Chapter Twenty-Five
After Terence left, Avila couldn’t sleep. Keeping her foot elevated was a necessity, but sleeping on her back was tough. From
her spot on the couch, she could see straight into her mother’s room. She could almost see Coraline’s frame coming through
the door, a rosary threaded between her fingers.
Avila threw off the quilt and gathered her crutches, pulling herself upright. The living room lamp turned on with a click,
and she navigated the maze of furniture. When she made it to the doorway, she saw the letter from her father lying on the
bed, where Terence had left it. She stopped, balancing on one foot and the crutches.
She should’ve been told about the letter long ago. Yet again, her mother was trying her best to be a good parent in light
of the situation. Avila remembered all the times she lay in bed, listening to the wind whistling against the windows and wondering
if it would bring her father back to her. She waited and hoped that God would bring her father home every single night. But
God never answered her.
And all that time, her father’s letter lay in the next room. Maybe it would have closed the door on Avila’s dream of his return. A closed door was better than a false hope. She had learned that lesson well.
Avila wondered if Terence thought she was a coward for not reading the letter. The thought hurt. Maybe she was a coward. It was only a letter, words on paper. How could it hurt her now?
Avila was many things, but a coward was not one of them. She crossed the space in one clumsy movement and snatched the letter
from the quilt. Tucking it under her arm, she pulled the door shut and returned to the couch.
Her foot ached from all the motion, so she propped it on the coffee table and leaned back. The envelope was well worn, like
it had been opened and its contents read hundreds of times, although she couldn’t imagine her mother lingering over it like
a lovesick fool.
Before she could stop herself, she pulled up the flap and slid out the sheet of notebook paper. Her father’s neat penmanship
slanted across the page. Avila’s eyes devoured the words.
Coraline,
I’m sorry I left you the way I did. I knew you would try to convince me again to go to counseling for my gambling habit, and
I truly don’t believe that could ever work. I’m restless. I’ve always been restless. And I need to work this out on my own.
When we married, I thought we could build a good life together. I have tried my best, but I now know that marrying you wasn’t fair to either of us. You can keep the house, that is, if you’re able to catch up on the past due mortgage payments. I’m so sorry. I will file for divorce as soon as I have the money. I have a few more gambling debts to settle. Once I do, that divorce will be filed. I promise.
I’m sorry.
John
Avila scanned the words again. She looked for her name, or some mention of her, but didn’t find it. The hollow place inside
of her swelled and swallowed her whole. Her father never mentioned her. Not even once.
And what was that about having to pay off gambling debts in order to file for a divorce? The way Ms. Mable spoke the other
day, her father was up to his eyeballs in debt. If that was true, how would he ever file for a divorce? Avila made a mental
note to ask Ms. Mable about that.
Her mother had kept this letter all this time. A part of her wanted to be mad at her mother about that, especially given that
her mother had barely talked about him after he left. The other part of Avila understood that it would be hard for her mother
to discuss him. In many ways, she could empathize with that as well. Michael was far from being like her father, but it had
been hard to discuss him with Ebony. Avila had been so used to it being just the two of them that she wondered whether having
Terence in their lives as a permanent fixture would break up the tenuous bond that they held. So far, it hadn’t been that
way. In fact, it seemed like the three of them were bonding.
Avila glanced at the letter from her father again. A part of her still wished that he would’ve acknowledged her in this letter. What about the child he abandoned so that he could follow his dreams of casino riches? What about the kid who sat on the front porch, watching for his return weeks after he left? What about the girl who cried alone in the darkness of her closet, hoping and praying that he’d return?
Avila’s hands shook. She was angry. She folded the letter and ripped it in half, then ripped it again, and again, for good
measure, until all that was left was bits of paper.
Many nights she had lain in bed wondering if her father was out there somewhere, aching for the daughter he had left. Avila
had imagined his guilt and regret. She imagined him showing up on her doorstep someday, full of apologies.
