Ava Comes Home (14 page)

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Authors: Lesley Crewe

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BOOK: Ava Comes Home
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“Lord almighty,” Hugh complained. “I suppose we have to shuck them for you too.”

“Would you?”

“You always were a spoiled brat.” He took the mussels and dragged them out to the cooking pot in the garage. Sandy helped her put the groceries away. “Maryette and Rose said they'd be over after supper to help you bathe Ma. I bet you'll be glad when your friend gets back, what's her name?”

“Lola.” Ava shrugged off her coat. “I've missed her. She's flying in tomorrow, which is good timing because the hospital called this morning and said Aunt Vi and Uncle Angus can come home in a couple of days.”

“Good. I'll pick them up then.”

“It'll be easier if they come home by ambulance. I've already arranged it. Did you see the hospital beds I bought? I'm putting them in the living room, so they don't have to go upstairs for the first while.” Sandy looked around. “It looks like you've been buyin' a lot of things for the house. Are you sure Aunt Vi wants all this new-fangled stuff?”

“I'm sure she will.”

“You don't have to buy our affection.”

Ava couldn't believe her ears. “I'm not. I'm trying to help out. And by the way, any one of you could've helped me by telling me that Seamus's wife was dead.”

“Seamus? Why would we talk about Seamus? You left him ten years ago. That's all in the past, isn't it?”

Ava looked away. “Yes, of course, but it was embarrassing to run into him and ask him how his wife was.”

“I'm sure he understood.” Sandy looked uncomfortable. “I'll go see if Hugh needs a hand.” He was out the back door before she said another word.

Ava sat hard on a kitchen chair. She couldn't seem to do anything right. Not about Seamus, and apparently not about buying things for her family. She either bought too much or not enough. She didn't know how to bridge the financial gap. If she gave them her clothes, they'd think it was charity. If she didn't offer to pay for everything, she felt guilty because she knew she made more money in a day than they made combined in a year. She was fed up with trying to do the right thing.

Her cell phone rang and she looked at the number. “Oh god.” It was Trent. He'd called several times in the last few days, but she refused to answer the phone. She was trying to figure out what she'd say to him. Well, she couldn't avoid him forever. She put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Where have you been?!” Trent yelled.

“I'm with my dying mother, Trent. Or did you forget?”

There was a pause. “Oh right. How is she?”

“She's dying.”

“Give her my best.”

“Sure.”

“When are you coming home? I'm fielding fifty calls a day from movie producers and television executives all trying to sign you. We're missing valuable time. By rights you should be traipsing around the country being interviewed by news shows on how you feel about winning the Oscar. Did you know that Pearl Tanner wanted you on her after-Oscar show the next day? That's huge!”

“I don't know when I'm coming home, Trent, because my mother hasn't given me her scheduled time of death.”

“I'm sorry,” Trent sighed. “That was callous. But is there anyway you can give me an idea of when you might be back? A rough estimate?”

Ava cleared her throat. “I'm staying here with my mother until the end and as long as my aunt and uncle need me. They were in a car accident and they need help over the next few months. I want to be here for them. They've been looking after my mother and they are elderly themselves. I owe them.”

There was complete silence.

“Trent? Are you there?”

“Repeat that for me again?” His voice was low and dangerous.

“You heard me. If you can't understand why this is necessary then you're not the man I thought you were.”

There was more silence before he said, “You're very clever, Ava, to put the burden on me, to make me out to be the bad guy. You have commitments. You said you'd be available to go on a promotional tour for your new movie. You also said you'd be on Broadway for the summer, not to mention the charity work you planned to do down in New Orleans.”

“Charity begins at home,” Ava reminded him. “Trent, all you have to do is go to these people and tell them that I have a family emergency. I think they'll understand. Believe it or not, actors are people too and we can't control our lives any more than anyone else can. If your parent was dying, I wouldn't expect you to keep working. Think about it.”

