Chapter 6 - The Boxes Upstairs
Ava had been told for years that Julia's belongings were gone.
Not thrown away.
Gone.
The word allowed everyone to imagine whatever hurt least.
Vanessa finally led them upstairs.
Past the bedrooms.
Past the linen closet.
To a narrow storage room behind the west staircase.
She unlocked it.
Ava stared.
Boxes.
Eleven of them.
Some labeled JULIA.
Some AVA - BABY.
One marked KITCHEN.
Ava turned.
“You said there was nothing left.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I said we didn't keep her room.”
“You knew what I thought.”
Vanessa didn't deny it.
Daniel stepped into the room.
He looked as shocked as Ava.
“You told me we donated most of this.”
“We did donate clothes.”
“What's all this?”
Vanessa looked embarrassed.
“I couldn't throw it away.”
Ava laughed.
“You couldn't throw it away?”
The charred photograph existed downstairs because Vanessa had done exactly that.
Vanessa opened the nearest box.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens.
Julia holding infant Ava.
Julia asleep on a couch with Ava curled against her.
Julia standing in the backyard covered in flour.
Daniel and Julia at some terrible costume party.
Ava sat down on the floor.
She picked up one photo.
Then another.
Her hands began shaking.
“My only picture.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Ava held one up.
“You watched me protect one photograph for years.”
“I know.”
“And these were twenty feet from my room.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vanessa sat on the opposite side of the box.
“I don't have an answer that will make you feel better.”
“Try one that makes sense.”
Vanessa looked at the photographs.
“When you were little, your father couldn't handle them.”
Daniel stood in the doorway.
Ava looked at him.
He nodded.
“True.”
Vanessa continued.
“When you got older, you could.”
Ava waited.
“That part became me.”
Daniel leaned against the door frame.
Vanessa turned one photograph over.
“You would ask about your mother constantly.”
“I was a kid.”
“I know.”
“You married my dad.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Vanessa stared at the photo.
“You'd say things like, ‘Mom would've let me.’”
Ava's jaw tightened.
“You tore up my photo because I compared you to her?”
“No.”
“That's what you're saying.”
“No.”
Vanessa looked at her.
“I'm telling you when it started bothering me.”
The honesty surprised Ava.
Vanessa continued.
“I knew it was childish. I knew you were grieving somebody you barely remembered.”
“Then why?”
“Because Julia never got tired.”
Ava frowned.
“She never had to tell you to clean your room when you were thirteen. She never had to take your phone away. She never had to tell you no and then watch you look at a photograph of somebody who couldn't disappoint you anymore.”
Ava looked down.
It was unfair.
It was also true that she had done that.
Vanessa said:
“I became jealous of a dead woman.”
Daniel looked away.
Vanessa continued.
“And instead of dealing with that, I made the house easier for me.”
Ava looked at her.
“You made Mom smaller.”
“Yes.”
No explanation followed.
Ava picked up another photo.
Julia was making a face at the camera.
Ugly.
Funny.
Alive.
“Why keep these?”
Vanessa rubbed the edge of the box.
“Because every time I decided to get rid of them, I knew exactly what Julia would call me.”
Ava almost asked.
Then stopped.
She didn't want Julia turned into a line Vanessa could use.
Daniel walked deeper into the room.
He opened another box.
Inside were children's books.
A scarf.
A cracked ceramic bowl.
Nothing that solved anybody.
Then he found a flat frame wrapped in newspaper.
He unwrapped it.
A photograph of Julia and Vanessa.
Young.
Maybe twenty-eight.
Standing shoulder to shoulder on a beach.
Vanessa had her arm around Julia.
Julia was laughing.
Ava stared.
“You were friends.”
Vanessa looked at the photo.
“For twelve years.”
Ava had known they knew each other.
She had never known that.
“How close?”
Vanessa's voice changed.
“She was the first person I called when my engagement ended.”
Daniel looked at her.
Ava said:
“You were engaged before Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom know you loved him?”
Vanessa's head came up.
“I didn't.”
“Ever?”
“Not while she was alive.”
Ava studied her.
She believed that.
It annoyed her.
Daniel sat on one of the boxes.
“Why did Julia trust you with the letter?”
Vanessa looked at the old beach photograph.
“Because the night she left, she was furious with both of us.”
Ava frowned.
“Both?”
May you like
Vanessa's eyes moved to Daniel.
“She wasn't only fighting with him.”
