“I want you to leave,” she says softly.
“Bye, Ava.” I reach around her to open the door and storm out into the rain, my body numb, my heart somewhere back in her apartment, shattered under her feet.
Ava
Present day . . .
Dad asked me to come by his office on Monday, so even though I usually hang with my theater students in the drama classroom during my lunch hour, I let them know I wouldn’t be around today and walked the two blocks from the high school to Dad’s office.
If I had my way, I probably wouldn’t ever come here. Harrison works for my father, and whereas one time walking in these doors made me feel like a proud daughter and wife, now it just makes me feel like a failure. Another good reason why a girl shouldn’t weigh her worth by the man she’s with. I believed I was valuable because Harrison wanted me, and when Harrison left me, I had to grapple for the remaining shreds of my identity. It made me question everything—my relationships, my talents, even my job. I had to fight to rebuild my self-confidence.
Today, when I walk through the doors of McKinley, Morton, and Zimmerman, it’s just as it has been the last two years: a reminder of where I fell short. Harrison’s still here, his last name, Zimmerman, added to the door just a few months ago when he became partner, but I’m no longer in Harrison’s life. Not only was I not good enough for Harrison, turns out I’m not good enough for my father either.
I head past reception and down the hall to Dad’s office and am greeted by the sight of my stepmom at her desk. Unfortunately, Dad is that much of a cliché. He left my mother for his secretary.
Jill beams at me. “Hey, birthday girl! I’m sorry we didn’t get together this weekend.” She stands and walks around the desk to hug me. “Your dad had those tickets to the Cubs game and was dead set on going. I know he was sorry to miss your special day, though.”
I give her a quick squeeze, and when I release her, I return her smile and wonder if she believes the crap she’s shoveling. My father probably didn’t think twice about missing my birthday. “Jill, don’t worry about it. I was busy all weekend.”
Her shoulders sag in relief. “You are the sweetest girl. So understanding and always putting others before yourself.”
My stepmother doesn’t fit her end of the cliché. While I have no trouble thinking of my father as an asshole, I can’t think of Jill as a bitch or a floozy or any other match that would suit him. Maybe I wanted to believe the worst of Jill when Dad first left, but I was too young and too enamored by her beauty and sense of style to question if her kindness was genuine. Luckily, it was.
“Your daddy’s expecting you,” she says. “Can you stay? Maybe I could cancel his one o’clock and we could sneak out and take you to lunch?”
I shake my head. “I’ve gotta get back for fourth period.”
“Another time, then.” She smiles and leads the way to Dad’s office door, then knocks softly on the frame before cracking it. “Nelson, Ava’s here to see you.” She opens it the rest of the way and waves me in.
“Hi, Dad,” I say as I head toward him.
“Ava!” He stands, pushing himself up on the desk. My father must have some Dorian Gray thing going on, because I swear he hasn’t aged a day since I was a kid. At fifty-nine, he still has a full head of dark hair and the body of an athlete. Since I know he values his appearance, I’m glad he’s aged so well, but his good fortune means I’ve had to endure years of hearing my girlfriends talk about how they’re hot for my dad. That I could do without. “Did you have a happy birthday?”
He walks around the desk and wraps me in a hug, and I’m ten years old again—a little girl who believed her father left because she wasn’t good enough, and who cherished the moments he gave her any reason to believe she might be. I may wish I didn’t want his approval, but I still seek it out.
“It was a great birthday, Dad.” Pulling out of his arms, I look up at him and smile. “Did you and Jill have a nice trip to Chicago?”
“We did, and luckily for you, I ran into my old law school buddy while we were there. I don’t know if you remember meeting Vern and Martha Stone.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. The names don’t ring a bell, but maybe I’d recognize them if I saw them.”
“Well, I met Vern in law school and they’re dear friends, and now probably the best thing that ever happened to you.”
I frown. “How do you figure?”
He rubs his hands together, as if he’s hatching a great plan. “I heard about the layoffs, Ava, but lucky for you, Vern’s wife is an administrator for a school system down in Florida. I’d just read the news about the cuts that morning and found it rather serendipitous running into him. I gave him a heads-up that you’d be looking and reminded him that he owes me a few favors.” He chuckles like this is the funniest joke, but I don’t feel amused in the slightest.
My father assumes I’ll be one of the teachers let go. Way to have faith in me, Pops.
“We don’t know yet how many people are going to be laid off,” I say, trying to sound more patient than I feel. “I don’t have any reason to assume I’ll be one of them.”
Dad gives me a tight smile. “Let’s not be foolish by failing to cover our bases.” He arches a brow. “If we have an opportunity in Florida, then we’re going to make sure we nurture that opportunity in case we need it.”
“Yeah, but even if I do lose my job, I’m not even sure I’d want to—”
“Always so defiant.” His tight smile turns into a wrinkled expression of disapproval. “Perhaps you need to take a moment to reflect on the best words to say right now.”
If I were a flower, that sentence would have me withered and brown. Once again, I’m ten—the chastised child who isn’t showing the proper gratitude to her father for including her at Sunday dinner with his new family. I’m seventeen and living with my father’s perfect family and falling short with every other step. I’m twenty-eight and being lectured about why I should be more sympathetic toward my cheating husband.