Now his voice took on a whining quality. “But what about World-Wide Pictures? What am I going to say to Forrest Kavanaugh?”

“Now that I'll be taking some time off, tell him I'll consider his offer once my shoot in New York is done. Is that fair?”

“I suppose so.”

“Thank you. I know you work hard on my behalf, Trent, and I appreciate it. But these things happen.”

She heard a big sigh. “Fine. I'll deal with things here, but I think you should call Camilla and give her some kind of statement she can dole out to the press about your absence. She's been inundated with media, but she didn't want to phone you considering the circumstances.”

“All right. I'll call her now. Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

“Yes, okay. I'll get back to you. Sorry about your mother.”

“Bye, Trent.” She closed the phone and immediately flipped it open again to call Camilla.

“Darling!” Camilla shouted. “Are you all right? I've been terrified to call.”

“I'm okay. It's hard, obviously. And to top it off my aunt and uncle were in a car accident.”

“Oh no! Are they all right?”

“They will be. But because of that I've decided to stay on here for a while, to help out my family.”

“Dare I ask if you've told Trent this news?”

“I just got off the phone with him. I'm not his favourite person at the moment but he'll live.”

“Remind me not to call him for seventy-two hours. Now what do you want me to say to the newspapers and so on? I take it you haven't been reading the rags. Otherwise you'd know the outlandish reasons they've come up with for why you've disappeared from sight.”

“I've hardly disappeared.”

“Sweetie, you're not in L.A. You're not in California. You're not in New York. You're not even in the States. So as far as everyone in the entertainment industry is concerned, you've vanished into thin air or rocketed into outer space!”

Ava laughed. “And you have no idea how good that feels.”

“Have you had Hayden Judd's baby yet? Of all the excuses they've come up with the last few days that one takes the cake, seeing as how when you received your Oscar you looked about as pregnant as a pin.”

“They found out about us?”

“You did jump into his arms at the Vanity Fair party in front of the Gossip News reporter.”

“Damn.”

“They've also had you running off to elope with Jasper Jones. But how you could do that and be lying on a beach in the Mediterranean with Prince William beats me.”

“Tell them my mother is ill and I hope they'll give me and my family some privacy at this very difficult time. You know the drill.”

“Fine. I'll do my best to get it out there, but there are a few loose ends.”

“Camilla, I've had a rough day. Can we do this another time?”

“Of course. Why don't you give me a call when you have a chance? In the meantime, wish your mother all the best. And take care of yourself, sweetie. I worry about you.”

“I'll be fine. I'm with my brothers and sisters and I can't tell you how wonderful that is. Oh, and Camilla? Could you call Maurice and Harold and tell them I love them and I'll call them soon?”

“Righto. Bye bye!”

“Bye.”

She no sooner got off the phone than someone knocked on the back door.

“Come in,” she shouted as she made her way to the door. There stood a delivery boy holding an enormous box tied with a red ribbon. “For Miss Ava Harris.”

“Oh thank you.” She reached out for the box and took it. The guy grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I love you, Miss Harris.”

This struck her as funny. “Do you?”

“Yes. My mother thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced bread. She said so just the other day.”

“Come in for a minute.” She turned away and put the box on the kitchen table, then reached into her purse and took out a twenty. She also grabbed a notepad and pen by the phone and turned to him. “What's your mother's name?”

“Florence.”

She scribbled, “To Florence, You have a very nice son. All the best, Ava Harris.” She folded it up and passed it to him along with the money. “Here. Tell your mother I said hello.”

His face lit up. “Thanks! She'll freak.”

“I hope not.”

He walked backwards out the door. Ava was afraid he was going to bow. He stumbled down the steps and hurried back to his truck. She went to the table and opened the box. A glorious arrangement of exotic flowers lay in scented tissue paper. The card read, “I'm a wicked man and a foolish one. Please, please forgive me. I love you. I love you. I love you. Hayden xoxoxo.”