In one quick gesture, Avila swept the pieces of paper off her lap. She felt rejected all over again. She thought her dad didn’t
have the power to hurt her anymore. That he had already done all the damage one father could do. She was wrong.
Avila awakened to a knock on the door. Her eyes were heavy, and the sun shining through the curtains stung her. She set her
foot down and realized the aspirin had worn off sometime after she fell asleep.
“Ebony,” she called. “The door.”
“Take your time,” Terence called from the porch. “It’s just me.”
By the time Ebony padded through the living room, Avila had rubbed the sleep from her eyes. A yawn threatened, but she stifled
it.
Ebony unlocked the door and swung it open.
“Breakfast is served,” said Terence. He balanced a white box on his palm like a server with a tray.
“Donuts!” Ebony clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet.
“Good morning, ladies.” He set the box on the coffee table.
Terence’s presence warmed Avila from the inside out. “Good morning.” She knew she was a mess. She hadn’t fallen asleep until way after midnight.
“I have a plan for today. We’ll have breakfast. I’ll work on the house for a bit, and then I’ll drop Ebony off for rehearsal
and return to continue working on the house. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Avila said.
“Ebony, can you get the paper plates and napkins?” Terence asked.
“Sure.” Avila watched her daughter run to do his bidding, wishing Ebony were so compliant for her.
Her ankle hurt. She set her foot on the table and reached for the bottle of aspirin.
After feasting on donuts, Avila showered as best she could on one leg, while Ebony and Terence piled the living room furniture
into the kitchen. By the time she was dressed, Terence was sweeping the wood floor in preparation for putting the finish on
it, and she remembered her father’s letter. Avila looked at the center of the living room, now bare. The bits of paper were
gone, and she wondered what Terence had thought when he saw them. It didn’t really matter. She had a right to her anger.
Determined not to let her father ruin the day, Avila decided to put the letter behind her. With a fresh perspective, she surveyed
the room. Now that the rugs and the furniture were gone, she saw the stains. Her heart sank at the sight.
“Don’t worry,” Terence said. “I refinished the floors when I moved into my mom and dad’s, so I know how to get those out.
They look like surface stains. Are you sure you don’t want me to help with that? If I run out of time, I can always finish
it after you leave.”
“And have you working even more during your so-called vacation? I don’t think so.”
Terence insisted she sit in the sun while he worked. “It’s going to get hot and dusty in here,” he explained. “Anyway, you
could use some fresh air.”
He brought her a fresh bandage and an ice pack, and she wrapped her ankle and set the bag on it. The aspirin had kicked in,
and, for the first time since the injury, her ankle didn’t hurt.
Since Ebony couldn’t help with the floor, Avila practiced lines with Ebony. They went over the first two scenes in The Piano Lesson . Then Ebony practiced a monologue. Her acting was beautiful.
After a few hours, Terence and Ebony left for the theater. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes,” Terence said.
“Not a problem. I won’t be going anywhere, obviously.” Avila smiled.
By the time they left, it was early afternoon. She leaned back in the couch, listening to the radio. Could she get used to
this? Could she get accustomed to Lowcountry living again? It was peaceful here. That was for certain.
Thirty minutes later, Terence returned and set the keys to the house on the coffee table. “Ebony’s at rehearsal. She seemed
so excited. I’m truly happy for her.”
“Me too.”
A pause. “Do you want me to take you outside again for a short while?” The door squeaked as Terence closed the front door.
He handed her a glass of soda, and the ice clinked in the glass as she took it.
“I’m good.”
Terence sank into the chair beside the couch. “I hope to start varnishing this afternoon. Sorry that I couldn’t get it done faster.”
“You hardly owe me an apology. Anyway, I think I’ll be able to help tomorrow, so we’ll get back on track.” She could feel
his gaze on her.
“Don’t rush it,” he advised.
“It hurts less now. And I can put my weight on it.”
He stared at her. “Avila.”
She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I’ll take breaks.” She pinned him with a look and didn’t let up.
He understood that she wasn’t backing down. “You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known.”
