Victoria hoped they were still talking about Margarite and not anyone else. “I’m trying to figure out how to bleed on the page. It’s not easy.”
“You’ll get there,” Ava said confidently. “You’re incredibly talented.” She offered another picture. “Halloween when you were four.”
Victoria frowned at the image. “Was I one of the Village People?”
“Just a construction worker. I tried to get you to wear a princess costume. You can imagine how well that went.”
“I was a handful.”
“Yes, you were, but you were also the daughter I was meant to have.”
A comment that surprised Victoria. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re friends with Shannon. I’m sure she’s lovely, but I think we both know I would have crushed her personality. You’re strong enough to stand up to me.”
“And you call me on my shit.”
“I do. Although you have less now than you used to.” Ava frowned. “I’m not sure the shit analogy is working in this context.”
“But it’s nice that you went along with it.”
Her mother put the box on the coffee table, then faced her. “I worry you do things in your life to punish me or get back at me. It’s fine if you end up happy, but what if you’re missing out on things that would be wonderful, simply because I might approve?”
Victoria dropped her gaze to her lap. “I don’t do that.”
“We both know that’s not true, and it makes me sad. You’re my daughter, and everything about you is precious to me. I wish I could make you believe that.”
Victoria thought about all the time and effort her mother had put into her notes on the screenplay and how, when she’d been injured, her mom had insisted on taking care of her. At every crisis, Ava had been there, whether Victoria wanted her or not.
She suspected her mom had been the one to come up with the idea of gymnastics as a way to channel her energy but had arranged for Milton to suggest it because that way Victoria wouldn’t automatically say no.
“According to Dad one of the reasons we butt heads is because we’re too much alike.”
Her mother smiled. “I think he might be right. Although you only have my very best qualities. The rest come from your birth parents.”
Victoria grinned. “Sure, Mom. Keep telling yourself that.”
Ava reached out and touched her cheek. “About your scar,” she began.
Victoria sighed heavily. “Fine. Whatever. Give me the name of your doctor and I’ll make an appointment.”
Her mother looked startled. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you.”
“You live to push me, but yes, I’m sure.”
“Then I’ll text you the contact info.” Ava’s lips turned up in a faint smile. “And he’s not my doctor. He’s done work on a few friends.”
Victoria grinned. “Sure, Mom. Keep saying that. I’ll keep your secret.”
After brunch with an annoyingly in love Shannon and Aaron, Victoria drove to the address she’d already loaded in her phone. The open house was from one to four, in a cute little neighborhood that was mostly older starter homes. Of course, this being Los Angeles, the price tag was just over a million, but sure. Why not?
Apparently they were pulling in a crowd, because she had to park nearly two blocks away. She went in and started to look around. In the kitchen, she found a stack of flyers that included all the specs on the house, along with a picture of the listing agent. As she stared at the very handsome and familiar face, she felt an odd kind of fluttering in her stomach. One that didn’t sit well with the huevos rancheros she’d had.
She told herself she wasn’t nervous. That if Javiar rejectedher, she would simply sock him in the stomach and walk away. It wasn’t as if he would charge her with assault, and given her upper-body strength, she could probably leave a bruise.
But she would rather the conversation went another way, which was why her breakfast sat so uneasily.
She found him outside with a young couple. The woman was obviously pregnant, and they both looked so hopeful as Javiar talked. She knew nothing about them but found herself hoping the house thing all worked out.
