Chapter 12 #2
The last thing Shannon expected for her day was to have lunch with Ava. The phone call and invitation had both been a surprise,
and before she realized what was happening, she’d found herself agreeing, which had been difficult enough, but now she had
to tell her mother.
Since the crying incident, she’d done her best to avoid Cindy except when they had to talk about work. As her mom hadn’t made
any effort to hang out with her, not getting personal was easy. Although she knew that at some point they had to get back
on the wedding planning, and yes, she really did need to come clean about the engagement, but there never seemed to be a good
time. Every situation felt fraught and uncomfortable and confusing.
She hovered outside of her mother’s office for at least twenty seconds before sucking in a breath and purposefully walking
in.
“Ava called me,” she said when her mom looked up from her computer. “She asked me to lunch. I didn’t mean to say yes, but you know that I can’t seem to stand up for myself very well, so it’s happening in about an hour. Want to come with me?”
Cindy stared at her wide-eyed. “Ava called? Why? What did she want?”
“I guess to invite me to lunch. I don’t want to go. I barely know her, and I’m worried about what she’s going to ask me. It’s
all so strange. That she was going to adopt me and that you kept me. I’m glad you’re my mom and my life is what it is.” At
least, except for her inability to figure out her future. But even with that weighing on her, she certainly didn’t want to
have been raised by someone else.
“Should I cancel?”
Cindy drew in a breath, then offered a fake happy smile. “No, of course not. You should go. Ava’s a very interesting woman.
I’m sure she’s been caught up in the past like I have. She’ll want to get to know you a little. It’ll be fine. Really. It’s
all good.”
“You don’t mean any of that.”
“I mean all of it,” her mother lied. “Shannon, you were going to be Ava’s daughter. She loved you long before you were born.
I messed up. Oh, not in keeping you but in how I handled the situation. I hurt her very badly, which is on me. I understand
why she wants to spend time with you. She won’t say or do anything to make you feel badly. You should go.”
“Come with?” Shannon asked, her voice small.
“You’ll be fine.” She waved toward the door. “You should get going. You don’t want to be late.”
Shannon reluctantly walked back to her office. After collecting her bag, she went to her car and started the drive to Ava’s
exclusive, upscale neighborhood. She tried to distract herself by admiring the large houses and trying to pick the one she
liked best, but the rock in her stomach kept getting bigger and bigger until she couldn’t ignore the weight of the nerves.
Finally she pulled into the wide circular drive and parked.
“It’s just lunch,” she murmured as she walked up to the front door. “I can do lunch.” Later she would swing by Aaron’s work and get a hug to sustain her for the rest of the day.
Ava answered the door almost immediately, as if she’d been waiting. She offered a gracious smile.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she said, stepping back and waving Shannon inside. “I know my invitation was unexpected. To
be honest, I wasn’t planning on reaching out, but when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about us spending
a little time together. I appreciate you indulging me.”
“Of course.” She offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. “It was a quiet day at work, so it was easy for me to get away.”
“That makes me happy.”
They stared at each other for a second. Shannon had no idea what Ava was thinking, but she found herself comparing this woman
to her mother. They really did look alike—the similarities were surprising.
“You look so much like my mom,” she blurted. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude or anything. I guess I’d forgotten.”
“You look like her, too,” Ava said graciously. “Back when she was close to your age.”
“At least I know I’ll age well.”
“You will. Now, about lunch. I thought we’d eat in the sun room,” Ava said, turning and leading the way through the house.
“There’s a lovely view of the gardens.”
Shannon followed her, taking in the other woman’s tailored pants and silk blouse. Her shoes were probably designer, her jewelry
understated but substantial. Shannon was aware of her on-sale black pants and slightly oversize, thrifted blouse that had
a small tear by one of the buttons. She’d only noticed after she’d gotten to the office and had decided it didn’t really matter.
Only, next to Ava, she felt badly dressed and embarrassed.
They reached what she assumed must be the sun room. There were glass walls on three sides with huge windows. The ceiling was high, the doorways wide. Outside was a gorgeous formal English garden with box hedges and climbing roses. She also saw lavender, foxgloves and daisies.
