Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“ O w.” Ava flinched as she climbed into her mother’s car, her body still responding to her Usain Bolt impression across the parking lot.
Her mother clipped her seatbelt while Lucas’s Range Rover pulled up behind her, waiting for them to go.
“Would you like to tell me what’s going on and why you sprinted out of the therapy office like someone set fire to the building?”
“I might have offended Lucas, and I’m not sure how.” Ava explained what she’d said and the way he’d responded with an abrupt departure. “Out of nowhere, the nurse said he wasn’t feeling well and had to leave.”
“Did you consider that he might actually have fallen ill?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “He’s not sick.”
“Did you also consider the fact that even so, while you’ve been given some divine directive to find him, his earthly issues are none of your business, and if he wants to take a sick day—even in the middle of a therapy session—that’s his prerogative? ”
Martha put the car in drive and pulled out of her parking spot, Lucas following behind.
“I can’t just let him leave without resolving things,” Ava said. “ Why was I supposed to find him? That’s the piece of the puzzle I don’t yet know. All I can do is act on my gut feelings, and my gut told me to run after him.”
Ava chewed her lip, trying to figure out her next move.
“There’s something wrong,” she continued. “I can tell. And maybe it’s none of my business, but to figure out the why behind this, I have to see if he’ll talk to me. He used to.”
“He’s not a boy anymore, Ava.”
“I know. But I keep thinking there’s something more to our meeting than this.”
“Well, maybe he’ll lighten up once we get him to the cabin, and you can find out what upset him,” her mother said.
Ava eyed him in her side-view mirror. “Maybe.”
Lucas trailed them all the way home, where he pulled to a stop behind Martha. He got out and looked around the yard.
“This is really nice, Mrs. Barnes,” he said as Ava and her mother came around to his side of the car.
“Thank you,” Martha said. “It’s been a lovely place to relax, out here on my own.”
“I heard about Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry.”
Martha smiled. “Thanks. I sure do miss him.” She turned to Ava. “It’s wonderful having this lovely lady stay, though. She’s brought quite a bit of action to my quiet days.”
He smiled.
Ava stepped over to him. “Want to help me find Dad’s fishing poles in the shed?” She eyed Lucas’s nice trousers and button-up. “We don’t have to get the canoe out or anything. We can just fish from the deck.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea,” her mother said. “I’ll make you two a plate of nibbles to take out while you fish. ”
“Please, Mrs. Barnes, don’t go to all that trouble. I’m not able to stay very long.”
“You just drove thirty minutes to get here,” Ava countered. “At least stay long enough to make it worth your trip. If we’re going to stand outside and fish for an hour or so, snacks might be nice.”
He looked unsure.
While her mother let herself into the house, Ava nodded toward the shed nestled in the woods that sat a little distance from the yard.
“Are your work shoes okay in that brush?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
She started walking, and Lucas followed. She clenched her fists to help manage the pain while they trekked through the vegetation. When they’d made it, she jiggled the latch to open the door, but it was stuck. Her sides ached trying to pry it open.
“Hang on,” Lucas said. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He fiddled with the latch. “It’s rusted. Stand over here.” He pointed to an old stump along the side of the brush.
Ava took a seat on it.
Lucas reared back and kicked the handle, jostling it loose. He flipped it up and opened the door, then fanned his palm toward it. “After you.”
Ava got up and went into the musty shed.
It was full of paint cans, yard tools, and bags of mulch.
Her old canoe sat covered in the corner.
She pushed past an extra piece of lattice leaning against the wall, rooting through her father’s old tools until she saw what she thought might be his fishing poles, still wrapped in paper from the move. She stopped, taking it all in.
This place held so much of her father. As the two of them stood among his things, she could almost feel him there. The familiar lump rose in her throat. She swallowed to clear it .
“Can you get two of those?” she asked Lucas. She pointed to the rods in the corner.
He reached around her, his face next to hers, and retrieved them. In an attempt to keep herself from tearing up, Ava focused on the supplies they needed. She grasped the handle of her dad’s tackle box.
They took the fishing gear out of the shed, and Ava latched the door behind them, allowing a sniffle.
Lucas seemed to notice her rise in emotion, sending glances her way as they walked to the house.
The last time she’d cried in front of him, they’d been fifteen.
