Ava's Prize

Kyle released his breath. One quick tour. One more afternoon with Ava. That wouldn’t be too much of a distraction. Nothing Kyle couldn’t handle.

CHAPTER TWO

AVA BUSIED HERSELF with the sun-kissed-yellow teapot whistling on the stove and tried not to track her mother’s every step from the kitchen into the family room. Today was a good day. With every step Ava’s mother took, her auburn curls bounced rather than wilted against her forehead. She’d opted for her cane over her walker—another improvement.

Lately, her mom’s bad days seemed to outnumber the good days by almost two to one. Ava should be celebrating these moments with her mom. Not leaving her alone. “I’ll call Dan and cancel.”

Her mom settled both hands on the cane. Her voice lowered into parental override mode—the one that demanded, not requested. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“It’s no big deal.” Ava set the tea mug on the end table beside the couch, along with the bamboo tea chest, filled with her mom’s favorite tea blends. She avoided looking at her mom, worried her too-perceptive mother would notice the hint of disappointment in her gaze and call her out for lying now. “I wasn’t really interested in touring Kyle Quinn’s think tank anyway.”

“Ben expects you to be there.” Her mom lowered herself onto the couch and settled the cane within easy reach. “You can’t disappoint that precious boy.”

She also couldn’t leave her mom alone. That made Ava feel like a disappointment as a caretaker. Ben was young; he’d recover. Her mom’s good days weren’t guaranteed. Her stomach clenched around her love for her mom. How many stars had she wished on over the years to end her mom’s pain? How many prayers had she recited since middle school? She ignored that knot twisting through her chest and concentrated on gratitude. She was grateful for this day. “Ben will understand if I don’t make it.”

“Well, I’m ordering you to go.” Her mom dropped a ginger tea bag into the mug; her tone dropped into the criticism category. “You need to do something other than work and look after me.”

“I like my work.” Perhaps not as much as she wanted to, but her work fatigue was temporary. Sleep and a night off would improve her outlook. Ava tugged the teal throw from the back of the couch and tucked the fleece blanket around her mom’s lap. “Even more, I like to spend time with you.”

“I’m supposed to be doing the looking after.” Her mom touched Ava’s cheek. Regret stretched into the lines fanning from her mom’s pale blue eyes and slipped into her voice. “I’m the mother—it’s my job.”

“You did that while I was growing up.” Ava took her mom’s hand and held on, giving and absorbing her mother’s strength. Pleased she could be here for such an amazing woman. “Now it’s my turn.”

Her mother tugged her hand free and smashed the tea bag against the side of the mug as if that would squeeze the bitterness from her voice, too. “You should be making your own life and not have to...”

Ava stopped her. “Don’t say it.”

“It doesn’t make it less true if I keep silent,” her mom said.

“Taking care of you has never been a burden,” Ava said. That’s what family did for each other.

Ava and her older brother had promised each other they’d protect their mom like their father never did. They’d vowed their mother would never be alone. Brett had cared for their mom while Ava had served her country. Now it was Ava’s turn to help her family.

“At least your brother dated and finally married.” Her mom’s words chased Ava into the bathroom.

She grabbed her mom’s afternoon meds and walked back to the family room.

Her brother would return from his internship in Washington, DC, before Thanksgiving. Then her mom could switch her attention to the possibility of a grandbaby and away from Ava’s lack of a dating life.

Ava was more than happy to leave dating to the unsuspecting singles in the city. The ones foolish enough to believe in love, who easily surrendered their hearts to a man. Ava wasn’t about to give her heart to any man. She couldn’t trust he’d stick around, and that’d only lead to heartbreak. She prided herself on being smart enough not to invite heartache into her life.

Her older brother would stick with his new wife, Meghan, through the good and bad, sickness and health, like he’d vowed on his wedding day last year. But Brett was the exception.

Men stuck until a true test came along. It was then they revealed their true heart. An argument or disagreement or relocation wasn’t life changing or a true test. However, a diagnosis of MS at the age of twenty-six with two children in diapers—that was life altering. That was a real test. One Ava’s dad had failed when he’d bailed out on his family. Life had gotten hard and suddenly more was expected from her father than he’d ever planned to take on. He’d run away: far and fast.

