Fight or Fall (30 page)

My focus was on her the whole time, she’s bitten her lower lip more than a few times and her eyes flickered in doubt and determination as we walked closer to a huge tree that offered shade and a prime view of the blue green waters and the rough mountains that surrounded the lake.

When Bee and I were kids, our dad loved to take us here for camping, daytrips, and picnics. This is where I’d learned how to use a hook, line, and rod to lure striped bass, catfish, and bluegill. My introduction to the water wasn’t in the pool nor in the ocean, it was here. The calm, predictable teal blue waters of the sixteenth largest man-made structure in the Western Hemisphere was where my childhood attachment to water originated from. I’ve swam in the scenic peninsulas in Son Marroig, Mallorca and even felt the crashing, pounding waters of Cape Leeuwin in Australia– they all brought exhilaration and awe – but this here, the still ebb and flow of Lake Mead was home.

It’s the calm to my tempestuous, wild nature. A place that resonated with my eagerness to learn to build structures as great as this and pacified my feral temper.

Much like the woman in front of me.

Calm but fiery.

Soft yet impervious.

My attention was brought to the scene unfolding in front of me. Ava was now bending down to the level of a woman in a wheelchair whose face was hidden from my view by a blue scarf. Ava kissed the top of the woman’s head, leaned in closer, and I caught her lips moving, whispering something to the woman.

A middle-aged lady with olive skin and scars on her face, her face somehow familiar to me, stood behind the wheelchair and gave me a small smile.

I nodded my head and said, “Hello.”

Ava beckoned me to come closer, so I did. The woman in the metal wheelchair turned her head up, her voice came out clear, “Milo? How are your parents?”

Shock and disbelief planted me on that spot. All the sounds, activity around me went into a standstill. I took a sharp intake of breath, but nothing came out of my mouth. Nothing could have prepared me for this.

Ava straightened from her position, reached for my right hand, and twined her hand with mine. She leaned her head back against my dark navy shirt-covered chest, one that I’d randomly picked out of my drawers this morning, and I consciously removed my hand from her hold to wrap my arm around her waist.

“My parents…” The breadth of the reality in front me was striking, reeling, knee-buckling. Ava’s mom was in France – at least that’s what Bee had mentioned to me before – she was a model, a socialite, a generous lady who would invite my parents over for dinner when she had picked Ava up at school. My parents never took her up on her offer for dinner dates. She always drove the coolest cars, cars that I’m familiar with only because they were part of my vintage toy car collection – Bugati Veyron, Maserati Ghibli, and a Rolls Royce Corniche. She dressed impeccably and her flawless beauty usually reduced the men around her to babbling idiots. I’ve seen it one too many times. Teachers, high school kids, even my father had mentioned that Ava’s mom was a rare beauty – to which my mom had agreed to. The best judge of how a woman would look like when they aged is through their mom. Even at a young age, I caught sight of Ava’s future, her extraordinary looks because of her mom.

“Milo’s parents are not here, Mom,” Ava answered for me.

Her mom let out a light chuckle. “Those lovebirds…they’re never apart.” I didn’t think my parents and Ava’s mom were close. I think they were mere acquaintances who were around each other because of my sister’s friendship with their daughter. My mom didn’t hate Ava’s mom, but she often commented about how Ava shouldn’t be left alone with a nanny. Now I remember, that’s who the woman standing behind Ava’s mom was – her nanny.

“Do you feel the breeze, Mom?” Ava asked and a smile that exposed her teeth appeared.

“It feels good, Ava. I love this place.”

For the first time since I’d arrived here, I touched my lips to Ava’s hair and let my hand linger on her waist, rubbing gently, slowly, soothingly. It was obvious that Ava’s mom was not the same woman I’d met before. She was wearing sunglasses so I couldn’t see her eyes. But I could completely see that she was unable to move her hands and legs because they remained where they were in in the short amount of time we’ve been here.

Beams of light peeked through the leaves and Ava’s nanny stated, “
Mi amor
, we should move there.” Pointing to the other side of the tree where no sunlight seemed to pass.

Ava nodded, “Si.”

