1
Ava
Iam knee-deep in project designs this morning when my receptionist tells me that I have an urgent call. Working in the design business in Manhattan means that someone has anemergencyat least once a day and expects me to drop everything to attend to it. But this time, the look on her face as she hands me the phone indicates that this might actuallybean emergency.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Miss Martin?” a strange voice says back.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Miss Martin, my name is Doctor Griffin and I’m calling from Fairport, New York.”
My heart immediately sank. There was only one person that I still kept in contact with back in my hometown of Fairport, and it just so happened to be the one person who meant more to me in the world than anyone else—my mother.
“I’m very sorry to have to inform you that your mother has passed away.”
I knew those were the words that would be said through the phone even before he said them. I just didn’t want to believe it. I sit down and nearly miss the chair that I feel my body sinking into. Fortunately, my receptionist is quick to react and pushes the chair legs beneath me before I hit the seat. Everything in my body feels simultaneously numb and quivering.
“Miss Martin? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whisper as I try to choke down the sob that I know is coming. “I’m here.”
“Your mother has a will and an estate. I’m just the doctor here, but since I had your contact information down as your mother’s emergency contact, I volunteered to be the one to call you in case you had any questions about her death. I’m also supposed to let you know that you’ll need to come back to Fairport to settle her estate.”
Questions about her death?What did it matter? She was dead.
“Thank you,” I whimper shakily on the phone. “I don’t have any questions. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
I think he said something else after that, but I’m not listening anymore. I hand the phone to my receptionist without bothering to hang up.
“Are you okay?” she asks me.
I can’t answer that question.
“I’m going to be out of town for a few days,” I say as I get to my feet even though I feel like the room is starting to spin around me. “I have a personal matter to attend to. Reschedule all of my clients for the week, please.”
I hear her acknowledge my directions and ask again if I am okay. But just like the man on the phone, I ignore everything except the sound of my own thoughts in my head.
My mother is dead.
There is no other family besides me, and although isn’t a complete surprise for a woman her age, it’s still a shock. How could the death of your mother not be a shock? I have no one to talk to about this and no one to share in the pain I feel, so tonight I will grieve and tomorrow I will take care of what needs to be done. That’s what I always do, take care of things that need taking care of. It was that determination that got me out of the country and into a successful career in New York City, and it would be that determination that would get me through the loss of my mother.
When I get back to my apartment, I walk in and drop my keys on the granite kitchen counter and head straight for the wine rack. I kick off my shoes at the same time that I grab the wine bottle, corkscrew, and a wine glass all in one hand before heading to sit on the couch that overlooks the Manhattan skyline. I crack open the bottle and pour my glass all the way up to the rounded lip. By the time I am on the second glass, I am already deep into thoughts of my childhood and all the things about growing up in the rural small town of Fairport that I had purposefully not thought of since I moved away after high school. I remember that I absolutely couldn’twaitto get the hell out of the bumpkin country and move to the big city. Everyone thought I was crazy, or stuck up, or that I would fall flat on my face once I left home; everyone except for my mother. She was my very own personal cheerleader—always. When I got to the city, I didn’t keep in touch with anyone from home. I made all new friends once I became a successful designer.
Now, the thought of going back home is nauseating. Not only do I have to deal with the death of my beloved mother, but I have to deal with going backthere. Both are things that prompt me to get up and grab a second bottle of wine from the rack. I suppose the sooner that I get it taken care of, the better. I’ll drive home tomorrow, settle my mother’s estate, figure out what to do with my childhood home, and then as soon as I have things all wrapped up, I’ll get right back in the car again and get back to the city. I can’t imagine that it will take more than a few days at most. By next week, I will have closed yet another chapter in my life, which I will cherish fondly and then move on from. That’s what Mom would want me to do.
* * *
The drive to Fairport isn’t bad and I am able to handle a few work-related matters over the phone from the road. I’m sure the company can survive for less than a week without my physical presence there. I do have a couple of high-profile projects underway right now, but I also have a couple of good partners in the design firm that can manage to keep things viable until I get back. I head straight to my childhood home to stay for a few days while I take care of things.
But much to my surprise, someone is already there when I get there.
2
Trevor
Iknew that Ava would be coming back to settle her mother’s estate, but I didn’t expect to see her pulling into the drive right now; just a single day after she had been called about it. For some reason I figured that she would be much too busy with her city life to drop everything and come back home.
