If her family just had more money, they’d be all right.
Chapter Seven
Ava
I’m dead tired by the time I reach the small apartment I share with Bennie. Private jet or not, I didn’t get much sleep on the flight. I was too tense and too aware of Lucas.
I reminded myself over and over about how he used me, but it wasn’t enough. My entire body was prickling like it was being enveloped in heat after being out in particularly grueling cold weather. Much to my mortification, the flesh between my legs throbbed as I remembered the decadent, insatiable things he used to do to me.
I press the spot between my eyebrows and breathe out. I’m just tired. That’s the only reason I’m letting myself feel anything other than disdain for Lucas.
I forcibly evict all thoughts of Lucas and concentrate on the present. Our apartment is a 2LDK—two bedrooms plus a larger area that serves as a “living-dining-kitchen”. Not that it’s really large; the place is tiny by American standards, actually smaller than some of the shared dorm suites in college. But space is at a premium in Japan, especially in a big city like Osaka.
I step into the entryway, take off my shoes and call out, “Tadaima.”
It loosely means “I’m home” in Japanese. Since it’s local custom to say it every time you come home, I’ve started saying it too.
There’s no responding “okaeri”, so Bennie’s probably either asleep or out. He often sleeps in on the weekends, and on the rare occasions he gets up early, he goes out. He says hanging around the apartment feels like being stuck in a hamster cage.”
I go to my room. Unlike Bennie’s, mine doesn’t have tatami-mat flooring. There’s a kind of synthetic, slightly cushy wood-like material instead. It’s actually pretty easy on the feet. There’s no bed in the room, just a low table with a seat cushion underneath. A small closet with sliding paper doors has my clothes and the futon set I pull out every night. I set down my suitcase, unroll the futon and pass out on top of the blanket.
When I open my eyes, it’s semi-bright in the room. My thin curtains don’t block the sun very well. A good thing too; otherwise I would’ve overslept every morning I’ve been in Japan. I hate getting up early.
I take my phone out to check the time. It’s a little after four p.m. I have an alert—a new email from my foster mother, Darcy McIntire. She lives in Virginia with her husband Ray. I lie back on the futon and read it.
Subject: Holiday Plans?
Ava,
It’s been so long since we last saw you. How are you?
We are doing fabulous. Mia is also doing well. We’re attaching her latest photos for you to look at. She looks a lot like you, especially the eyes and mouth. Ray keeps saying she’s going to break some hearts when she grows up. I agree.
U
nable to wait, I click on the four photos she sent along with the email. They show a toddler who is a little over seventeen months old. She’s in a pretty pink dress with pink, blue and white ribbons in her dark hair. Mia is my foster parents’ adopted daughter and absolutely gorgeous. And Ray’s right about Mia’s eyes and mouth. I smile, tracing the adorable lines of her smiling lips, then run my fingers over her face lovingly. She looks happy, with fat cheeks and bright blue eyes. She’s perfect, raised by perfect parents.
I go back to the email.
We were wondering if you’re thinking about coming home for the holidays. If Thanksgiving is difficult, we wouldn’t mind Christmas or New Year’s. I know trans-Pacific isn’t easy, but we’d love to have you back. We miss you so much, Ava.
If it’s difficult booking a ticket this late, we’d be more than happy to help.
Love and miss you.
Darcy
Darcy’s offer to “help” sends a pang of guilt through me. When she asked last year, I told her I couldn’t go because it was too expensive to buy a ticket so late. It was a lie, of course. I just didn’t want to return to Charlottesville. Back then she didn’t push, obviously trying to spare my pride. But this time she isn’t going to be that delicate about it.
After all, it’s been sixteen months since I left.
Suddenly I’m wide awake. I rest the phone on my chest, screen down. Darcy and Ray don’t know I had the interview in Thailand. A job there would put me even farther away.
A fierce longing pierces my heart. Why not just go home permanently? Who cares if I’ll be unemployed? Darcy and Ray won’t mind if I stay with them while I look for a job.
But…
I tighten my mouth. It’d be stupid to go home when I have a job in Japan and a nice offer in Thailand. The economy is horrible in the States. It’s better to stay where I am.