Page 49 of From Ice to Grace
“I’m going to church,” I say, moving to the fridge and getting the cream before handing it to him.
“Mm,” he says, suddenly staring into his cup with a frown on his face.
“Your truck is still at the bar. But you can shower here, I’ve got some of EJ’s clothes in there you can borrow. My phone’s on the counter, if you want to call anyone. An Uber or whatever.”
“I’ve got my phone?—”
I turn away from him, the tone in his voice suddenly digging too deep. I helped him, I did what was right and now…I need to leave.
“Just lock up behind you when you go,” I say, grabbing my bible and moving toward the door.
“Avah, wait?—”
Before he can say anything else, I close the front door behind me. Leaning against it, I breathe through the mix of relief and nerves. He’s awake, he’s breathing, he’s still Declan.
With a sigh my gaze lands on my car parked on the street. I forgot I can’t drive it after Declan threw up in it. And I didn’t take the keys.
Great. I basically left the man my phone, my apartment, and my car.
At least I have my coffee.
This is New York, I’ll be able to find a taxi in a few minutes. But there’s no way I’m going back in there with Declan Murphy.
11
DECLAN
Sitting on the top step in front of Avah’s door, I wait for Lindgren to pick me up. There’s a voicemail from my Aunt and with a sigh, I press the phone to my ear and listen.
“Hey Sweetheart. I just wanted to talk…I know when you get quiet, it’s because you’re struggling with something. I’ve known you your entire life, so I know you won’t reach out until you feel ready to talk. But I want you to know that I’m here, that you’re loved. Not only by me, but by God.”
I swallow, my throat tightening listening to the love and sincerity in her words.
“I don’t know when last you spoke to Him, but know that He’s always with you, Sweetheart. Even in the difficult moments. Even when you feel like there’s no way out, He’s there. He’s always there. I love you.”
I stare at the phone, wondering how someone could still care this much about me. How someone, who’s neither of my parents, cares enough about me to call. She cares enough to know what’s going on with me without me saying a word.
I haven’t heard from my mom since she married her latest husband three years ago. And my dad…well, whenever he calls I try to avoid answering. Whenever I do answer, there’s no conversation, just a guilt trip followed by a not so subtle ask for money.
But my Aunt Kat has always kept a place for me in her life. No matter how much I messed up, how quiet I’ve gotten or how long ago I’ve visited her. Maybe it would be a good idea to take the time I have now with the suspension to drive up to Boston and see her. I owe her that much.
Lindgren’s car turns the corner, and I make my way down the steps to meet him. My gaze lands on the spot where Avah’s car stood an hour ago. Guilt gnaws at my insides just thinking of how I ruined the backseat so horribly. I had it picked up a while ago.
This morning I wanted to talk to her and properly thank her for what she's done for me, but instead something caused her to hightail out of the apartment before I could get anything out. Perhaps it’s better that way, at least she left her keys so I could get her car cleaned up for her. I’ll come back with it later…apology in tow.
“Thanks for picking me up man,” I say, sliding into the passenger seat of my housemate’s car. It’s a typical college student car, filled with hockey gear strewn across the backseat instead of empty take-out containers. At least he’s got his priorities straight.
“No problem,” he says with a smile. “You’ve had my back more than once man, it’s about time I return the favor. Even if it’s off the ice.”
“So who’s place is this?” Lindgren asks, turning into traffic.
Watching her apartment shrink away outside my window, I remember how she helped me last night. She sat close to me, allowing me to see every bit of blue in her eyes as she fixed up the cut above my eye. She didn’t have to help me, and even if she felt some sort of obligation to not leave me on the floor of the bar, she didn’t have to take me to her apartment and clean me up.
She could’ve dumped me on my own front lawn, but instead she showed me kindness.
Undeserved kindness.
“Avah’s,” I answer him before my brain can tell my mouth to shut up.
