Page 50 of The Charming Checklist
“You should have kept this in your car rather than bother Susannah,” Ava said, struggling with the last suitcase.
“I didn’t know how long I’d be driving around looking for you.”
“You could have called or texted me.”
“I don’t text. I’ve tried and I can’t stand being corrected. If I meantduck, I’d typeduck. Besides, I can’t find my phone.”
“Again?”
Dr. Long lost her phone daily. Unfortunately, once it had been found in the operating room, a huge embarrassment. She’d gone back to old-fashioned pagers. Her mother was the most intelligent woman Ava had ever known, and about as absentminded as they came.
Mom was now inspecting Ava’s home, presumably for any changes from the last time she’d been here. When her eyes caught sight of the gorilla sitting on top of the couch, she blinked.
“It’s a long story,” Ava said. “Look, I need to change. Just...make yourself at home.”
In her bedroom, Ava texted Max:
I’m so sorry about Dr. Long.
Max:Don’t worry about it. I’m tough enough to take it.
Ava:I’ll escape as soon as I possibly can.
Max:I want to see you.
Ava:Me too.
She added a heart emoticon for good measure because that’s how she rolled.
Maybe tomorrow she’d drop by with some of her roasted beans and surprise him with the real stuff. The idea of supplying the Salty Dog with real coffee held incredible appeal. If nothing else, she could stop adding Kahlua to hers.
After washing her face and changing into fresh clothes, Ava felt much better. Her mother was simply checking in, probably a surprise sneak attack to find out whether Ava had been lying about her relationship with Max. Moving from bohemian types to Max, it was no wonder Mom had doubts.
How convenient to no longer be lying. When Ava emerged from the bedroom, Mom had made herself at home. She’d changed from her pantsuit into her dressed-down “I’m home for the day” look. Which meant creased black slacks, matching sling backs and a silk short-sleeved taupe blouse. Always elegant.
“Would you like something to drink? I have bottled water.”
“I’m fine, honey.”
Ava sat next to her. “Why are you really here? Is something wrong?”
“All right, you could always read me. Your father and I had a small fight. As you know, we never fight.”
“I know.” It was weird, actually.
Ava believed every couple should fight. Everyone that deeply cared, anyway. Her parents thought it below their intellect to fight. When there was a disagreement on anything they entered into “negotiations.” But maybe Ava shouldn’t judge. They’d been married thirty-five years, after all.
“What happened? Did negotiations break down?”
“I guess you could say that. But I finally agreed. Your father said I have to let this go and that’s final. You’re never going to law school or medical school and he detests the idea of small-town politics. He demanded I back off and let you be. That we’ve lost that battle.”
“Really?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘Leave her alone, she’s perfect.’”
Oh, Daddy. Ava’s heart ached sweetly with memories of her father. He hadn’t had much time to spend with her but what little he did they’d spent flying kites or kicking a ball around. She should have known he’d come around.
“So, I’m here to find out what I did wrong.”
