9. Avery #3
What next?
I have nothing structured to pull this together. No blazer, no fitted jacket. Just as I’m about to give up, my eyes land on the dark shawl draped over my chair. I grab it, running the fabric through my fingers.
It’ll have to do.
Moving to my dresser, I open the small jewelry box sitting in the corner. My fingers hover over a few trinkets before settling on a pair of pearl earrings. Simple. Classic. I put them on without a second thought.
Shoes.
Dropping to my knees, I rummage through the bottom of my wardrobe, shoving aside sneakers and flats that are completely wrong for the occasion. Finally, I find them—closed-toe black shoes, barely worn. They’re not the most comfortable, but today isn’t about comfort.
I slip into the dress, fasten the buttons on the blouse, and drape the shawl over my shoulders. Then I move to the mirror, twisting my hair into a low bun, and securing it as neatly as possible. A few loose strands escape, but it’s fine. This isn’t about perfection.
Stepping back, I give myself a once-over in the reflection. The outfit is far from ideal, but considering the circumstances?
Not bad for an improvisation, Avery. Not bad.
I head back into Maddie’s room. She’s sitting on the bed, waiting patiently, her little fingers tapping at her phone. Her other hand turns her wrist back and forth as she inspects the smartwatch she somehow managed to pair with her phone. Clever kid.
Beside her, a framed photograph rests on the comforter. Maddie and her mom.
I pause, glancing at it. Nicole and Maddie caught mid-laugh, wind in their hair, Nicole’s arm wrapped around her daughter.
They look happy. Carefree. It’s the first time I’ve seen a picture of Nicole, and I take a second to study her. She was beautiful, with the same warm eyes as Maddie.
Maddie follows my gaze and touches the edge of the frame, smoothing a thumb over the glass. “I found it in my bag.”
I nod. “It’s a beautiful photo.”
She doesn’t say anything, just nods once, then sets it aside carefully, like it’s something precious. Which, of course, it is.
I clear my throat and take her hand. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”
She hesitates, glancing up at me. “But if I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t have to? Is that right?”
I sigh internally. I just knew it was too good to be true. Here we go.
“I think that one you’ll have to ask your Uncle Gray, not me. Come on.”
We make our way downstairs. Gray and Beth are already waiting, the front door open, a black limo idling outside. The weight in the air is suffocating. Gray glances at Maddie, giving her an appraising look.
“Hmm. Very nice.”
I look down at Maddie. Well, this should be interesting.
“Go on,” I urge her, nudging her lightly. “Ask your Uncle Gray.”
Typically, Gray’s already in a foul mood. His eyes flick to Maddie. “Ask me what?”
Maddie’s lip quivers. For a second, it looks like she might actually go through with it, but then she swallows hard and says nothing.
Gray exhales. “Right then. Let’s go.”
The funeral is a haze of muted grief, murmured condolences, and the suffocating scent of fresh lilies. The burial is worse. Maddie stands stiffly at my side, her tiny hand clutched in mine. She doesn’t cry, but she stares at the casket like she’s trying to will it to open.
Then, back at the estate, the reception unfolds in quiet murmurs and subdued conversation.
About twenty people linger, some sitting stiffly on the furniture, others standing with glasses of wine or whiskey in their hands.
Waiters weave through the room, trays of canapés balanced expertly, but most people only take them out of politeness.
The whole thing is awkward as hell. I can tell Gray doesn’t really know most of these people—Nicole’s friends, work colleagues, acquaintances, people she knew in passing but who apparently felt obligated to show up.
I’m happy my brother Jake is here to support Gray. I haven’t been able to talk to him much, but we can catch up another time. Gray seems really relieved to have him here by his side in a wave of so many strangers.
A woman with too much eyeliner and a drink already in hand laughs suddenly. “Oh my God, I remember when Nicole and I went with a load of friends on a girl's vacation to Ayia Napa in Cyprus a few years back. We met these two guys, and they took us out on this boat, and—”
Another one of Nicole’s friends nudges her hard in the ribs. The silence that follows is brutal.
The woman stammers, face paling. “I mean—”
Gray clears his throat, stepping in before the moment drowns in its own awkwardness. He looks over at my brother, “I remember when we were about fifteen. Nicole and my best friend Jake here,” he turns to me. “Your brother and I pulled off one of the greatest heists of the summer.”
I blink, caught off guard before he continues.
“We snuck into a sold-out, outdoor Red Hot Chili Peppers concert. The plan was flawless—blend into the crowd, keep our heads down, and grab a spot up front. We were ready to rock out all night.” He smirks, shaking his head.