A round table stood by the windows and was set for two. There were plates, glasses and teacups on saucers, and a green salad
at each place setting with a large charcuterie platter in the center. Shannon stared at the dainty, cut-up sandwiches, the
berries and what seemed to be four or five kinds of scones and petits fours.
“My mom and I make charcuterie boards,” she said, happy to see something so familiar on the table. “We always have. When I
was young, they were her way of getting rid of leftovers. It’s kind of our thing.”
Ava motioned for her to take a seat, then settled across from her. “I believe I’m the one who taught her about them,” she
said, offering tea, then pouring when Shannon nodded. “When she came over, we would put them together and hang out.”
She looked at Shannon and smiled. “I started making them when I was quite young. My father was a nibbler. They were a way
to get him to eat.”
Shannon tried to make sense of the information. It was difficult to comprehend that something she’d always thought of as her
and her mom’s special thing had, in fact, come from Ava. Growing up, none of the other moms had made charcuterie boards. It
had only been Cindy. And, apparently, Ava.
“I didn’t know,” she murmured, wondering what else Ava and Cindy had in common. Aside from her.
“Your house is lovely. Have you lived here long?”
“Milton and I bought it shortly after we were married. We talked about keeping the house I’d grown up in but decided we’d
rather get something we could make our own.” She smiled. “Memories are important, and we wanted to make them ours.”
“How nice.”
Shannon thought about how large the house was and how expensive the neighborhood.
How had Milton and Ava been able to afford such a grand place when they were still relatively young?
She remembered hearing Ava came from money, but even twenty-five years ago this place would have been several million dollars.
“The only problem with the house is that it’s time to do some remodeling.” Ava wrinkled her nose. “Not my favorite thing to
deal with. The kitchen is the most pressing of the projects. I’ve hired a designer and have her options. I just have to decide.”
She sighed. “There are just so many choices. Cabinets, placement, flooring, countertops.” She waved her hand. “Do you know
how many door-pull options there are? Literally hundreds. I’m overwhelmed, so I keep putting off making a decision.”
“I get it,” Shannon told her. “When my mom went to work for Luis and Gina, one of her jobs was staging the smaller houses.
It was cheaper for the seller to have us do it in-house rather than hire a professional. She would walk around to get ideas,
then figure out what to take out and what to add. I remember begging her not to take so long picking out throw pillows, but
she wouldn’t listen. Oh.” She stared at the other woman. “You should talk to my mom. I mean if it isn’t too awkward. She knows
about remodels and how to make a space classic yet contemporary. In the last few years, Luis has started flipping houses.
They’re all very upscale. My mom works with the designers and makes the final decisions on all the finishes.” Shannon paused.
“Unless you think talking to her about your kitchen would be too strange.”
Ava offered her a kind smile. “Thank you for suggesting that. I’d like to have someone to brainstorm with. I know it’s just
a kitchen and I should manage, but I don’t seem to be making any progress at all.”
Shannon wasn’t sure if that meant Ava would reach out to her mom or not, and considering how Cindy had reacted after their
last meeting, maybe it was better if she didn’t.
Ava moved the platter close to Shannon. “Please,” she said. “Help yourself. The sandwiches are homemade, but the scones and petits fours come from a wonderful bakery not far from here. They’re some of my favorites.”
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
Ava waved away the comment. “I didn’t. What we don’t eat I’ll take to work later.”
Shannon took a couple of the small sandwiches and some berries. “I’m not sure what you do,” she admitted. “Mom said something
about a foundation, but I don’t know what that means.”
“I run a private foundation. To keep our tax-exempt status, we’re required to give away a certain amount every year.” She
smiled. “So my job is to work with a team to figure out where the money should go. We focus on helping teenagers in need by
granting money to organizations who already have the infrastructure and experience to do the work. Rather than reinventing
the wheel, so to speak, we provide the funds to keep the wheel running.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Shannon said. “You spend your day making people’s lives better.”
“I’m very fortunate. I love what I do. While our mission statement is about teenagers, I also give a bit to animal causes
because I simply can’t help myself.”
Shannon had a feeling that Ava’s version of a bit wasn’t like the forty dollars she’d sent to a local animal shelter last Christmas.