Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
KASEY
My palms sweat as I hurry down the aisle through the heart of the church, aiming for the heavy double-doors that lead out to the parking lot where Ava waits.
I’ve already taken too long. Pastor Brown was visibly frustrated with us having to end this appointment early, but he was reasonable enough to understand that we are not going to force Ava to continue a meeting when she’s not feeling well.
He said we’d gotten through enough, and anything we missed can be added to our second session.
When I get to the truck it’s already running. The air conditioning is cranked high, and Ava’s leaning forward so the cool air blows right in her face. “Sorry,” I rush out as soon as I open the driver’s side door. “You okay?”
She smiles, but it’s weak. “Never better.”
“You still nauseous?”
“Mhm.”
“Do you need to go back in?”
“Fuck no,” she protests. “Just drive and let me focus.” She squeezes her eyes shut and scooches forward in her seat so that her face is an inch from the air vent. With the sun shining through the truck’s windows, I can see she’s a little green. My heart cartwheels as concern takes hold.
I jump into the seat and peel out of the lot.
When I tell her I’ll take her to my cabin and then go back out for food, she whines and insists we stop for food on the way. “The ranch is outside of town and it’ll take too long. Food is the only thing that’s going to help. Trust me. I need to eat.”
I don’t understand how hunger can lead to .
. . well, this. But I oblige, stopping at June’s Café for a quart-sized container of potato soup and a handful of packaged crackers.
When I ask if they have any cans of ginger ale, Olivia looks through the large front windows at Ava, still hunched over in the truck. “Is she okay?”
“I have no idea,” I say honestly.
She must hear the worry in my voice, because she runs to the kitchen and reappears a minute later with a whole pack of the soda.
“Thanks for this.”
Olivia waves a hand. “It’s nothing. Let me know if she needs anything else—I’m happy to run something over.”
I dip my chin in thanks, and then hurry back outside.
Ava nearly moans at the smell of the soup as I tuck the brown paper bag it’s wrapped in on the bench seat between us on top of the case of ginger ale. “Holy shit,” she whispers, eyes still closed. The air conditioning blows her dark air out around her face. Even queasy, she looks . . . radiant.
Blood rushes into my face as I force myself to drive.
When we finally pull up to the front of my cabin, I grab hold of the food and ginger ale and push out of the truck so I can go help her out. But when I round the hood and make it to the other side, she’s already swinging the door closed and marching up the steps to the front porch.
“Damn,” I mutter.
She shoots me a glare. “Less gawking, more moving.”
I chuckle, some of the tension in my shoulders easing. “Yes, ma’am.”
Inside, I pull a bowl out from the cupboard and fill it with half the container of soup.
Ava waits at the small wooden table next to the bay window, strands of sunlight slicing through her hair.
I set the bowl and a spoon in front of her with a package of crackers, and then fill an old mug from the cupboard with some ice and as much ginger ale that will fit.
“Thank you,” she says between spoonfuls of soup.
“You need anything else?”
She shakes her head, mouth full.
I can’t help but watch her eat. It’s clear that she’s really, truly hungry, but I’m still nervous that all of this food she’s pouring into her stomach will just come right back up.
She reaches for the mug—a chipped brown one that reads COWBOY on the side—and tilts it toward her lips, taking a drink.
Her eyes flick to me, standing in the middle of the kitchen like an idiot.
“What?” she asks, setting the mug back down.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” I admit.
She picks up her spoon again. “Don’t you have a ranch to run? You should be out with the horses.”
“Not until I know you can keep all this down.”
She stills, the spoon stopping halfway to her mouth, a dollop of soup spilling onto the table. “Kasey, I’m fine.”
I cross my arms over my chest.
She sighs and goes back to eating.
To her credit, she eats the entire serving and two packages of crackers. She also drains the mug of ginger ale. There’s a flush in her cheeks again—a good sign, for sure. “Want more?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
I’m about to ask her how her stomach’s feeling, by my phone rings, the loud tune echoing through the small kitchen. I pull it out from my back pocket and see that it’s my mother.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when I answer. Ava shifts her eyes down to her empty bowl.
“Hi, honey. You in the barn?”
“I’m at home. I’m probably headed out there soon though. Is everything okay?” The dread is immediate. Anxiety claws at me, my mind flashing with images of a full army of sheriff deputies surrounding the main house.
