“That sounds romantic,” Milton said firmly. “Congratulations.”
“Yes,” Ava added. “It’s nice to marry someone who is also your friend. Did you like the wedding venue?”
Cindy relaxed. “I did. It’s so beautiful.”
“With that ocean view.” Ava glanced at Milton. “It’s the place I was telling you about. For your sixtieth.”
“Whatever you choose will be perfect,” he told her. “You take such good care of me.”
“Oh, we won’t be using the main house on the property,” Cindy said quickly. “That’s far too big and, well, fancy. There’s a smaller area with a walled-in garden.” Her tone turned wistful. “I’ve always wanted a garden wedding.”
“Was your first wedding a big event?”
Cindy stared at her. “I haven’t been married before.”
Ava blinked in surprise. “But it’s been twenty-four years. Surely you...” She let her voice trail off, not sure what to say.
Cindy shrugged. “There just didn’t seem to be the time. At first I was struggling to take care of Shannon and my dad. Things were difficult and I was—” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together, as if remembering who she was talking to.
“You know what it’s like to raise a child,” she said instead. “I wanted to be available for Shannon, so somehow I never bothered to find anyone.”
“Or date,” Shannon said. “Mom was always there for me. Going to every school event, picking out my clothes, taking care of everything.”
Ava ignored the clutch of pain. As much as she’d been devastated by Cindy changing her mind, she would never have wanted the other woman to suffer. A thousand questions sprang to mind as she remembered Cindy and her father’s modest house and how money had been tight. With no post-secondary education, no skills, she wouldn’t have qualified for much of a job. Her father had been unable to work, and they’d been living off his disability and a small military pension. Throw a baby into the mix and they would have been barely getting by.
She wanted to point out that she could have helped. They’d been friends, and Ava would have wanted to... Except none of that was true. The core tenet of their friendship was Cindy giving up her baby. For that, Ava would have offered her the world. When Cindy had changed her mind, there hadn’t been anything left between them. Overnight they’d gone from friends who pretended to be sisters to strangers. Without the baby, there was nothing to hold them together.
“But now you have Luis,” Ava said, hoping her tone was gracious instead of filled with hurt. “And your garden wedding.” She smiled. “I remember how you always liked to grow things.”
Cindy grinned. “Those strawberries.” She glanced around the table. “I had several plants that I was determined to keep alive. I wanted fresh strawberries for my breakfast. But there were so many weeds, and I was huge and couldn’t really get down on the ground to take care of them.”
Ava hung on to what she hoped was a safe memory. “I offered to help.”
Victoria stared at her. “You weeded a garden?”
“I did. On my hands and knees.” She smiled at the happy memory. “I made Cindy sit in the shade while I took care of things. Only, I don’t have a lot of gardening experience, so I accidentally dug up the strawberry plants.”
She and Cindy smiled at each other.
“I felt horrible,” she added.
Cindy waved away her comment. “It was very funny. Ava was devastated and brought me fresh strawberries every day until she and Milton went away on their...”
On their vacation, Ava finished silently. And while they were gone, Cindy’d had her baby and changed her mind.
The table went quiet. Cindy stared at her plate while Ava did her best to think of something to say. Milton glanced at Aaron.
“What do you do, Aaron?”
“I own a landscaping company. It’s mostly lawn work, but I’m getting into helping my customers update their yards. Shannon has helped me with a few designs.”
“You must have inherited your ability from your mother,” Ava said lightly. “Just be careful with the strawberries.”
Conversation got a little easier, and by the time dinner was over and they all retreated to the living room for coffee and dessert, there were only occasional awkward pauses. At least that was how Victoria saw things. She couldn’t speak to what her mother and Cindy were going through.
She had no idea why her mom had dragged them all together for the meal. Her dad had mentioned closure, but based on her mom’s reaction to several things Cindy had said, there was only longing and pain—at least on Ava’s part. Victoria hop-stepped her way toward the sofa and sat down, refusing to admit she was dealing with a whole lot of hurt herself. No way she was giving in to emotion while in a crowd. Later, when she was by herself, she would think about watching her mom watch Shannon with a combination of yearning and regret. Plus seeing Cindy and Shannon together had made her uncomfortable. No, she corrected. That wasn’t the right word. Maybeenviouswas better. She and her mom had never been close—not like those two were.
She settled on the sofa and slid her crutches out of the way. Shannon walked over, paused, then offered a shy smile.
