Six months after the funeral, she was still sleeping in Alexis’s old room. Still bringing a little light to my gloomy existence. It was not as if we lived in each other’s pockets. She had gone back to work. Science was such a part of her, and she worked long hours; I normally waited up for her. I also had my job, in IT consulting. I travelled with that. Each trip, I yearned to be back home. Back with at least a sliver of my old life. Back with the person who understood and shared my grief. We took care of each other. What was wrong with having a second daughter? What was wrong with Ava having a surrogate Father?
Nothing it seemed, until she told me that there was something important she wanted to talk to me about.- – –
It had been in the morning, as we shared a pre-work coffee. She didn’t want to talk now, but asked if I was free that evening.
Of course I pressed her on what it was. But she was adamant that we wait until later. I was short of time as well, and we departed in opposite directions; me feeling frustrated with her, a most uncustomary feeling.
By the time we had eaten that night, I had convinced myself that she wanted to move out. That she had found someone new. I guessed that it was inevitable. Ava was highly intelligent and also an attractive woman. Her mother had been Vietnamese, her father a Euro-mutt; much like myself. She’d inherited the best of both sides, and had a calm elegance, a willowy suppleness of movement, and a delicacy of features that any man would covet.
Yes, that was what it must be. A new man. How stupid could I have been to think that?- – –
We sat at the dining table. At ninety degrees to each other. Plates pushed to one side. Ava had her black hair back in a sensible ponytail for work, and was wearing her rimless glasses. She looked every inch the committed Biologist that she was. Her work went over my head. Something to do with the spliceosome, whatever that might be. She had been preoccupied during dinner. I knew her well enough to not push things.
Now we sat in a silence that was becoming almost a third presence. I could tell she was fighting some internal battle. Perhaps revisiting a decision she thought she had already made. I felt bad for her and, in my blundering way, tried to help. I put my hand on hers and spoke softly.
“Ava, you know I have loved having you here. I don’t know how I would have got through the first few months without you.”
“You too, Martin. I needed you as well.”
She smiled. But a tight smile, something else clearly on her mind.
“But… but we never said forever. You have your own life and… well, if you have met someone, and…”
Ava laughed. A short and bitter laugh.
“No. No I haven’t met anyone. I don’t… don’t really want that. Not now at least.”
I blushed, my reading of people was clearly off. Or maybe it had been my own fears speaking to me. I realized that I desperately wanted her to stay.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My stupid mistake. I just think that a lot of men would like you, the way… the way Josh did. He was crazy about you. But I’m rambling. Telling you things you know. I’m sorry. Just an old man getting it wrong.”