Chapter 12 - Daniel Went Back To The Driveway
Two days later, Daniel drove the route he had driven the night Julia died.
Ava came with him.
No Vanessa.
No Rachel.
They stopped outside the old house gate, then followed the road toward the interstate.
Ava watched him grip the wheel.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I've been remembering the same fifteen minutes for twelve years.”
They reached the intersection where Julia's crash had happened.
The road had been redesigned.
A gas station stood where an empty lot once had.
Daniel pulled into it.
They sat in the parked car.
Ava looked through the windshield.
“You thought Mom was taking me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you really think she'd do that?”
Daniel stared at the intersection.
“In the fight? Yes.”
“And after?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“When did you stop?”
“Probably before I turned the car around.”
“So why did you keep believing it after she died?”
Daniel was quiet.
“Because anger was easier.”
Ava thought of Vanessa.
Same explanation.
Different person.
Daniel continued.
“If Julia had been leaving me forever, then the last fight made sense.”
“And if she wasn't?”
“Then I had said something unforgivable to somebody who was coming home.”
Ava looked at him.
“So Vanessa wasn't the only one who liked the wrong story.”
“No.”
He said it without hesitation.
Ava looked at the traffic signal.
“Would Mom have forgiven you?”
Daniel gave a tired laugh.
“I have no idea.”
“Would you have apologized?”
“I hope so.”
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I was proud. I was scared. I had money and family lawyers and I'd gotten used to those things making my fear sound reasonable.”
Ava listened.
“I want to believe I would've apologized the next morning.”
“But you don't know.”
“No.”
The light changed.
Cars moved through the intersection.
Nothing happened.
Ava had expected the place to feel haunted.
It felt like a road.
“Did you ever blame Vanessa for Mom being out here?”
“No.”
“Now?”
Daniel looked at her.
“No.”
She nodded.
Good.
The accident had another driver.
A red light.
A terrible minute.
The family had enough real wrongdoing without inventing a murderer.
On the way home, Ava asked:
“Are you sleeping in your room?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“Guest room.”
“So where are you?”
“Study.”
“Your back is forty-three.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled.
Then:
“Do you want her to leave?”
Daniel thought.
“I want her to stop deciding what information I can survive.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust her?”
Daniel took longer.
“Not with the past right now.”
“And everything else?”
“I don't know.”
Ava looked out the window.
That answer was becoming common in the house.
She had started to prefer it.
When they reached home, Vanessa was standing by the fireplace.
The third brick was still out.
The cavity remained open.
Daniel stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Vanessa turned.
“I wanted to put it back.”
Ava looked at the brick.
Then at her.
“Why?”
“It looks strange.”
Ava laughed.
Vanessa almost did.
Ava walked over and picked up the brick.
For a moment she considered sliding it into place.
Then set it on the hearth.
“Leave it.”
Vanessa nodded.
No argument.
Daniel stared at the empty space in the wall.
May you like
He didn't call it symbolic.
Ava was grateful.