She didn't want to smile, but she did. At least someone loved her— or thought he did. While her brothers were out of the house and before her sisters arrived, she quickly ran upstairs and checked on her mother, who thankfully was sleeping comfortably. She'd had a good week. Everyone said so and the family was sure it was because the baby had finally come home.

Ava crept to her room and called Hayden. He answered on the first ring.

“Do you forgive me?” he said, before she had a chance to say anything.

“I'm not sure.”

“I love you, baby.”

“So you say.”

“I really, really mean it.”

“You always mean it.”

“This time I'll prove it to you.”

She lay back on the bed. “How do you propose to do that?”

“I'm here.”

She sat back up in an instant. “What?”

“I'm here, on this glorious island in the middle of nowhere. I flew in this morning. I've been holed up in a hotel room waiting for your call. Please say you'll come to me.”

She didn't know what to think. She was a bundle of conflicting emotions.

“Please come to me,” he whispered. “I'll make you feel good. You must be lonely and upset with everything that's happening with your family. I thought you could use a big hug.”

She felt her resistance start to disappear.

“You don't have to tell anyone I'm here. I'll go away as soon as you want me to. Just let me hold you in my arms for a little while.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“I'm at the Delta, under Charlie Chaplin. Room 502.”

“You're a dope,” she laughed.

“I know.”

“I'll be there in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, baby. Thank you.”

She closed the phone and fell back on the bed. Why did she say yes? She was a fool. He didn't love her any more than the delivery guy did. But he was good fun when he wanted to be—why not take what was on offer and worry about it tomorrow? Besides, how else would she get through the evening after the shock of seeing Seamus? And knowing he was now a widower didn't help the situation. Maybe Hayden could erase him from her mind for a few hours.

After a quick shower, she greeted her sisters when they arrived for the evening and even ate a few of Hugh's mussels. Then said she needed to get out of the house for a bit. Would they mind terribly?

They told her to go ahead. Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed the keys for the rental and drove out of town, taking the long way in, through Mira. She told herself it was to sight-see a little, to take in the miles of fir trees and the little clapboard cottages nestled along the shoreline, but she soon found herself parked by the side of the road, walking across the highway to look down onto one of the beaches that circled Mira Bay. She stared out to sea for several minutes, remembering a night a long time ago.

Why did she tell Seamus to stop? She had regretted it ever since and now she'd never have that moment back again.

This way of thinking was doing her no good. She turned around and got back into the car, churning up gravel as she put her foot to the floor and sped towards Sydney. Or was it rushing away from that beach?

On went the sunglasses before she got to the lobby of the hotel. She looked down at the floor and rushed passed the reservations desk. Thankfully, the elevator was empty. She was in front of his door in no time. She knocked softly.

Hayden, the ridiculous man, answered the door in a tuxedo. The lights were dimmed, music played, and a bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket. The room was full of roses. He never said a word, just took by her hand and locked the door behind her. He took off her sunglasses, then reached behind and released her hair from its clip.

She was content to do and say nothing.

He led her into the middle of the room and put his arm about her waist. He started to dance slowly and she let him lead. Keeping his eyes on her, he reached over to hand her a glass of champagne. She took a sip while he grabbed another glass. He emptied his, and so did she.

Hayden danced her over to the bed and then took his hands away and started to undo her satin buttons. She didn't move until he drew the sleeves of her blouse down her arms. That's when she put her head back. He reached behind and undid her bra. That too slipped down her arms like silk.

He helped her take off the rest of her clothes before she lay back on the bed. He never took his eyes off her.

And that's when she knew she was in trouble. She only saw one face looking back: Seamus.

He made love to her and she let him. He never even noticed that she was silent for most of it, and that she had tears in her eyes from a sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. The only way she felt him was to pretend that it was Seamus kissing her body and Seamus moving on top of her. Oh God, if only.

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