Page 32 of Call It What You Want
“Well, I’m glad you checked in,” he says. “We’re fine here.”
I spend a few more minutes chatting with Dad and hanging out with Jameson before I cut my visit short. If I linger too long, there’s always the chance Jackson will come looking for me, and that can’t happen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jackson
The next twenty minutes crawl by like hours. The car is hot as fuck, so I’m outside, leaning against the hood, staring down at my phone, when the door of the front house swings open, and my mother storms out, her face a mask of fury. She has a glass of wine in her hand, and it sloshes as she makes her way down the front steps to confront me.
She immediately starts in. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Ember? Are you trying to take my daughter away from me now, too?” She’s practically screaming now, her voice raised as she makes her way toward me. “After everything you’vealreadytaken from me?”
Christ.
Mom doesn’t even let me finish the sentence before she lunges at me, the wine glass in her hand exploding against the cement in a shower of crystal and burgundy. I step back, but not fast enough; her nails rake across my cheek.
“You ungrateful piece of shit!” she screams. “How dare you show your face here?”
“I own the house,” I remind her.
I bought it when she moved back from Missouri, and discovered her dead husband wasn’t as wealthy as she’d been led to believe. Turns out, he wasn’t just a creep. He was a creep who left my mother buried in debt.
But if I’m being honest, buying the place was never just about helping my mom. It was my way of keeping Ava close. I planted the seed with her dad. I’d mentioned the guest house, how it was perfect for someone handy, quiet, steady. Just like the setup he had back in Missouri. I figured if he moved in, maybe Ava would stick around too.
Speak of the devil. Right then, Ava rounds the corner of the house, her eyes sliding from my mom to me. “Everything okay?”
My mom’s attention is pulled to Ava, and a flash of confusion crosses her face, before her eyes soften and all the vitriol miraculously fades.
“Ava? Hey, hon.” She steps over the shattered crystal and approaches Ava. “I didn’t realize that was you—” She stops herself, swallows, then seems to suddenly remember my presence. “What are you doing here with him?” she asks, pointing to me. “You shouldn’t be hanging around him. He’s a liar. He’s dangerous. He’s no good for you.”
Well, for once, we agree on something.
“We’re here to see my dad,” Ava says cautiously, like she’s eyeing a bomb that’s liable to go off at any moment. “I just wanted to check in.”
Mom nods, her eyes glassy, her movements too loose. It’s only ten in the morning, and she’s already drunk off her ass. She reaches out to touch Ava’s face, but I step between them before she makes contact.
She scowls at me before her gaze slides to Ava. “You are such a good daughter,” she says in a thinly veiled jab at me. “I know your dad appreciates you.”
“Yeah, thanksss,” Ava replies awkwardly, then glances at me. “Ready?”
She doesn’t need to ask me twice.
We drive back to Rush House in silence, but I can feel her steal glances at me. Finally, she speaks up. “I had no idea things were so bad with your mom.”
That’s a surprise.
“Your dad hasn’t told you?” I ask.
She glances out the window. “Some families avoid talking about politics or religion. My dad and I avoid talking about the McKnight family.”
My jaw tightens, but I can’t say I blame them. I’d avoid my family, too, if I could. “Yeah.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “What happened back there was really fucked up. Do you…want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okayyy,” she whispers under her breath. “It’s just that?—”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” I interrupt, gripping the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. “For fuck’s sake, just leave it alone, Ava.”