“School called. Liam’s gotten himself into some trouble, and I was hopin’ you might be able to go get him. I’m home with James and . . .” She hesitates. “Well, Brooks isn’t havin’ a good day.”
“What happened?” I ask. My tone must change, because Ava’s gaze cuts back to me.
She sighs. “He got in a fight with another boy. Apparently made his nose bleed.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “All right, I’ll go get him.” Mom had Brooks add all of us to the emergency pick-up list after Melody died in case something like this happened. “Want me to bring him to you?”
“Yes,” she confirms. I know by the way she says it, Liam is in for some tough love. “I’ll be here waiting for y’all.”
“Yes, ma’am. Love you.”
“Love you too, honey. And thank you.”
“No problem,” I say before hanging up. I look at Ava, who’s still watching me from the table. “I have to go. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Where to?” she asks.
“My nephew got in a fight at school and needs to be picked up.”
“Can I come?”
I look at her. “You want to?”
She shrugs. “Why not?”
“How do you feel?”
“Better, now that I’ve eaten.” She stands to bring her bowl to the sink, turning on the faucet to give it a quick rinse. It’s . . . strange, to see her moving so comfortably around my kitchen. “Is he at Rattlesnake Ridge?”
“Yeah.” It’s the elementary school we all went to, Ava included.
Turning the water off, she looks around for a towel to dry her hands. When she doesn’t find one, she wipes them along her jeans, leaving streaks of water around her thighs. “Let’s go,” she says, heading for the door.
The school’s administration office is stuffy and loud with children flowing in and out for various reasons: to call home, to get a bandage from the nurse, and one young boy even came in to declare he thinks he has lice, which led to more hustle and bustle as the receptionist and vice principal worked to get him into the latter’s office for a thorough examination.
Ava and I wait for a whole twenty minutes before finally being called on by a woman with graying hair who looks to be about sixty. I was expecting to be met with haughty impatience over Liam’s actions, but there’s a warm and gentle smile spread across her face. “Kasey Bennett?” she asks.
I stand, nodding and reaching a hand out. “Yes, that’s me.”
She takes my hand. “I’m Principal Wuthers. I’ve got Liam in my office, if you’d like to follow me.”
“I’ll wait here,” Ava says from her seat.
“You’re more than welcome to come too,” Principal Wuthers offers.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m not family,” she concedes, and then must think better of it because she rushes out a hard and fast “Yet!”
“All right,” the principal says, looking back at me. “Right this way.”
I follow her through a door and down a narrow hallway. She eventually turns to a closed door on the left, pushing it open to reveal a slumped and quiet Liam, sitting in a chair.
“Liam,” she calls. “Your uncle is here.”
Liam turns to look at me, his face red and eyes full of tears. “Hey, buddy,” I say, taking the open seat beside him in front of the principal’s desk.
“Would you like to tell him what happened, or would you like me to?” she asks him, taking her own seat.
He looks down into his lap. “You can,” he mumbles.
“I’d like to hear it from you,” I counter.
Liam groans dramatically, stretching his legs out in front of him like he can’t bear to sit there any longer. “Max Greene called me an orphan.”
I frown. “Does Max Greene understand what an orphan is?”
“He said I already don’t have a mom, and soon I won’t have a dad either ’cause his dad said mine doesn’t want to be alive anymore.”
I turn to look at the principal, brows raised.
She purses her lips. “While I certainly do not condone Max’s words, they also do not give Liam the right to resort to violence.”
“He pushed me first!” Liam yells loudly. “I told him to fuck off and he pushed me down into the sand, so I got up and punched him.”
Again, I turn to the principal. “Sounds like he was defending himself.”
“Three other student witnesses have confirmed it was Liam who physically harmed the other child first.”
“Yeah, Max’s friends,” Liam spits out.
“All right, Liam,” I say, reaching a hand out to wrap around his small shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“Unfortunately,” Principal Wuthers announces, “school policy mandates a day of suspension for a first offense of physical violence. Liam will need to spend the day at home tomorrow, and hopefully, with some guidance and support from family, he can return to us on Friday in better spirits.”
I clear my throat, leaning forward so my head floats over her desk. “His mom just passed away,” I say, “and as you can imagine, things have been really hard at home. Don’t you think you can extend a little grace, just this once.”
Her face softens. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid with something of this magnitude we need to follow the rules. Liam will, of course, be welcomed back with open arms on Friday, and our school counselor, Miss Savannah, is here to support him through his emotions.”