She scoffed and lifted an eyebrow. “I prefer to call it ‘determined.’”
“Most stubborn people do. And don’t forget, I taught you to drive.”
Avila shrugged. “What’s that got to do with anything?” She lifted the soda to her lips and let the fizzy liquid glide down
her throat.
“Do the words ‘stick shift’ ring a bell?”
A smile threatened. Her mother wouldn’t let her use her car, so Terence’s mom let Terence teach Avila to drive in her old,
beat-up car.
“Okay. I learned to drive a stick shift.”
Avila relaxed into her couch, listening to the buzz of the overhead lights, the gentle breeze that wafted through the half-open
windows, and the rustle of tree branches against the windowpane.
“Listen to that. It’s so peaceful,” Terence said.
She closed her eyes and let her ears do all the work. To her, the sound was comforting. It had lulled her to sleep many a night when everything else was so frightening.
“You love it here, don’t you?”
“I really do,” he said.
She remembered loving this place before her dad left. But things had happened that tainted this place, coloring it a gloomy
shade of gray, although she had to admit the shadows had lifted a bit recently.
The cushion on Terence’s chair crinkled as he shifted. “I have good memories here.”
The irony struck her that although they had grown up two doors apart during the same time period, their childhoods were polar
opposites. She laughed.
“Come on, they weren’t all that bad,” he said. She could tell he turned toward her by the sound of his voice. “Remember the
wooden box we buried? The one where you wanted to save things for your future Lowcountry wedding? It took you five weeks to
decide what should be in it. If it had been up to me, I would’ve taken five minutes.”
Avila opened her eyes and turned toward him. She hadn’t realized they were so close together. “I remember.”
They dug the box up the summer they graduated and laughed at the items she had selected: blue ribbon to wrap her future bouquet,
two candlesticks for their table at the wedding reception, a scented potpourri bag, and a friendship bracelet Terence had
made for her. She was going to wear that bracelet with her wedding dress, regardless of whom she married. She wondered what
they had done with those things. So much time had passed that she couldn’t remember.
The light from the living room window lit Terence’s face, and the shadow settled into the cleft of his chin. “I remember when I found that gold ring and insisted that we include it in the box,” he said.
That was before her father left, before all the good had been sucked from her life. Terence had said that he found the ring
on the sidewalk, and he had asked around to see if anyone would claim it. No one did, so he thought of it as a serendipitous
gift. “I still think you should’ve pawned it or sold it on eBay.”
His lips twitched. “Nah. Best to be kept. See? There were many good things that happened here too.”
“Okay, okay, I get your point.” She studied Terence’s face. He was at the center of every good memory of this place. His presence
brought her joy and peace. Maybe that’s why her life had been so empty since she had left Charleston. Maybe Terence was the
healing that would quench her loneliness. She let the thought wash over her the way Terence’s gaze washed over her now. In
the depths of his eyes was a fabulous pool of emotion. In the strength of his arms was stability. In the depths of his soul
was a steadiness she longed for.
His eyes flickered down to her lips. “Avila,” he whispered.
The sound of her name on his lips ignited a yearning in her. A yearning for comfort. For joy. For love. She wanted to surrender
to this aching desire. Ebony wasn’t here.
His lips begged to be touched. She leaned toward him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. His fingers held her chin as they
closed the gap. His breath was the softest whisper on her skin. As her eyes fluttered closed, she felt the warmth of his lips.
Her palm closed around the roughness of his jawline.
He deepened the kiss, and she arched closer, cursing the arm of the couch that dug into her ribs, separating them. It was the way a kiss should be, stopping time, stealing breath.
He drew back, and a whimper left her throat. But he was on his knees in front of her before she could say a word. He grabbed
her waist and pulled her into him. He framed her face with his gentle hands and kissed her again. Her hands went around his
back.
His mouth was patient on hers. “Avila,” Terence whispered against her lips.
Avila clutched at his shoulders, wanting to be closer. She wasn’t sure she would be close enough even then.
