Chapter 10 - Ava Read The First Line Alone
Ava opened her mother's letter in her bedroom.
Alone.
She had insisted on that.
Daniel waited downstairs.
Vanessa stayed in the guest room.
Rachel went back to her hotel.
Ava broke the seal carefully.
The first line made her cry.
Not because it was beautiful.
Because it was ordinary.
Ava,
If you are reading this, I hope you have better hair than you did at four.
Ava laughed through the tears.
She kept reading.
I don't know when this will find you. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe when you're sixteen and furious at everyone. That seems likely because you are already very talented at being furious.
Your father and I had a terrible fight tonight.
I need you to know one thing before anyone turns it into something cleaner.
I was angry enough to leave the house.
I was not leaving you.
Ava stopped.
She pressed the paper to the bed.
Then continued.
Your father said something cruel because he was scared.
I said cruel things because I knew exactly where to hit him.
Vanessa tried to help and made both of us angrier.
If she still knows where this letter is, that means I trusted her longer than I was mad at her.
Ava stared at that sentence.
Julia had written it before anything was resolved.
Before Vanessa hid the envelope for twelve years.
Before she married Daniel.
Before she destroyed the photograph.
The letter continued.
I don't want you growing up with one good parent and one bad parent in your head.
Your father loves you.
I love you.
Neither of those sentences makes us wise.
And please don't let anyone make me perfect because I'm not around to embarrass myself.
Ask Rachel about the county fair.
Ava smiled through tears.
She would.
The final paragraph was shorter.
If I come home tomorrow, I'll probably regret writing all of this.
If I don't, ask your own questions.
Don't let Daniel answer for Vanessa.
Don't let Vanessa answer for Daniel.
Don't let Rachel answer for me.
And when you are old enough, don't answer for me either.
Love,
Mom
Ava read the letter four times.
Then she sat on the floor.
Nobody knocked for almost an hour.
Finally Daniel did.
“Ava?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me?”
She looked at the letter.
“I don't know.”
“Okay.”
His footsteps moved away.
She stared at the door.
Then:
“Dad?”
They stopped.
“Yeah?”
“Come in.”
He entered.
He didn't look at the page until she handed it to him.
He read slowly.
At the county-fair line, he laughed.
Ava asked:
“What happened?”
Daniel smiled.
“Your mother entered a pie contest.”
“So?”
“She bought the pie.”
Ava stared.
“She cheated?”
“Absolutely.”
“Did she win?”
“Second.”
Ava laughed harder than the story deserved.
Maybe she needed to.
Daniel reached the end.
His expression changed.
Ava watched him.
“Do you wish you'd gotten this twelve years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Would it have helped?”
Daniel thought.
“I don't know.”
Good answer.
Ava looked toward the hallway.
“Mom said Vanessa still knows where the letter is because she trusted her.”
Daniel nodded.
“She didn't know Vanessa would hide it.”
“No.”
“She didn't know you'd marry her.”
“No.”
Ava folded the paper.
“So Mom doesn't solve it.”
Daniel looked at her.
“No.”
For once, neither of them seemed disappointed by that.
Then Ava asked:
“Are you divorcing Vanessa?”
Daniel sat back.
“I don't know.”
“Do you want to?”
“I don't know.”
Ava nodded.
Another answer nobody had manufactured for her.
“Can I ask her something?”
“Of course.”
Ava looked at him.
“You don't have to approve every question.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“Right.”
She stood.
“What are you going to ask?”
Ava opened the bedroom door.
“Why she waited four years to tell you she loved you.”
Daniel's expression changed.
Ava stopped.
“What?”
He looked toward the stairs.
“She didn't.”
Ava frowned.
“What do you mean?”
May you like
Daniel said:
“I told her first.”