Ava refused to follow in her father’s fleeing footsteps. “I have a very full life. No dating or marriage required.”

“Working all the time is not a well-balanced life.” The spoon rattled against the plate under her mom’s tea mug, along with her mother’s disapproval.

Ava’s two jobs kept them in their three-bedroom apartment. Her jobs paid for the in-home nurse and therapists that helped care for her mom each week. Her jobs granted her brother and his new wife the opportunity to concentrate on starting their own family without worrying about their mother.

Except Ava had lost her second part-time job as a CPR instructor yesterday. The company had hired an intern full-time and no longer needed Ava. The extra paycheck had covered the costs of her mother’s medications and the utility bills. Ava hadn’t told her mom, refusing to give her mother any more worries. She’d figure out the finances.

Ava was determined to do what her father had failed to do: stick beside her mom every step of the way. If that meant she had to work more than an average forty-hour week, she’d do that and more for her family. “Well, this is the life I choose.”

“Roland tells me that balance is the key to happiness and contentment, which in turn leads to longevity in life.” Her mom’s voice was thoughtful and smooth like the honey she added to her tea.

“Roland also likes to say that stretching is the gateway to the soul.” Ava swiped a chocolate from the happy-face candy dish on the end table and aimed the tip of the chocolate kiss at her mom. “We both know that being able to curve your spine into a full backbend until your feet touch your head is painful and awkward. Hardly soul cleansing.”

Her mother’s laughter melted through Ava, satisfying her more than chocolate ever could.

“I admit there are a few things Roland says during our yoga sessions that don’t seem to apply to real life.” Her mom tossed another candy at her.

Ava caught the chocolate in her free hand.

Her mother dipped her chin and eyed the candies in each of Ava’s hands. “But he’s not wrong about the rewards of always seeking balance.”

“I’ll seek balance soon.” After she balanced her checkbook. Ava popped a chocolate into her mouth.

Maybe she wanted more or something different on those nights when reality and memories blurred into the same nightmare. But bullets ripped open flesh, no matter if the victim came from a battlefield or the city streets. People suffered whether from a lost limb after encountering an IED on a desert road or a miscarriage on the bathroom floor of a homeless shelter. Ava could help the wounded. Just like she helped her mom. She’d worry about herself later.

Her mother looked at Ava over her glasses and shook her head. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, but a good daughter.”

This was Ava’s world. Letting a guy in would upset the balance. Relationships required time that she didn’t have. She was already committed to her family and her work.

Her mom tugged on the drawer of the end table, but her fingers slipped, unable to keep her grip around the handle. Ava opened the drawer. Her mom had lost more strength, but not her spirit. Ava had to hold on to the positive like her mom always did. Ava was sure she’d find another job soon. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Take your time. Rick will be here within the hour. We’re playing Rummy.” Her mom took a deck of cards out of the drawer. One corner of her mouth kicked up with the cheer in her tone. “When you play cards with us, you ruin the fun by calling us out for cheating.”

Ava straightened, set her hands on her hips and frowned. Knowing Dan’s dad would be with her mom calmed her unease. Still, she’d take the tour of Kyle’s place and head back home. “When I win, I like to know that I earned it fair-and-square. Makes every win that much more rewarding and worthwhile.”

“Perhaps.” Her mom sorted the cards across the coffee table. “But Rick and I both cheat. Trying to outwit the other one makes the game more entertaining.”

The light moments offset the painful ones for both of them. Maybe Ava just had to discover more light moments. “Fine. Next time, I’ll cheat, too.”

The burst of surprised laughter from her mom bounced through the room, pulling Ava’s smile free.

“You have too much integrity to stoop so low.” Her mom nodded, her own smile lingering. “It’s one of your best qualities. Just don’t judge the rest of us too harshly.”

Ava shoved her phone and keys into her sling bag on the kitchen counter. “I don’t judge people.”

Her mother covered her cough of disagreement with a sip of tea.

“There’s nothing wrong with expecting people to be...better.” Ava had worked hard and sacrificed for everything she had. The easy road hadn’t been opened to her or her brother. She wouldn’t have taken it anyway. She didn’t operate that way. She struggled to understand people who seemed to have a lot of what her grandmother had used to call “quit” in them. Her father had too much quit in him.

