Chapter 9 #2
Once they were seated, Ava glanced to the side of the room and nodded.
Seconds later two servers walked toward them.
One had a tray of filled champagne glasses while the other offered a selection of canapés.
Shannon took a glass and waved off the food.
Holding the champagne gave her something to do with her hands.
She wasn’t planning on sipping the drink, and she sure wasn’t ready to try to eat anything—not with nerves dancing in her belly.
Everything about this was so surreal, she thought, staring at the two servers and realizing that Ava either had staff to manage
the house or she’d hired them for the evening. Either way, it was so not charcuterie-boards-and-beer with Javiar and Aaron.
While her mom chatted with Ava, and Javiar talked with Victoria, Shannon continued to study the room. If the adoption had
gone through, this could have been her home, she thought in amazement. Her gaze slid to Milton. And he would have been her
father. She’d never had one in her life and had no idea how that would feel to her.
He looked up then and smiled at her. She ducked her head and looked away, feeling awkward and out of place. Why had her mom
agreed to this dinner? None of them belonged here. The past was done, and there was no going back. Only she knew that whatever
she was feeling was nothing when compared to what Ava and her mom were going through. Because for them, a single decision
had changed everything, altering their lives forever. And while the past couldn’t be undone, it had to be respected and, apparently
for this one night, dealt with.
As there were only eight of them for dinner, Ava had used the smaller, more intimate dining room.
The table seated ten, so there was plenty of room for everyone.
She’d wanted to use place cards so she could control who was where, but Milton had talked her out of it, pointing out they wanted a more casual atmosphere for the evening.
He’d taken the seat at the head of the table and she’d settled opposite him, leaving everyone else to find a place.
She’d put far too much thought into the menu, but now that the first course was being served, she found she couldn’t eat.
Her normally quiet stomach was a writhing mess, and she had a low-grade headache—both the consequence of how stressed she’d
been.
But she ignored the sensations in her body and focused on her guests—or rather she focused on Shannon and Cindy. No matter
how many times she told herself not to stare, she couldn’t help gazing at each of them in turn. Longing gripped her so intensely,
she could barely breathe. Longing for what could have been . . . under other circumstances. She had loved Shannon with her
whole heart. Had imagined their future together as a family, had made plans, had allowed herself to dream. In her head, she
understood Cindy had been feeling the same, and in the end, she’d been unable to walk away from her baby. But Ava had been
the one to pay the price.
She told herself to turn away. To ask Cindy’s handsome fiancé a question, or inquire if Javiar was enjoying the meal, but
she couldn’t distract herself. Cindy and Shannon looked like what they were—mother and daughter. They had the same blond hair,
the same blue eyes, the same smile. Ava knew there had to be characteristics from Shannon’s father in her face and body, but
they were hard to spot.
As for Cindy, well, she was an older version of the teen she’d been twenty-four years ago, meaning she still looked like Ava’s
younger sister. The three of them could have passed for family anywhere.
Just as painful was the silent communication between Cindy and Shannon.
Ava caught their shared looks as the soup was served, the faint nod or shake of the head that was all that was required to convey an answer to an unasked question.
There was an ease between them, a bond that most mothers and daughters shared.
She shifted her gaze to Victoria and held in a sigh.
The two of them had never had anything like that between them, she admitted.
And their connection had never been anyone’s definition of easy.
Now she wondered how much of that was simply a difference in personalities and how much of it was her fault.
“This is nice,” Milton said from his end of the table. “Thank you for joining us tonight.” He offered a kind smile. “I’m sure
by the time we’re eating the entrée, we’ll all feel less awkward.”
Several people chuckled.
Ava leaned toward Cindy. “Please, tell me about your life these days. You’re working?”
Cindy’s eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Of course I have a job. I work in real estate. Not selling, I’m the office manager.”
Luis, a tall, dark-haired man, smiled at Ava. “She keeps the business going. Without her, everything would fall apart.”
Cindy leaned briefly against him. “He’s being kind, but I do manage the details. I started working there about, what? Fifteen
years ago? I was support staff and worked my way up.”
“Gina and I knew you were special from the very first day,” Luis said.
“Gina is your . . .” Ava’s voice trailed off as Luis glanced first at Cindy, then at her.