In a matter of minutes, we’ve moved to the shaded area. Ava’s nanny, or former nanny, pulled out a big, green quilted blanket and laid it on the small patch of grass beside the wheelchair. Her mom was lulled to sleep by the gentle breeze while Naomi, as Ava had re-introduced us, excused herself to explore the area.

“She’s all I have, Milo,” Ava spoke, her eyes dewy with unshed tears. She had just finished telling me the story of her mom’s accident and how she was traveling with her father’s best friend, Simon, at the time of the accident. From what she’s revealed to me, it sounded like Ava’s mom and Simon were carrying on an affair and her father found out. I’d asked why Ava wasn’t with them if they were running away from Ava’s father to which she’d thought about for a few minutes and responded with, “I don’t think they were running away. She’d have brought me with them if she was.”

“Is this why you’re a puppet to your father? Why you’re hanging out with that blonde asshat in public?” I asked, realizing that while Ava maintained a façade of a spoiled rich girl in public, what was important to her was not of the material kind. It was in the way she looked up at Naomi, like anything that came out of the woman’s mouth was bible. It was in the tender touches she gave her mom, the love outpouring from her pores.

Presently cradling her head on my lap, she tilted her head up, her eyes blanketed in gloom. “He holds all the cards you know. With a flick of his finger, he can ban me from ever seeing her again. He hates me, Milo. I think it’s because I remind him so much of my mother. I’ve never been an obedient daughter. I did my own thing and my mom let me be. The first time I took her to see a neuro specialist in New York when he was in Hong Kong, he was livid. The second time I took her to another one here in Nevada, he drew up documents stating that I could never take her to anyone other than his own doctors. It’s like he doesn’t want her to remember.” She continued, her left hand fiddling with the tiny diamond ear piercing, “Dr. McGrath, the neuro in New York, said that she could have a chance of gaining her memories back. But I don’t even know if it’s possible now. It’s been years... And what nursing school has taught me is that if you don’t use the muscle, you lose it. She hasn’t used that part of her brain for years, so her ability to remember and function might have dramatically decreased by now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” She knew all about me, and this was something integral that she had to disclose if she wanted to give us a chance. “Don’t you trust me?”

She lifted a hand to my mouth and pressed on it. “Shh…I trust you with my life Milo.”

“Then why?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust you with hers,” she admitted, her eyes changing to a duller gray. Ava’s eyes fascinated me, always have, even when I teased her when we were younger. They became almost shiny silver when she’s happy, dark gray to black when she was in her huffy, annoyed moods, and dull gray when she was sad. Tapping a soft finger just below my chin, she added, “What I meant is that, if my father learned that I’d told someone else about my mom’s situation, he’d probably move her to another place where I wouldn’t be able to reach her. I…I don’t know if I can handle it and I just don’t want anything happening to her without my knowledge. It’s bad enough I’m only allowed to do certain things with her, I just can’t imagine not being with her for long periods of time. When I travel, I make sure to video chat with Naomi just so I’d know how she’s doing.”

I thumbed along her collarbone, her skin pinked up at my touch. “What do you need me to do, Ava? Ask me now. Tell me. Why are you telling me about your mom?”

“Because I’m selfish.”

“Selfish?” My brows bunching up, I adjusted her head so her neck won’t be hurting later, my legs weren’t as soft as the downy pillows she favored. “Why do you say that?”

Slowly, she sat up and straddled my lap, crossing her legs behind my back, her stare soft, open. “The past weeks have been so hard for me. You’re all I can think about. I miss you...so much. I know there’s probably a good chance it’s not going to end well with my father and I when he learns about what I’ve done here today. I didn’t want you involved. But you’re my Achilles’ heel, Milo.”

“Achilles?” Ava liked to read about those Greek gods. More than a few nights she’d fall asleep with a hard-bound book on top of her chest. Those were the times when I was trying to finish a project with Jeff. Sometimes she’d share with me stories about heroes of the Trojan war.