His fingers touched her hair, sending shivers down her spine. “Avila.” His hands, his lips, a breath away. “I love you so
much.”
Terence’s lips were on hers again, and she let his words sink in and fill the hole inside her. I love you too, Terence . It was true. She not only loved him now; she loved him long before she ever left. It was why she hated him for getting engaged
and married to someone else. Why she told herself she didn’t care that he had tied the knot. Why she felt the need to not
get in touch with him after she got the news of his wedding. It was apparent in the way she responded to him and the way she
carried him with her for the past decade. Yes, there was the shame in getting pregnant, but it wasn’t all about that either.
It had a lot to do with Terence. She wondered why she hadn’t seen it until now.
Avila clung to him, feeling his love and the gentle passion of his kiss. Although she loved him, she hadn’t said the words
to him. She had never said them to any man. They worked their way up, ready to roll off her tongue, but her throat closed
up, tightening around her voice, like an invisible suffocating force.
Why couldn’t she say it? Because telling him would be foolish.
The thought was an unwelcome intruder. She wanted to push the door closed on it, but it came from deep inside.
Terence loved her, but her father loved her too. Yet her father left.
Avila’s lips moved against Terence’s, and she struggled to draw in air.
Her emotions battled back and forth. She wanted to win this time. She could trust Terence. She could. She leaned into him
and grasped his shirt, kneading it up in her fist.
Terence was married once. He wasn’t going to commit his life to another person again. There was no way of telling. He could
change his mind. He had been helping her out here. He loved Avila. He still loved her. Still, she doubted.
When she was alone, just her and Ebony, she wasn’t afraid. Alone, she could control the outcome of her life. Alone, she was
empowered, strong, capable. With Terence, she felt weak and afraid. Helpless.
She couldn’t count on anyone to protect her, especially after what had happened to her.
The shock of her father’s abandonment never left her. It burned in every cell of her body. Needing someone was a bad thing.
Why had she forgotten?
Avila placed her hands on Terence’s shoulders and pushed, giving herself space to breathe. Her heart threatened to break through
her ribs. She felt like she was in the dark closet, alone and reaching for some elusive divine help.
“Avila?” His eyes burned into hers, a cocktail of emotion: confusion, hurt, fear.
She looked away, gripping the arms of the couch with trem bling fingers. Her breath came in quick gasps. She pressed her back to the couch.
“Avila, talk to me.” He placed his hand over hers.
She wondered how she could hurt him. Just say it. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t.”
He touched her cheek gently with his fingertips. “Just say it. Whatever it is.”
She gripped the wooden arm of the couch, feeling the rough edges dig into her palm. “I can’t do this.” Her eyes begged. “I
just can’t.”
He looked at her. “What are you so afraid of?” It was like he could see into her soul. He could. And yet he still loved her.
She didn’t deserve him. No one knew it better than she. Terence knew it too. Avila and Terence didn’t have to be in a relationship.
Actually, being in a relationship was too huge of a risk.
Worry bloomed inside her like an expanding bubble. She feared it would burst any moment. “I need some time to myself now.”
She jerked her hand from under his and started to rise. There was all the room she needed to stand and squeeze past him. “I’ll
walk you to the door. You don’t have to pick up Ebony and bring her back home. I’ll call the theater and see if someone there
can get her a ride home.”
Avila didn’t stop to grab her crutches from the wall. Instead, she limped toward the door.
“Wait, Avila.”
She wanted to hide from the world. She longed to fall into the couch and pull the quilt over her head. She wanted to go to
sleep and forget everything. She wanted to seal up the leaks in her heart that had allowed Terence to gain entrance.
Her sore ankle slowed her. Terence reached her as she grabbed the doorknob. He laid his palm flat against the door, preventing it from opening.
She jerked the knob, but the door didn’t budge. Her desperation mounted. “This isn’t going to work out between us, Terence.”
He placed his other hand against the door, over her shoulder. “You have to believe in us. I do.”
