8 #3
I can’t think how to play it cool and just end up tucking my hands in my pockets and nodding to her hand. “How did you, uh, get that?”
Ava eyes me warily. “Oh, uh, that’s another secret. Unrelated to the first one, I promise, but, uh . . . ”
She shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. She fidgets, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down. “This actually happened after I left that wedding we met at. I was driving home, and it was really dark out, and I . . . I hit someone’s dog, I think.”
She winces like she’s ashamed, and I realize we’re having two very different conversations. She’s revealing something she’s embarrassed about to me, I’m having the world’s slowest heart attack.
“It happened so fast. I looked away from the road just for like, two seconds. And then afterward, I got out of the truck thinking I’ll put it in the back and drive to the nearest vet. But then, as soon as I got close, it bit me and ran off. I hope it’s ok.”
I remember coming home with blood in my mouth, but I’d hoped it had just been an animal’s. Not a person.
I blink at her. “I . . . oh. It bit you?”
She nods and tries to smooth the peeling bandage over it like it’s no big deal, but my blood runs cold. “Yeah, I went to the hospital to get a rabies shot like right after it happened. The co-pay was a nightmare without insurance. Honestly the shots hurt worse than the bite did.”
She’s staring at me, waiting for a reaction. I look to the parking lot, her truck’s dented front corner with the cracked headlight, and finding no answers there, I thread my fingers between hers, giving the non-bitten part of her hand a squeeze.
“Yeah, those are no joke. I’ve had to get that one a couple of times. The woods aren’t for everyone.”
“Uhh, what are you doing that you’re out here getting bitten a lot?”
“I, uh, well it doesn’t sound as cool if I tell you I’ve taken out the trash and gotten ambushed by a raccoon, does it?”
“Ha! Well, who hasn’t?” She laughs, and I don’t care that it’s loud.
I think I like that it is. There’s something genuine in it. She doesn’t put any effort into withholding her reactions. It’s refreshingly honest.
Ava leans into my side, and a long sigh escapes me. Maybe I can just enjoy this, and skip feeling guilty for how good it is.
There’s a long moment of quiet, just holding her hand, her gaze, breathing in the smell of her hair, when I realize I’ve been sitting out here with her for too long.
Distantly, I hear Father Mulcahy speak the benediction, before the usual chatter between pews fills the church hall, and people spill out into the aisle.
Ava’s brows pinch together in confusion as I pull out of her grasp and stand, tugging her up off the stairs with me. “I should probably get back to my family.”
Her eyes widen and her hand yanks out of mine, like the thought of meeting my family is more than she cares to stick around for. “Right, right. I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“I’ll be there.”
She jogs back over to her truck, and I watch until she’s gone.
No sooner than I step back through the fire exit, the door to the nave opens and Celine spots me.
“Just this once I need you to kiss me and make it look like we’re in love,” my ex-fiancée says instead of a hello, which is the first thing that throws me.
“What?”
She reaches my side in a few long strides, before I even really process what she just said.
She glances back to the rest of the congregation slowly making its way out into the parking lot, watching the door as it slowly swings shut.
Celine breathes, “I went to a frat party, and my mom found out about it.”
“What does that have to do with us? I thought we were telling your mom we’re—?”
“Not right now,” Celine hisses. I give her a look, but she shakes it off quickly. “The spirit is unwilling and the flesh is not super about it either.”
“What?”
“I said change of plans, play along,” she nearly growls through clenched teeth. There’s an edge of urgency to the way Celine grips my arm that makes me decide not to ask questions right now.
The door bursts open again, and Celine’s grip tightens, dragging me down to her height for an abrupt kiss. It doesn’t last long enough for me to react, just for her mother to see.
“There they are!”
Celine releases me from the kiss, but not her hold on my arm. She keeps my stare for a second, her brows pinching together as she tries to place where that wisp of artificial cherry flavor came from. She licks her lips but discards the thought and turns to her mother.
“Oh, you two, always looking for a moment alone,” her mother croons as she crosses the hall to us. She always seemed to think we had ulterior motives when we would sneak off to my father’s study together as kids, teenagers, even as adults, searching for a bit of quiet to escape to.
My mother follows in after her, and Celine’s mother pivots to greet her, embracing in the church foyer. “Deanna, hello dear!”
“I don’t think we’ve seen you at a service here since you moved closer to Boston,” my mother says to her, sneaking in a confused glance at me to try to glean any context from my expression. Her brows pinch as her eyes snag on my cheek. “What’s that?”
Before I can even think, she pulls a tissue out of her purse to scrub at my skin like I’m a sticky-faced kid again. I can’t help but jerk away, taking the tissue from her.
Mrs. Carrington thankfully regains our attention again with a throat clearing. “Yes, well, we thought we’d come down and visit, like old times. And Logan, I wanted to ask you to come over for dinner as well, next new moon.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here just to extend an invitation,” I lie, knowing full well I’ve been dodging her calls the best I can.
“It’s hard to get a hold of you otherwise,” Mrs. Carrington replies, her stare confirming that she suspects as much.
“Oh, yes, well the brewery has been very busy lately,” my mother lies politely on my behalf. “There’s been some squabble with our suppliers.”
Celine nods and hums with interest to usher this new topic along, but her mother sets her eyes unwaveringly upon me.
“So, have you given any thought to rescheduling . . . ?” Mrs. Carrington asks, and all I can do is blink back, utterly unprepared for that.
“MOM,” Celine admonishes instantly, and her mother waves her concern off.
“Oh, I’m just joking, you two. You look like a deer in the headlights, darling.”
We’re not going to talk about what happened last full moon. Families like ours don’t do that. Even Shawn knows not to bring it up. You pretend it didn’t happen. It only gets brought up when someone wants you to feel shitty, to provoke you.
Mom at least makes a pinched face and a shudder rather than deigning to reference out loud the clusterfuck that was Shawn coming back home for my wedding and immediately mating the caterer, Elise. I also don’t want to put more thought into that week than I have to.
My mother redirects Mrs. Carrington’s attention with a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Aiden’s waiting for us in the car, where are you parked?”
The two older women fall in step as they begin back out toward the emptying hall, catching up.
I hold Celine back a moment, trying to recover from the last minute or so as the doors swing shut again.
“Your mom’s inviting us over for lunch, back at your house,” Celine tells me, clearly still listening to our mothers’ conversation. She winces, before admitting like it’s some great secret, “I think I need more caffeine to make it through another hour of this.”
“I make good coffee back at the house, if you want.”
“ . . . I was thinking Dunks. I’ll just, y’know, stop at the drive-thru.”
“. . . Yeah, alright, grab one for Aiden too. He’s also addicted to that swill.”
Celine rolls her eyes at me, but asks casually, “Does he still like it extra light and sweet?”
“Well, you see if either of you actually liked real coffee instead—”
“Whatever, you can still make your stupid real coffee, I’m sure Kyle will try it,” she huffs, clearly not in the mood for any repartee. Celine spins on her heel, heading back out the door after our mothers.
Alone for a breath after that whirlwind, I pause to look at the tissue in my hand. My eyes snag on the flecks of dirt and mulch, from where Ava was rubbing my cheek.
Not sure if I hope to glimpse Ava again or not, I glance out the window to the empty courtyard, before I follow Celine, a few steps behind. Her high heels clip loudly against the tile as she brushes past Shawn, the only one who decided to hang back for me.
He bumps his shoulder against mine, falling in step beside me. “Since when did they change ‘peace be with you’? What’s this ‘with your spirit’ nonsense?”
“Get with the times, man. It’s been that way for a while now.” I shrug and pocket the evidence.