12. Tanner
Chapter Twelve
Tanner
Memories and cats
As I turned into the gas station, an old memory slammed into me—fast, sharp, and unfortunately familiar. It was a memory that jolted my body, as if I’d reached the last step walking down, only to find one more. With too much momentum, I’d experience a bone-rattling thud that clanked my teeth.
This gas station was where my dad once screamed at me so hard my ears rang. I couldn’t remember his words exactly, but I remembered how I felt. The breath caught in my lungs as I eased the truck up to park. Even after doing the work to take that memory’s power away, it still had a bite.
My dad had been former military and raised by a rough man, like the one he became. He carried his trauma and anger outwardly. I intellectually understood that, but it had been rough being his son. All I’d wanted was to stay invisible. I tried to do the right thing and stay out of the way.
I managed it maybe 75 percent of the time.
The rest of the time, he noticed every detail, and it never went well.
This particular time, I’d overfilled the gas tank.
He had this thing about topping it off to the max without spilling a drop.
That day, a drop rolled out, down the side of his car, and to the ground.
I wiped it off, dread coiling tightly in my stomach. As soon as I got in the car, he slapped me and called me stupid, that single word ringing.
I let out a slow breath, realizing the old acid rise of shame wasn’t coming. The memory had faded a little. But I still never topped off my gas.
Later that evening, I eyed my phone. Ava’s name sat right at the top of my contacts since she was saved with just her first name. To be honest, I’d have kept it there anyway.
My lips tugged at the corners just thinking about her. She was sassy as hell and sparked like a lit match every time she opened her mouth. Of course, I couldn’t think about Ava without thinking about the kiss.
With something between a sigh and a groan, I leaned back in my kitchen chair and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe Laney had been right.
Beige.
Delaney, my therapist, would tell me not to listen to the ghosts of exes past. Just because someone says a shitty thing doesn’t mean it’s true. I knew that, but still. Would Ava think I was beige and boring?
I glanced at the phone screen again. Screw it. I tapped out a message.
Me: Hey. How are you settling in?
She replied faster than I expected. My mouth tilted into a smile the second I started reading.
Ava: Pretty good! I met Josie when she came over. She’s the one who stocked the fridge. She’s awesome, by the way. And an Olympic skier. Holy wow.
I chuckled, picturing Ava’s wide-eyed expression.
Ava: Anyway, it’s better than the hospital, but I’m a little lonely.
I complained about the hospital noises, but at least someone was always around.
Now it’s just me, myself, and I. Although Josie texted me after and she’s bringing me a grumpy old rescue cat.
She said he needed a foster. He’s kind of grouchy and missing half an ear. I LOVE him.
She sent a picture, and I chuckled. The cat looked like a tiny orange lion who’d survived a few fights. He had a big head, one-and-a-half ears, and the most unimpressed expression I’d ever seen.
Me: Cute.
Ava: Cute is insufficient. He’s ADORABLE.
Me: Okay, adorable. Have you met him, and does he have a name?
Ava: He’s nameless. I’m meditating on it. It needs to be perfect. He deserves a whole personality arc. I haven’t met him, but I already love him because he’s ADORABLE.
Me: Let me know when you pick a name. If you need some company, I can stop by tomorrow evening.
Ava: YES! I’m not desperate, or anything.
Me: Should I bring food?
Ava: YESSS. I’ll eat anything. Just surprise me. As long as it’s not hospital food and you bring yourself, I’m good.
Me: All right. It’ll be a surprise.
She replied with ten heart emoji and a fireworks GIF.
I set the phone down, only then realizing I’d been grinning through our entire text exchange. My cheeks actually hurt.
Ava was a lot of things. Unexpected, bright, alive, funny, and fierce. But mostly, she made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a while—a sense of possibility and joy.
I was going to kiss her again. I didn’t care if she was only here temporarily. I didn’t care if this was crazy. Every chance you didn’t take, you lost, so the cliché went.