One time, I’d joked that the only Trojans I knew were Magnums and brought a lot of ecstasy. That was the night I was banned from getting anywhere near her
pleasure points
. She’d set up a line of defense with five pillows around her and to make matters worse, she had worn a bra to sleep in as if letting me know she was completely off-limits. After that I made it a point never to joke about her precious heroes. Relationships meant respect, give-and-take, learning to value what the other person likes. She understood my fascination with cars and video games; I tried to listen to her talk about Heracles, Agamemnon, and a dude named Zeus. Most of the time, I dozed off by the time she was at the height of talking about some love triangle, but I’d redeem myself by saying, “That was a beautiful love story,” or, “Wow, what a kick-ass hero!” She probablymy knew I was faking it, but she’d just give me a smile for even pretending to listen.

“I’ve heard of Achilles. He’s the guy who caught the arrow in the foot right?” I verified, tracing my right forefinger over her lips. I’m pretty sure Brad Pitt was Achilles in a movie wherein he wore a leather skirt and rode a bunch of horses. Hell would have to double freeze over before I’d ever ride a horse in a skirt.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, fixing her blouse that had become crinkled from lying on the quilt. “You wanna shoot me with an arrow?”

She inhaled a large breath and looked directly at me. “He caught the arrow in his heel and it’s believed that he died because of it. He was the greatest warrior in the Iliad and he fell to his death because of an arrow. When I say you’re my Achilles, it means you’re my weakness, Milo.”

Shaking my head, I stated, “I don’t ever want to be your weakness. I want you to draw strength from me. From us. Your father can’t use me against you, Ava. His hold on me has an expiration date. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re feeling, remember this; I understand how you feel. I’d protect my family from any harm. I don’t want you to hang out with Emmett. Whether it’s a fake date or not, it stinks like shit and I hate it. But I’m willing to make a compromise because now I know you have great reason why you’re doing it.” Stealing a glance at her mom who was napping peacefully against a small pillow that Ava had placed around her neck before joining me on the picnic blanket.

Clutching her hands tightly against my chest, I murmured against her lips, “He gets nowhere close to this.” Touching my hands all over her body. “He doesn’t touch you any place your clothes cover Ava. So when you’re out and about with him,” gritting my jaw so hard that I may have permanently locked it, “You wear a freakin’ parka if you have to.”

Placing small, tender kisses on my face, she answered, “Emmett is just a friend. I’ll continue this charade with him because I have to. The reason I asked you to come meet me here today is because I want you to know and understand that you’re very important to me. I don’t want to lose you. I’m sharing with you the only person who’s more important to me than you.”

I would never make Ava choose between me and her mom. If that was a choice she had to make, I’d always tell her to choose her mom. I understood the strength of the bond between families. I would never be able to live with myself if she’d knowingly chose me over her. Theirs was a bond that transcended time, space, meaning; she didn’t owe me any explanations. All Ava had to do was tell me. All I had asked for was honesty.

“I understand, baby. You have to do what you gotta do. I’ll be here for you. But there’s one other thing I’m gonna ask from you…” Hugging her until no space was left between us, I commanded, “You. Come. Home. To. Me.”

She nodded her head and kissed me like she’s been starving for me as I had been for her. Ava’s appeal to me was beyond physical. I cared for her beyond the borders of the vast lake ahead of us. It’s what makes the pain, the anger of what I’d been through the past weeks dull and fade away.

I will never come to terms with Emmett dating her in public, even for her father’s benefit. But I’d endure it for her because the woman sitting immobile on the chair to my left was the woman Ava valued more than me, more than her own happiness, and I’d be less of a man if I ever denied Ava that.

By the time the sun’s rays formed a pattern of purplish orange hues along the mountain peaks, Ava, her mom, Naomi, and I had spent the day talking about Ava’s childhood.

Ava treated Naomi like a mom. To a judgmental outsider, Naomi’s scarred face could be a deterrent; they were distracting at first because you were left wondering how in the world she survived those obvious burn marks. I’d have to ask Ava about them at another time when it’s just the two of us. But Naomi’s personality, her zest for life, outshone a dark past and I believed Ava had a lot to do with that. When Naomi talked, Ava listened with rapt attention.

My woman, as beautiful as she was, cared for things and people where beauty was hidden to the discerning eyes. Sure, Ava liked to feel good and look good. But she’d gladly offered her sweater when she saw Naomi shiver from the cool breeze. When Naomi was about to feed Ava’s mom lunch, Ava told Naomi to sit with me and just relax.