She could feel the heat of his body against her back. She whipped around. “It won’t work. I know it.” Her chest felt squeezed.
“Why do you push me away?” His tone was gruff.
Because loving you is too scary. Why can’t you understand that? She planted her palms on his chest and pushed. He was like a fortress, solid and immovable.
“Talk to me.”
“I can’t right now.” Even if she would have before, she was too discombobulated.
“Can you try? Please?” he asked.
Terence was asking. He was asking in that kind, gentle way that he always asked. She leaned into the door, looking at him,
her chest rising with each labored breath.
There was a determination in his eyes she had never seen before. She had always talked him into doing things her way, from
riding on his handlebars to playing Scrabble. But the look on his face told her he wasn’t giving in this time.
“Are you worried about the future? About your life in New Jersey and mine here?”
She refused to answer.
“We can work it out, Avila. It’s only logistics.”
Location was the least of her worries. She felt like this was too great of a risk. She couldn’t take this great emotional risk again. “My ankle hurts,” she lied.
“Let’s sit down.”
Avila dragged her fingers through the hair at her temples and closed her aching eyes. Go away.
“I’ll leave if you ask me to, but I really want to stay and talk this out,” he said.
Could he read her stinking mind now? She opened her eyes and narrowed them. His face softened, and he tucked her hair behind
her ear. She stiffened at his touch. “I just want to love you,” he whispered.
Look away. Close your heart. Don’t listen. A lump formed in her throat, where her own declaration had stuck earlier. How close she came to crossing that line. Even
without having said it, she feared he knew.
“I’ve loved you for so long.” His low voice rumbled through the still air. “Remember when I kissed you that night for the
first time? You stole my heart then.”
She closed her eyes, but his soothing voice still took hold of her.
“And you know what, Avila? I think you loved me then too.”
“No,” she said.
He touched her hair, following it down to the ends. “You hide your heart from everyone else, but I see you.”
“You don’t know anything.” If he did, he wouldn’t be standing here now.
He wouldn’t be standing here now. The thought intruded in her brain. Maybe he needed to know the truth. Maybe then he would
see who she was. That she was ugly inside, not worthy of his love.
“I love you. Nothing’s going to change that.” Terence’s finger grazed the nape of her neck, and her knees trembled. “Let me love you.”
She felt the warmth of his breath, then the softness of his lips. His touch was as gentle as a soft rain and shook her to
the core of her being.
She drove her palms into his shoulder and pushed him away. He called her stubborn, but Avila knew he wouldn’t let her go this
time. Not unless she made him.
“I decided what I want to do... about moving forward.” The words were a metal brush grating across her skin. The worry
that built in her settled in a cloud of stoic numbness.
“What?” His arms were at his sides now, his lips still swollen from hers.
Avila closed the door of her heart up tight, locking it. “I plan to stay in New Jersey. We can travel here to spend time with
you. And you’re always welcome to visit us whenever you’re able.” Her mind glazed over, the words flowed from her lips, but
it was as if a part of her wasn’t even speaking them.
“What? So you don’t want to stay here?”
“No.”
“I thought we had something between us. Why would you do this?”
Because I’m afraid to love you.
The disappointment in Terence’s voice pressed on her heart. “It’s complicated, but I do want you in my life. It’s just that
New Jersey is best for us.” Avila was determined to prove to herself that her feelings for Terence were fleeting, that she
wasn’t in love with him. She needed to guard her heart, and this was the best way to do so.
She was vaguely aware of Terence stiffening, but she continued. The details of their relationship sounded blurry at this point, but she kept talking and talking until she had gotten it all out of her system.
Terence’s voice was quiet and deep. “So this is how it’s going to be? Even with the fact that your mother left you more than
enough money to cover Ebony’s education anywhere.” She heard the disappointment and hurt in his words, but her numbness deadened
her to its effects.
“Yes. This is the best. I know that it’s the best for the two of us.”
He was quiet, and the silence that was between them saddened her, but she had to learn how to settle in it. This was the only
way that she’d be able to move forward.