“Only problem? We got caught within five minutes. Security wasn’t having it. ”
There’s a small ripple of amusement through the room. Jake looks down smiling and softly shakes his head at the memory.
Maddie, who’s been silent this whole time, speaks up, her voice quiet but curious. “And what happened Uncle Gray?”
Gray actually smiles, a rare sight. “Good question. Security threatened to call the cops, and we ran like hell. But your mom? She never gave up. A few hours later, she dragged us back, convinced we could sneak in again.”
Maddie leans in, eyes wide. “Did you?”
“We did.” Gray huffs a short laugh. “Only to hear the last couple of seconds of the final song.”
There’s a muffled laugh from a few guests, a small crack in the heavy atmosphere.
Then, out of nowhere, Maddie shifts. Her voice is hesitant and uncertain. “I remember... one time, we went for a picnic. Just me and Mom.”
I glance at her, surprised she’s speaking at all. The room falls even quieter, the kind of hush that feels fragile, like one wrong breath could break it.
Maddie swallows, gripping the hem of her dress. “It was this big field. Silver Ridge. We had a picnic, and when we finished, we packed up and went to find the car, but Mom... she couldn’t find it anywhere.”
Someone exhales softly, the sound barely audible in the thick silence.
Maddie doesn’t look up. “She started panicking. She was so sure where she’d parked it, but it wasn’t there.
We walked around forever. My feet hurt. I told her I was tired, but she just kept going, looking and looking.
And then these really nice old people gave us a lift, and they drove us all around until we found it.
Mom said after that she never wanted to drive again. ”
I lean forward slightly. “And did she?”
Maddie nods, her lips pressing together. “Yes... but we never went back there for a picnic again.”
A few people laugh quietly, the sound light but real, cutting through the tension.
Gray exhales through his nose, shaking his head.
“Yeah, that sounds like my sister.” His voice is dry, but there’s something softer beneath it, something almost fond.
“Her sense of direction was so bad. If she was in a hotel and left her room, all it would take is one trip down to reception, then back upstairs, and she’d never find her way back to her own door. ”
More laughter, small but genuine, spreads through the room. It doesn’t last long, but for just a moment, the weight in the air shifts—just a fraction.
A few more people share stories about Nicole. Some are short, just quick memories, moments that make people smile. Others are longer, filled with little details that, for a brief time, make me feel like I actually knew her.
Eventually, as all things do, the reception winds down. People start slipping away, murmuring goodbyes, giving Gray awkward pats on the back, and offering Maddie sad, polite nods as they leave.
Jake gives us warm hugs and goodbyes, promising to get together soon for a nice long visit.
Finally, it’s just us.
I take Maddie upstairs to her room, helping her out of her dress and into something comfortable. She’s quiet; exhausted. I brush her hair back from her face, and she just leans into me for a moment. No words. Just warmth.
When we head back downstairs, Gray is waiting. He looks just as drained as Maddie, but his voice is steady. “I’ll take her into the library for dinner. Then I’ll put her to bed.”
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
His gaze flicks over me. “You can have the rest of the evening off.”
And with that, I’m free.
That is how I end up here, sitting on my bed in my jeans and T-shirt, my phone pressed to my ear as it rings. Cassy picks up after three rings.
“Hey girl,” her voice already laced with mischief. “What you up to?”
“I desperately need a night out.” I flop back onto my pillows.
“You and me both.” She doesn’t even hesitate. “Meet me at The Park Inn, that nice little bar in Westhaven. You know, the one on Dorset Street, in about an hour. And be prepared to drink a lot—I have so much to tell you.”
“I’m already there in spirit.” I grin, sitting up. “See you soon.”
I end the call and am about to toss my phone onto the bed when it rings again.
Dad.
I hesitate for all of two seconds before answering. “Hi, Dad.”
“Oh, so you are still alive,” his tone’s dry. “Just checking. Why haven’t you called or popped in? Your brother’s here. Come round tonight.”
Guilt pricks at me. “I’m so sorry, I should have called. It’s been...” I exhale. “Gray’s sister died.”
There’s a rustling sound, and then Dad’s voice, slightly muffled, “Jake—did you hear that? Gray’s sister passed away.”
More movement. A second later, Jake’s voice comes through the line, rough and familiar. “Hey, sis. Long time no see. What the hell is this about you working for Gray? And Nicole? She died? Seriously?”
“Hi, Jake.” I roll my eyes at his complete lack of preamble. “Yes, that’s right. I’ve been here for about a week. I’m nannying for his niece.”