Chapter 13 The Step
The Step
Owen glanced at Avery out of the corner of his eye when they came to a stop sign.
Avery couldn't sit still. He shifted around with anticipatory excitement, each movement rippling across the old vinyl seats.
Owen turned off the highway and down the dirt road to the summer camp that would be Avery's home for the next two weeks.
“Alright, bud. Got everything you need?”
“Yup.”
“Don’t forget to wear your sunscreen when you’re swimming. And if you’re kayaking or canoeing, you need a life jacket.”
“Yeah, Dad, I know.”
“And listen to your camp counselors. Clean up after yourself in the cabin,” Owen reminded him.
“Uh-huh.”
“Call me if you need anything. You can call me anytime, day or night, OK?”
“I’ve been to camp before, you know.”
Owen could hear the eye roll in Avery’s voice. Some days he seemed thirteen instead of nine.
“I know, bud. Have lots of fun and call me, even if you don’t need anything. I still want to hear how things are going.”
“Okay. Anything else?” Avery’s exasperation was clear in his tone. He was ready to escape Owen’s line of questioning and join his friends.
Owen watched him a beat, his chest already aching at the thought of a silent house with Avery gone.
“Wear clean underwear. Alright, now that covers it. Let’s get you settled in.”
Given the green light, Avery jumped from the truck. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and ran to the registration table. Owen grabbed his own emergency bag to leave with the staff. Avery probably wouldn’t need any of it, but Owen was nothing if not cautious when it came to his son.
He checked in with the camp director, who assured him Avery would be fine and have fun, while accepting the emergency bag from Owen.
Avery spotted his friends already waiting outside the recreation center and waved to them.
Catching the hint he was about to be dismissed, Owen pulled Avery into a hug.
“I’ll miss you.” He ruffled Avery’s hair and squeezed him tight until Avery wiggled in his grasp to get away.
“Yeah, I’ll miss you, too. Bye Dad!”
Avery ran off to his friends without a second glance. His backpack bouncing on his shoulders from the movement. Owen pushed down his concern and walked back to the truck, trying to ignore the pit of loneliness in his stomach at the thought of Avery being away from home.
Even though it was his day off, Owen still found himself at the café to avoid the silence at home.
He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t also partially motivated by the prospect of seeing Ava.
She’d worked from the back corner table every day for the last week.
He’d gone ten years without seeing the woman, and now he couldn’t seem to escape her presence around town.
She’d made a habit of coming to the café to work for a few hours in the morning.
Sometimes she took calls, in which case she’d wear red lipstick that inspired inappropriate thoughts he had no business thinking.
Other days she worked casually, splitting her attention between work and humoring Avery, who would invite himself to sit with her and read his book, often reading aloud passages he thought were funny.
Except today.
What he’d come to think of as ‘her’ table sat empty.
No sign of her usual cold brew coffee cup or silver laptop with colorful stickers decorating the lid.
She’d let Avery add a couple of his own stickers to the collection, including a pair of loons and a magical broomstick.
He tried not to linger on how the simple act warmed his chest and reminded him of the carefree Ava from his childhood.
Feeling at a loss, Owen shut himself away in his office at the café to deal with the multitude of calls and emails about the renovation.
The Historical Society approved his first choice for a contractor, and the renovation would begin this week as soon as the roofing company finished installing the new roof.
A renovated interior wouldn’t matter if a leaky roof destroyed it.
He could hear the faint pounding of nail guns and hammering across the street even with his office door shut.
It’d be hard to keep his secret from Ava much longer.
She’d already asked him if he knew what was going on at the Agatha Building when she caught sight of the roofing company dropping off their materials over the weekend.
He didn’t exactly lie when he told her someone bought the building, he just didn’t disclose that the buyer was him.
A knock on the office door pulled Owen out of his review of the estimated cost of materials and the many zeros at the end of the dollar amount. “Come in,” he said.
He exited out of the email and leaned back in his chair. His shoulders relaxed from their hunched over posture and he rolled his head side to side to ease them even more.
His manager, Claire, pushed open the door and leaned against the frame with her arms crossed. “Pete and Harry are complaining about their table wobbling again. Said it’s getting worse. Will you go talk to them?”
