Why? She's working. She's always working. That's her job, sweetheart. Ava frowned, kicking her feet against the chair.
I miss her. I know. Do you think she misses us? He didn't know how to answer that. His phone buzzed.
A text from Victoria. I'm sorry. Board meeting ran late. Still going. He typed back, "It's okay.
We understand. Tell Ava I'm sorry. I will. " Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again. "I miss you both. " Ethan stared at the message for a long time.
Then he showed it to Ava. She smiled. "See, she does miss us. " "Yeah," he said she does, but missing someone and being able to show up were different things. And as the weeks went on, Victoria's absences became more frequent. A missed lunch here, a canceled Friday there, always with an apology, always with a reason.
Ethan understood. He did, but understanding didn't make it easier. "Is Ms. Hail mad at us? " Ava asked one night. "No, baby. She's just busy. " "Too busy for us? " The question gutted him.
I don't know. Ava went quiet, then in a small voice. I thought she liked us. She does. Then why doesn't she come anymore?
He pulled her into his lap, holding her tight. Sometimes grown-ups have a lot on their plates. It doesn't mean they don't care. It just means they're trying to balance everything, and sometimes they mess up. Like when you forgot my recital.
He winced. Yeah, like that. But you said you were sorry and you didn't do it again. I did. So, Ms. Hail will say sorry, too.
I hope so. She hugged him, her small arms surprisingly strong. I hope so, too. That night, after Ava was asleep, Ethan called Victoria. She answered on the third ring.
Ethan. Hey, is everything okay? Ava asked if you were mad at us. Silence. Victoria, I'm not mad.
I know, but she doesn't. She's eight. All she knows is that you used to come around and now you don't. I've been trying, but I know I'm not blaming you. I just I needed you to know how she feels, how we feel.
More silence. I miss you, Victoria said finally. Both of you so much it scares me. Then why are you pulling away? Because I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to be what you need. We don't need you to be anything. We just need you to show up. What if I can't? Then you can't.
But at least let us know that. Don't just disappear. She was quiet for so long he thought she'd hung up. I'm scared, Ethan. Of what?
Of ruining this. Of getting too close and then losing it. I've lost everything I've ever cared about. My mother, my father, in a different way. I built walls because it was safer than caring.
And now you and Ava are here. And those walls are crumbling. And I don't know what happens when they're gone. His chest achd. You don't have to have all the answers.
You just have to try. And if I fail, then you fail. But you'll fail with us, not alone. He heard her breath hitch. I'm coming over, she said.
What? I'm coming over right now. Victoria, it's almost midnight. The line went dead. 20 minutes later, she was at his door.
She looked different. Her hair was down. No coat, just a sweater and jeans he'd never seen her wear. She looked younger, vulnerable. "Hi," she said.
"Hi. " They stood there, neither moving. "I'm sorry," she said, "for disappearing, for being a coward. You're not I am. I've been terrified of this, of you since the day I walked into your bookstore because you make me feel things I haven't felt in years. Things I didn't think I was capable of anymore.
Like what? Like hope. The word broke something open in him. He stepped aside. Come in.
She did. They sat on the couch, not touching, just existing in the same space. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing outside. I don't know how to be part of someone's life, Victoria said. I don't know how to make space for people.
My whole world is meetings and deadlines and strategies. There's no room for anything else. So, make room. It's not that simple. Why not?
Because if I do, if I let myself care, what happens when it falls apart? What happens when you realize I'm not worth the effort? That's not going to happen. You don't know that. No, he admitted.
I don't. But I know I'm willing to risk it. The question is, are you? She looked at him, her eyes shining. I want to be then be.
It's not that easy. It is actually. You just decide. You decide that this us is worth the risk and then you show up. That's it.
That's all we're asking. She wiped her eyes, frustrated with herself. I'm not good at this. Neither am I. But we can figure it out together.
You keep saying that because it's true. She laughed a broken watery sound. You're infuriatingly optimistic. Someone has to be. They sat in silence for a while.
Then Victoria leaned her head on his shoulder. It was tentative, uncertain, but he didn't move. He just let her be there. I'll try, she said quietly. I'll really try.
That's all I'm asking. She stayed for another hour. They didn't talk much. Didn't need to. When she finally left, she paused at the door.
Ethan. Yeah. Thank you for not giving up on me. Not a chance. She smiled and this time it reached her eyes.
The next Friday, she showed up at the bookstore with a book for Ava and an apology. Ava forgave her instantly. Kids were good at that. Ethan took a little longer, but not much. And slowly, carefully, they started building something new, something fragile and uncertain, but real.
It wasn't perfect. Victoria still worked too much. Ethan still worried too much. Ava still asked questions neither of them knew how to answer, but they were trying. And for now, that was enough.
One Saturday in late April, Victoria suggested they go to the park. "All of us? " Ava asked, eyes wide. Yes, if that's okay. Are you kidding? Yes.
So, they went, the three of them. It was warm, the kind of spring day that felt like a promise. They got ice cream, chocolate for Ava, vanilla for Ethan, nothing for Victoria until Ava insisted she try some. It's good, Ava said, holding up her cone. Victoria took a small bite.
It's cold. That's the point. I see. They walked through the park, Ava running ahead to chase pigeons while Ethan and Victoria trailed behind. He watched her watching Ava and something in his chest tightened.
What? Victoria asked, catching him staring. Nothing. Liar? He smiled, just thinking about how different things are now.
How different you are. Is that good or bad? Good. Definitely good. She looked at Ava, who was now trying to climb a tree she had no business climbing.
I never thought I'd have this, Victoria said. Have what? This? A Saturday in the park? Ice cream.