“Well, today I plan to be a better cheater at Rummy than Rick,” her mom said.

Ava smiled. “Call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be more than fine.” Her mom waved her hand toward the door. “Get out and find some fun.”

Ava would prefer to find a help wanted sign. She blew her mom a kiss and took the stairs to the lobby. Outside, she paused on the sidewalk and tipped her face up toward the sky. Fall was one of her favorite seasons in the city. The sun warmed the city’s locals and the tourists scattered like fallen leaves swept away in the breeze. Ava crossed at the intersection to cut through the park.

A couple strolled along the paved path toward the fountain, their laughter entangled as tightly as their linked arms. A mother pushed a stroller while her young son scrambled after her, a balloon gripped in one hand, an ice cream cone in the other. Shouts echoed from a group of college students embroiled in a rambunctious game of flag football. Others lingered on blankets, books in hand, headphones plugged in, soaking in every ray of the bright Saturday sun. Ava kicked a soccer ball back to a father. His daughter skipped in front of a soccer goal made with orange cones, her ponytails swinging against her bright soccer jersey that matched her blue cleats. The park pulsed with fun, relaxed and easy and welcome. Ava kept walking, her steps rushed as if she feared the trees would join branches and prevent her escape, forcing her to stop. Forcing her to have fun.

She slowed her steps, crushing her ridiculous thoughts into the gravel with the heel of her running shoe. She could relax and enjoy a day in the park like everyone else. She simply chose not to.

Later, she’d stop and smell the roses at the floral shop’s outdoor stand on her walk to the Pampered Pooch. She wanted to see if her friend Sophie had any senior animals that needed fostering. Ava and her mom hadn’t fostered for several months, but they both always enjoyed the extra company of a senior rescue. Surely a four-legged friend in their house would add balance to Ava’s world.

Ava blamed her mom and Roland for her errant thoughts. She didn’t even attend yoga classes on a regular basis. Yet Roland’s affirmations about a fulfilled life followed her around like a shadow. She picked up her pace again, as if she needed to outrun her mom’s chiding laughter and Roland’s disappointment.

Who cared if she didn’t actively search for fun? She usually accepted extra hours at the hospital or filled in to teach a CPR class or worked a music festival to bolster her bank account. Then she slept better.

Surely the fact that she enjoyed teaching CPR and had discovered she liked both country music and indie rock counted for something. Roland would no doubt chide her to seek out more entertainment. If she graduated from a physician’s assistant school and transitioned to another career path, then she’d have the opportunity to find fun.

There wasn’t enough money to provide for her mom and get her graduate degree.

Even more, there was nothing appealing about putting herself first and being as selfish as her own father. Her family came first. Always. If that meant fun waited on the back burner, so be it.

She’d be grateful for what she had and not mourn a life that wasn’t meant for her.

That would be enough. She’d make sure of it.

Ava hurried across the street, leaving the park and her private wishes behind, among the trees and birds.

CHAPTER THREE

KYLE CHECKED HIS recent call log and his emails for the tenth time in the past twenty minutes. Not that he could’ve missed a call. He’d woken up before sunrise, clutching his cell phone, and he hadn’t put it down even to eat lunch earlier. Yesterday, he’d called and messaged a dozen former developers and business associates about judging his contest. No one had replied. No one.

He couldn’t judge the contest he’d created. The contest he planned to use to keep from defaulting on his own contract.

Canceling wasn’t an option. The press releases had gone out. Hits on the webpage had multiplied into the thousands overnight. More headlines and sound bites had hit the TV and radio news spots all morning. Kyle couldn’t turn back. He needed to keep his reputation intact and run a viable contest, not some hoax that the public would conclude was no more than a publicity stunt. The press liked to speculate about his next PR blitz as if his Medi-Spy creation had only been for attention. Yesterday’s newspaper had claimed a reality TV show was his latest pursuit.

He paced through his second-floor suite, ignoring the theater room and the arcade room, instead seeking refuge in the design lab. He shouldn’t have invited Ben and his family over. He shouldn’t have translated Ben’s car game into a contest. He should’ve left the photo shoot last weekend and returned to his lab. But it was too late for what he should’ve done.

