Page 84 of Pictures in Blue
“So, Avery,” Isabelle wipes her hands on her apron and starts loading the dishwasher. “Where are you from?”
Okay, easy enough question.
“California. I live in Malibu right now.”
“Do you like it?”
A more loaded question.DoI like it? I’m not so sure anymore. Especially after seeing the life that could be possible here. Or could it? I risk a glance over at Hudson who is in the living room with his dad and Sky, in the middle of a Scrabble game. Could I see a life here with him? With Sunday brunches and hikes in the mountains? Him working in the shop while I sit there editing photos? Coffee on the back porch, my feet in his lap, book in hand, snuggled under a blanket…a dream I am not sure could be real.
“Umm, yeah. It’s okay, I guess,” I answer, because there is something about Isabelle that makes me not want to lie to her. The comforting presence she gives off isn’t something I feel like taking advantage of.
“You don’t sound convinced,” she states.
“It’s not so much the place as it is the people,” I say, surprising myself. I look away from her and continue to rinse the dishes, handing them to her one by one. “I just…I have one really good friend there, Charlotte, but that’s it. And then I come here and meet all of you and… I don’t know. It makes me wonder why I still live there.”
“Does California make you happy?”
“I used to think it did. But not so much lately.”
“Well, if you don’t find the joy in something, or if that something isn’t treating you the way you deserve, sometimes you’re better off leaving it behind. Even if it’s hard to let go.”
Her words sink in, rocks sinking to the bottom of a pool, creating a ripple on the surface. The words spread out, becoming waves that refuse to be overlooked. And I wonder if Ethan was the only one to overhear my conversation with Sharon.
Anxiety. It always comes back to Sharon. She is what triggers it and I can feel it starting to take hold with a grip I don’t think is going to let go with my usual coping mechanisms. The last time I felt like this, I didn’t show up for a week to anything. I skipped work. I skipped dinners with friends, not that I really had many. But the familiar cloud of depression is looming overhead and lightning is about to strike.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HUDSON
It’s been two days since brunch and Avery has returned to her reserved self that she was when she first came to town. She’s closed herself off to me and everyone around her. Her phone hasn’t been far away from her and I’ve caught her ignoring calls and texts from Charlotte and someone else I’ve been too afraid to ask her about.
As much space as I’ve been trying to give her, I find myself wishing she’d let me back in. Her walls have been built back up, tougher and thicker than before and I haven’t found a tool strong enough to break them.
That ends today though. I am determined to break down her walls once and for all. This time into dust so they float into the wind, never to be built up again. I can’t help but feel there is something more she isn’t telling me though.
Sunday brunch went well. After her anxiety passed from being there in general and the whole experience with the spider, she seemed to have fun with everyone. She wasn’t even afraid to go up against my dad in Scrabble later and I lost count at the number of times my sister laughed.
It ended with the cheesiest Waters family group hug ever, with Avery smack dab in the middle, but when we enveloped her, her eyes fell closed and a soft smile tugged at her lips. It quickly turned sad though and I remember wondering what was going on behind her misty eyes.
I have a feeling whatever it may have been, it is still circulating there. A vulture circling its prey until it sees the perfect opportunity to fly down and peck at the exposed roadkill, picking it apart until there’s nothing left but an empty shell.
Before we made it to the door, my mom pulled me to the side while Avery made plans with Sky for something later on in the week. I only caught the word “paint” and made a mental note to ask her about it on the ride back.
“You look happy, son,” Mom had said.
I smiled down at her and saw her features softening as she placed a soft hand to my cheek. She gave it a gentle pat and said, “Don’t let her go.”
And made her way around me before I could deny her request. Her demand? Whichever it was, I’m not sure it matters. Avery has a life to get back to and so do I.
I head upstairs with a tray of food where I know she will be buried in the covers. With her staying in bed, I know she’s not making sure she eats, so I’m making sure she does. I push the door open with my foot and she stirs lightly at the noise. When she sees me, her face doesn’t light up like it normally does. It’s solemn and stoic, like she can’t make it look any other way. Or doesn’t have the energy to.
“Hey, Sunshine,” I say softly, closing the distance between us and gently setting the tray on the bed next to her. I shuffle myself in next to her and place the tray over my lap. “I brought you some breakfast.”
A muttered, “thanks,” is all she says, the bright energy drained from her. I hate seeing her like this. My sunshine dimmed and wounded.
“You need to eat, honey.”
“I don’t want to,” she responds and she sounds defeated, like she couldn’t sit up and eat if she wanted to.