Her eyes stung as she blinked to clear the emotion.
What was wrong with her these days? The accident had broken the tough, stoic spirit she’d always been so proud of.
After they carried the gear inside, Lucas leaned the poles against the wall in the kitchen, and Ava set the dusty box next to them while Martha moved around between the fridge and the counter.
Lucas’s gaze fluttered over to Ava, and she almost swore she saw that protective look in his eyes that she’d seen as a kid.
But he tensed and turned to the view through the double doors as if to avoid it.
“I didn’t know what you two were in the mood for,” her mother said, her gaze lingering on him, “so I have a few options. Ava, could you help me decide? Lucas, would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, juice, wine?”
“I’m fine right now, thank you.”
“Please. Get comfortable. Enjoy the view.” Her mom waggled a finger at the door.
Lucas let himself out onto the deck while Martha retrieved a block of cheddar from the fridge. Through the window, they watched him walk to the edge by the water and slip his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“We could do cheese and crackers with fruit, and I also have all the fixin’s for s’mores if we light the firepit—it’s cool enough today. Think he’s up for it?”
Ava peered out at him. “I don’t know.”
“I also have a bottle of zinfandel. It might go well with the sharpness of the cheddar, and the alcohol could relax you both. We could always make some coffee after.”
“I’ll be lucky if I can get him to stay long enough to cast a rod. Something’s definitely bothering him.”
Her mother handed her the box of crackers while she retrieved the cheese slicer from the drawer. “I’ll stay inside. He might be more candid without me there.”
“Thanks.”
When they’d finished preparing the tray of cheese, crackers, and grapes, Ava took it out to him. “My mom went a little overboard.” She set it down on the bistro table under the tree.
That heaviness she’d seen in the office was apparent now. He turned back toward the water.
Ava went into the kitchen once more. “I’ll need the wine.”
Her mother poured two glasses and slid them over. Ava returned to Lucas while Martha discreetly placed the rods and tackle box outside the door.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Lucas said.
“Yeah, I find it sucks the work ethic right out of you.” She handed him a glass.
The corner of his mouth lifted, his gaze remaining on the glistening water. He peered down at the wine, his brows pulling together in that adorable way of his. “I’m driving.”
“It’s just the one. You don’t have to finish it. And Mom is sure to fill you to the brim with food, so you’ll be okay.”
He offered a small smile then tipped the glass and took a drink.
She’d need to work him up to fishing—that much was clear. “Want to sit down? I could bring the cheese and crackers over by the firepit, and we can light a fire. ”
His lips parted, but he didn’t speak.
She gripped her glass and worked up her courage. “I don’t know if I said something to upset you, and it’s been half our lives since I’ve seen you, but the boy I knew didn’t run away from things that bothered him. Nothing scared you off.”
His lips tightened before he took another drink from his glass.
“Remember how you took on that copperhead in the woods when we were in eighth grade? I ran to the nearest tree, ready to spend the day up there, and you grabbed your dad’s shovel and chopped its head off. Still barbaric, if you ask me.”
A whisp of happiness fluttered through her when she got another tiny smile.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the same person I was then.” He turned away from the water.
“I’m not the same person either.”
He gave her a nod. “Need some help lighting the firepit?” he asked, evidently leaving the subject.
She’d let him for now.
“I somehow seem to get soot on me every time, so you better not ruin your shirt,” she said.
Lucas brought over the plate of cheese and crackers while Ava pulled off the wire topper and lit the fire with a pack of matches still there from when her mother had last lit it. The orange flame popped and caught hold of the logs.
She clapped the soot off her hands and rubbed them on her jeans for good measure as she sat down beside him. Lucas set the plate of snacks on the small table between them, then unbuttoned his pressed shirt sleeves and rolled them up.
“I never pegged you for a suit-wearing kind of guy when we were growing up. I always thought you’d do something outside. Be a farmer or a wildlife biologist. Or both.” She topped a cracker with cheese and took a bite .
By the minuscule flinch he seemed to have tried to hide, she’d hit a nerve. She hadn’t meant to.
“Like I said. Things changed.”
She took a drink from her glass, the cool crispness of the wine the perfect complement to the sunny day by the water. “What was North Carolina like?” She pushed the plate toward him.
“Different. We moved to a suburb, and all the kids wore shoes every day. Bizarre.”