“Summer, do you still remember how to make a blanket fort?”
“Do I remember how to make a blanket fort? What do you take me for? I’m the best aunt ever. Of course, I know how to make one,” Summer scoffed.
Avery pulled a movie from the shelf and held it up. “Mom and I are reading these books. Can we watch the first movie?” Avery gave them a hopeful look.
Ava’s heart clenched. “I’ll get the projector ready. Summer, you get started on the fort.”
Summer set to work assessing the blankets strewn about on the couch, and Ava drew down the blackout curtains to prevent any shadows. In short order, Ava had the projector screen pulled down, and the movie queued up to play as Summer put the last touches on their fort. Avery sat in the middle of the fort with the earlier forgotten box of treats and more pillows than Ava realized her dad owned stacked around him.
Ava pulled the pizza out of the oven and divvied up slices on paper plates she found in the pantry, setting them on top of the box in Avery’s lap so they could join him. Then they crawled into the fort on either side of Avery. She had a feeling no matter how many pillows she had stacked under her, her back would still hurt from sitting on the floor.
A viewing of the first movie turned into the second of the series, and more snacks found their way into the fort. The box of pastries had long been polished off, and it was becoming harder for Avery to keephis eyes open. Halfway through, Avery lost the battle and fell asleep, sprawled among the pillows and blankets. They turned the volume down on the movie, leaving it as low background noise.
“Thanks for today, Birdie. He needed this,” Summer whispered.
Ava glanced at Avery’s sleeping face, his messy brown hair spread out in a spiky halo. A pang of regret bloomed in her chest. Sharp and sudden, and so painful.
Then a small, long-forgotten desire wormed its way out of the tiny box she’d packed it inside. Alongside the box where she stored her memories of Owen and the much larger box barely containing her grief about her dad. She was great at compartmentalization, but eventually, the boxes would tumble like they were doing now. And that tiny box fell first.
Her dad would never meet his grandchildren.
He wanted to be a grandfather so much.
I wanted to be a mother.
She shoved the thought back into its box and hid it away where it’d be hard to find, somewhere near her abandoned hope of impressing her mother. When she wrestled back control, she answered Summer.
“I think I needed this too,” she whispered.
Chapter 10
The Caution Tape
The truck headlights cut through the dark road on his drive to Ava’s cabin. Owen had intended to pick up Avery much earlier, but he couldn’t seem to catch a break. Between Maddy’s premature departure, the Historical Society meeting running long, and his evening chef calling out sick, Owen had been putting out fires all day. And through it all, worry about Avery lingered in the back of his mind. He was a resilient kid, but it became a different story when his mom left town.
He turned onto the gravel driveway leading to the cabin. The headlights illuminated the wild blueberry bushes lining either side of the path that turned into a steep decline to the property, bringing the lit-up cabin into view. Owen parked the truck and rolled his neck to ease the tension before hopping out into the cool evening. He glanced around for Summer’s SUV but only saw Gavin’s old Subaru.
A bolt of anxiety went through him. Had he misread the text from Summer? It was possible with how stressed he’d been today. He pulled out his phone to check the last exchange with his sister.
Owen:Finally wrapping up at the café. About to come get Avery.
Summer:We’re at Ava’s cabin. Come meet us here.
Owen:?
She hadn’t responded further, but he was certain she would have informed him of a change in plans. He pulled up Summer’s contact to call her but paused when the cabin door opened. A strip of light escaped the cracked door, creating a lit up path to Ava in the doorway. The yodel of the loon alarm registered at the same time as her smile.
“Hey. Thought I heard someone pulling in. Didn’t want to wake him up,” Ava said. She opened the door wider, inviting him inside.
Owen pocketed his phone and approached, unsure what to do about the way his chest throbbed at the sight of a relaxed Ava. Wavy strands framed her face, shining golden in the warm cabin light.
Ava’s laptop sat open on the dining table next to a lit candle that tried to replace the aroma of pizza with honey crisp apple and a single white lily in a glass of water. He could hear the low hum of a movie somewhere in the cabin. Owen glanced around the combined kitchen and dining area, surprised by the sense of comfort that settled over him.
It’s like coming home at the end of a long day.
“It's weird being here again, isn’t it? Like nothing, yet everything has changed all at once,” Ava said in a low tone.
“It’s like time stood still in this place. Has the loon alarm and everything,” Owen agreed.