“My late wife. She died of cancer five years ago.”
“She was wonderful,” Cindy added. “We met when I, well, I was having the most horrible day, and she was so kind. We got to
talking. The next thing I knew I was coming in for an interview. And that was it. We all became very close. Gina and Luis
have two sons, including Javiar. He and Shannon are like brother and sister.”
“Now we’re roommates,” Javiar added, winking at Shannon.
“She was your friend and now you’re engaged to . . .” Ava pressed her lips together, not sure how to ask the question without
sounding judgmental.
Victoria shot her a warning look. “Mom.”
“It’s an interesting situation,” Ava said faintly.
Luis smiled at her. “It is. Cindy and my wife were close. When Gina died, Cindy held us all together while we grieved. There
was nothing between us but friendship. Then about a year ago, she walked into my office and everything changed.”
“I know it’s not conventional,” Cindy said, flushing slightly. “But we weren’t involved before.”
“That sounds romantic,” Milton said firmly. “Congratulations.”
“Yes,” Ava added. “It’s nice to marry someone who is also your friend. Did you like the wedding venue?”
Cindy relaxed. “I did. It’s so beautiful.”
“With that ocean view.” Ava glanced at Milton. “It’s the place I was telling you about. For your sixtieth.”
“Whatever you choose will be perfect,” he told her. “You take such good care of me.”
“Oh, we won’t be using the main house on the property,” Cindy said quickly. “That’s far too big and, well, fancy. There’s
a smaller area with a walled-in garden.” Her tone turned wistful. “I’ve always wanted a garden wedding.”
“Was your first wedding a big event?”
Cindy stared at her. “I haven’t been married before.”
Ava blinked in surprise. “But it’s been twenty-four years. Surely you . . .” She let her voice trail off, not sure what to
say.
Cindy shrugged. “There just didn’t seem to be the time. At first I was struggling to take care of Shannon and my dad. Things
were difficult and I was—” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together, as if remembering who she was talking to.
“You know what it’s like to raise a child,” she said instead. “I wanted to be available for Shannon, so somehow I never bothered
to find anyone.”
“Or date,” Shannon said. “Mom was always there for me. Going to every school event, picking out my clothes, taking care of
everything.”
Ava ignored the clutch of pain. As much as she’d been devastated by Cindy changing her mind, she would never have wanted the other woman to suffer.
A thousand questions sprang to mind as she remembered Cindy and her father’s modest house and how money had been tight.
With no post-secondary education, no skills, she wouldn’t have qualified for much of a job.
Her father had been unable to work, and they’d been living off his disability and a small military pension.
Throw a baby into the mix and they would have been barely getting by.
She wanted to point out that she could have helped. They’d been friends, and Ava would have wanted to . . . Except none of
that was true. The core tenet of their friendship was Cindy giving up her baby. For that, Ava would have offered her the world.
When Cindy had changed her mind, there hadn’t been anything left between them. Overnight they’d gone from friends who pretended
to be sisters to strangers. Without the baby, there was nothing to hold them together.
“But now you have Luis,” Ava said, hoping her tone was gracious instead of filled with hurt. “And your garden wedding.” She
smiled. “I remember how you always liked to grow things.”
Cindy grinned. “Those strawberries.” She glanced around the table. “I had several plants that I was determined to keep alive.
I wanted fresh strawberries for my breakfast. But there were so many weeds, and I was huge and couldn’t really get down on
the ground to take care of them.”
Ava hung on to what she hoped was a safe memory. “I offered to help.”
Victoria stared at her. “You weeded a garden?”
“I did. On my hands and knees.” She smiled at the happy memory. “I made Cindy sit in the shade while I took care of things.
Only, I don’t have a lot of gardening experience, so I accidentally dug up the strawberry plants.”
She and Cindy smiled at each other.
“I felt horrible,” she added.
Cindy waved away her comment. “It was very funny. Ava was devastated and brought me fresh strawberries every day until she
and Milton went away on their . . .”
On their vacation, Ava finished silently. And while they were gone, Cindy’d had her baby and changed her mind.
The table went quiet. Cindy stared at her plate while Ava did her best to think of something to say. Milton glanced at Aaron.
“What do you do, Aaron?”