pint of ice cream with two half-buried spoons.
Without warning, Madison flopped herself into bed, cracking her noggin hard against the wooden headboard. She hissed in pain.
A laugh bubbled out of Ava, her first in days.
“Yeah, sure, find amusement in my pain.” Madison grimaced comically. “You’re sick .”
“You okay? That sounded like it hurt.”
“Don’t. Just… don’t.” Madison held up a flat hand to Ava’s face, “Now, where’s the remote?”
Kuda jumped onto the bed and crawled toward them, scratching his belly across the duvet, hind legs limp. His chocolate-brown eyes glanced between both women and the frozen tub full of creamy dessert.
Ava searched the folds in the fabric, snatched the remote, and handed it to Madison. She navigated into one of the streaming apps on the flat screen.
“We don’t have to talk. But you need to know I’m here, and I need to know you’re safe. So just tell me what you wanna watch.”
Silence .
“How about Casablanca ?” Ava batted her eyelashes wildly like a hopeful child. Kuda whimpered and licked his lips in anticipation.
Madison found herself staring over at two sets of pleading eyes and scoffed. “Ugh, you and your old fart black-and-white movies. Fine . Whatever.”
Ava laid her head on Madison’s shoulder and sighed. “Thank you.”
Madison leaned away and craned her neck to look at Ava. “You know you smell like hot dogs and ass, right? When was the last time you showered?”