Chapter 31 #3
“Well, I don’t!” she cried. “Can you please just take me home?”
A second passed. Then another. “Yeah, sure.”
I checked her leg before closing the door.
The silent ride to the house nearly suffocated me. Ava waited in the passenger seat while I grabbed her crutches. She grimaced when she shimmied to the ground.
“You in pain?” I asked.
“Not really.”
I reached past her, dug the prescription oxycodone out of her plastic hospital bag to read the label. “Every six to eight hours.” I looked up at her. “How long ago did you take some?”
“Right before discharge.”
“Okay.” I counted the hours in my head. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
I bit back an annoyed sigh. “So, I can set an alarm for your next dose.”
“I can do it.”
“Then do it now. Seven o'clock, before you forget.” Why did she have to be so stubborn?
When she unlocked her screen, our text thread popped up, including an unsent message on her end that she quickly swiped away. I shoved that to the overworked muscles at the back of my jaw, and waited for her to set a timer.
“Happy?” she asked.
Not really. “Thank you.”
Was that why she got into an accident? Because she was on her phone? With me? I grabbed her stuff and followed her to the house, ready to catch her at every wobble. But she didn’t need me.
“We’re back,” I called to the quiet house, closing the door behind me.
Little thumps rounded the stairs. “Mama!” Nina appeared at the top, with a huge smile that dropped as soon as her eyes hit Ava’s orange cast.
“Hi, baby. I missed you!” Ava dumped her crutches and bent with arms open for a hug, which Nina fell into carefully. “I broke a bone, just like you, so I had to go to the doctor.”
Guess the truth was gonna come in small doses. If I got mine at all.
The hug lasted so long, I had to wonder if, somewhere in the whole ordeal, Ava thought she wasn’t coming home. A stab of guilt had me crossing to the kitchen. “Anyone hungry? I can make something.”
“It’s a broken leg,” Ava huffed. “I’m not an invalid.” She reclaimed her crutches and shuffled into the kitchen, dragging the extra weight of one little girl with her.
But I saw the strain on her face. “Let me help. Until you get used to your new legs.”
She ignored me, pulling things from the fridge, one ingredient at a time. I caught the mayonnaise jar when it almost fell from her grip. Picked up her crutch when it slid to the floor. Handed her a paper towel when the French's bottle exploded.
She took it all reluctantly. “I’ll have to figure out how to do this on my own, you know.”
“But not today.” She wouldn’t shut me out. There was something there, between us, worth fighting for. I leaned against the counter next to her as she cut a sandwich into quarters.
She dropped the butter knife with a clatter. “Do you have to be right there?”
“This is my kitchen. Where should I be instead?”
“Literally anywhere else.”
I moved closer. “Better?”
With a sharp inhale, she said, “Nina, take this to the table, please,” handing the kid a plate with four little sandwich squares.
I waited a beat. “Are you mad at me?”
“Look, I appreciate your help. But I’m not a stray that needs saving anymore.”
I frowned. “Who said you were a stray?”
“No one. But that’s how you’re making me feel.”
I studied the side of her face. Tried to read what she wasn’t saying. “I found a stray once, behind the grade school. Lured him home with a ham sandwich. Best dog I ever had.”
“You’re not helping.”
I crossed my arms. “What’s going on? Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not angry.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. I’m not angry with you,” she said.
“Then who are you angry at?”
She didn’t respond.
“Okay. Answer me this, then. It kinda feels like if it weren’t for the bright orange cast, you never would’ve told me what happened.”
“What am I answering?”
“Why didn’t you call me from the hospital?”
She glanced at Nina, then to the second plate on the counter, sporting a half-made sandwich. “Terry didn’t have your number. So, he called Bill.”
“You called Terry?” Why did it feel like a half-truth?
“It’s the only phone number I know by heart.”
“And he called Dad? That sounds like a stretch. How would Terry have his number?”
“They never delete anything in their system.”
Something wasn’t lining up. “So why didn’t Terry come?”
Her top teeth bit into her bottom lip as she decorated half a piece of bread with cheese and lettuce. “I didn’t tell him.”
I opened my mouth to ask why, then shut it. Nope, stay on track. “Okay, so when I had you on the phone, why wouldn’t you talk to me?”
“For the same reason I didn’t want Terry coming to the hospital.”
“Which was?” Pulling teeth had to be easier than this.
She shoved the top bread onto the bottom half of her sandwich. Mayo and mustard oozed out the sides. “Will the right answer make you stay?”
“Maybe.” A wrong answer, judging by her frown.
She pressed her palms into the counter, glanced at Nina again.
Then dropped her voice. “Eli, I was so tired, and overwhelmed, and … distracted that I drove into a commercial truck! I’m lucky I walked out alive.
Lucky nobody else got hurt!” Her eyes found mine, and they were full of pain. “I don’t need more. I need less.”
Guilt rose like battery acid up my throat. I held her stare even though it ripped me apart. “I’m guessing I’m the more?”
“I think you should stay. Here, on the ranch with your dad. But don’t stay for me.”
I nodded once. Then again, wanting not to believe her. But she’d confirmed what I already knew. I would’ve given my best socket set, hell, my whole damn truck, to go back to being ignorant. “I’ll be around. Call if you need anything.”
The spray of toothpaste mucked up my bathroom mirror, just like all my stupid fantasies.
Horseback rides and dinners together. Dancing under the stars in that dress.
I wasn’t helping her. I was making things worse.
Keeping her up late when she was already exhausted.
Sending her texts when she needed to focus on driving.
I’d never told her why I chose the road. Now she knew.
The only thing I had done since being on Dad’s stupid ranch was help build a paddock and get my hopes up. For what? This place had three horses, two boarders, and one sad excuse for a son. The best I could do was get out of everyone’s way.
I threw my hat on the floor as I snagged my duffel. If I couldn’t keep my promise to Mom, I didn’t deserve it anymore.