Owen shook his head at their nonsense. He was pretty sure they were just looking for reasons to give him shit. The table wobble wasn’t that bad. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right out,” Owen said.
Claire shot him a smile and straightened from the door frame. “Thanks, boss man.”
Her braided red hair swung behind her as she turned to walk back to the counter, leaving the door open in her wake.
Owen locked the screen of his computer and made his way out to the dining area.
Pete and Harry sat at their usual table overlooking the lake.
A lacquered black cane rested against the window beside Pete.
He walked up to the pair and clapped Harry on the shoulder.
Today he wore an orange patterned tweed hat. “Heard you boys had some complaints.”
The two bearded men looked up at him, their coffee cups half full and a stack of playing cards spread out on the table mid-game.
“Damn right, I got a complaint. When are you going to fix the uneven legs on this table? About lost my cards when I pounded my fist,” Harry said.
Pete wiggled the table for added effect. The cards didn’t move a centimeter, but Pete raised his eyebrows like the movement was dramatic.
“Have you thought about not pounding your fist? That might help.”
“Did you come out here to fix this damn table or not?” Harry grabbed his coffee cup and took a drink, the movement making his beard twitch.
“Alright, alright, don’t get yourself worked up over it. How about I slide something under it for now, and I’ll run out to the hardware store. It’ll be good as new by the time you show up tomorrow.”
“Suppose that’ll be fine,” Pete said. His hand dropped to massage his bad knee under the table.
“How’s the knee, Pete? I see Betsy finally convinced you to use a cane.” Owen motioned toward the cane propped by him.
“You know how she is, always worried about something. You have one little fall and suddenly you’re incapable of walking, according to her,” he complained.
“And the doctor,” Harry added.
“Not you too, Harry,” Pete groused. He shook his head. “If she had her way, we’d be selling the bar and taking the camper down to Florida. Just can’t seem to find anyone interested in taking over.”
Harry nodded to Pete.
“I’m sure the right offer will come along,” Owen said.
Owen couldn’t picture the town’s only bar being run by anyone else, but the two of them were getting older. And like Ava’s dad, you never knew how much time you had left. He couldn’t deny that’s what inspired him to buy the Agatha Building when he did.
Pete gave him a hopeful look. One that Owen needed to nip in the bud immediately.
“That offer won’t come from me. I have enough businesses to run,” Owen said.
Both men grumbled but let it go. Owen didn’t need rumors swirling around town that he was trying to buy up all the businesses like a game of monopoly.
“I’m going to find something for the table leg and then head out. Unless you two need to bust my balls about anything else?”
Harry and Pete traded grins, and Owen immediately regretted his joke, knowing they were about to come up with something he wouldn’t like.
“Word around town is Ava’s been getting cozy here at the café and spending an awful lot of time with that son of yours. But I suppose that’s just town gossip,” Harry said. He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair.
Owen shifted his weight, unsure where Harry was going. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”
Harry laughed. “No question. Just an observation. Seems interesting she’d be here so much.”
Pete’s gaze darted between the two of them, his attention rapt. Owen held back an exasperated sigh.
“She’s here until August, but she still has work. You know what a cheapskate Gavin was; the internet is crap at the cabin. She comes here for the Wi-Fi, like everyone in town does.”
Harry nodded slowly, his eyebrows raised.
“Sure, sure. Well, take care of yourself while Avery’s at summer camp. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Harry winked at him and picked up his cards to resume their game.
“Everyone in this town needs a hobby,” Owen muttered, rubbing at his forehead. He gave them an unimpressed stare and left them to their game.
Harry and Pete chuckled as he walked away.
Owen drove his truck a few blocks down the road to the hardware store, keeping his promise to fix the wobbly table at the café.
Their complaints were bullshit, but he had the time with Avery away to take care of it.
He walked down the aisles to the adhesive section to grab some wood glue before continuing to the lumber section.
He scanned the options, looking for what he needed when someone rounded the corner of the aisle.
Ava walked toward him, her eyes glued to her phone. In one hand, she held a mallet and a pair of gloves. The sound of a video playing on her phone filled the aisle.
“Use a stair gauge to measure the step tread by—”