Right now, he shouldn’t be dropping into the industrial office chair and pressing the button to print more contest flyers as if he’d suddenly decided to hone his marketing skills. He should be scanning his brain for an idea. He only needed one.

What was wrong with him?

The groan of the printer spitting out copies matched the groan of panic rolling through him. He shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, closed his eyes and drew in a breath that lifted his entire rib cage and made his stomach bloat. His older sister had taught him how to breathe, claiming he needed to learn to breathe with more mindfulness. More intention.

He counted to five. Nothing quieted those jitters skipping around inside him.

Another five-count and still nothing within him unwound. Only his to-do list flashed across his eyelids. At the top: create an invention.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Kyle exhaled and lost any intention of quieting his mind.

He clicked the answer button on his notepad propped beside the computer. His little sister’s face with her clear lab goggles propped on her head like a new-age headband filled the screen. Kyle dropped the stack of flyers onto the work table in the center of the design lab, set a 3-D printed piggy bank on the stack and walked with the notepad into his so-called inspiration area.

“Still moping around, all alone in your steroid-infused man cave?” Callie adjusted the oversize goggles on her head.

“It’s my home.” And his offices. He skipped his gaze over the large room filled with both vintage and contemporary arcade games. Darkness and silence leaked from the connecting theater room, yet not the good kind of dark for movie watching or that quiet anticipation before the final fight scene. He’d transformed the entire second floor of the building into the ideal work and living space. He blamed the sandwich he’d eaten for lunch on his sudden indigestion.

Kyle frowned at the computer screen. Although it was wasted on his little sister. Her focus had already returned to her microscope. He asked, “Did you want something? I have company coming over soon.”

That captured her attention. She blinked once at the screen, slow and methodical, like an owl. Only, owls held their silence; his sister had no such filter. “You don’t have people over to your place. Except for the rooftop, but that doesn’t count since you don’t live up there. People are never invited inside your home.”

No thanks to Callie. In her clear-cut manner, Callie had asked how he’d know if people came to visit him or his ultimate man cave? Friends might like his man cave more than him. He’d chosen to do what he’d always done: keep to himself. Except today, he’d stepped out of his comfort zone. Hopefully, he hadn’t lost his mind at the photo shoot. “I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“You can’t get distracted now.” Callie’s eyebrows pinched together, and she shuffled papers around on her desk. “You only have forty-one days before you need to hand in your second idea.”

His sister had a memory like a vault. One time, in a passing phone conversation, he’d mentioned the terms of his contract. She hadn’t forgotten one detail. “It’s under control.”

Callie leaned closer to the computer screen as if to study him like a petri dish under one of her microscopes. “You aren’t still pining for the past, are you? The days when you were unknown, unremarkable and an amateur.”

That was the life she’d told him no longer existed. The one she’d told him he’d never get back. He dropped into one of the oversize leather chairs and set the notepad on the flat, wide arm of the chair. “I can have friends.”

Confusion thinned her gaze and her mouth. Of course, Callie had skipped her senior year in high school to enroll in college and then fast-tracked her way into graduate school to become a medical scientist. She would earn both her MD and PhD titles behind her name in the next year, as long as Kyle kept his contract with Tech Realized, Inc. and paid her tuition.

“How many times do I need to remind you that if you hadn’t sold out, you’d still be wasting away in Mom and Dad’s basement, a wannabe inventor, living off Dad’s meager retirement?” She grimaced as if her test results proved inconclusive.

Now he lived in a man cave on steroids and was poised to lose everything. Was that somehow better? “This isn’t about high school reunions and old times.”

“That’s a relief.” Callie sighed. “You and I aren’t team players. We can’t conquer the world with apologies and regrets.”

Kyle wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to conquer the world. He’d wanted to design something that could keep people from suffering. People like his grandfather. Callie, he knew, had other plans for her life. Plans that depended on his continued funding. And those depended on his next big idea. “I’ll make the tuition payment soon.”

She looked at him as if she’d never doubted that would happen. As it always happened on the third Thursday of every month. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve been invited to continue my medical research at Oxford once I receive my doctorate degrees.”

“But that’s in England.” And nowhere near San Francisco or her family.

“It’s one of the premiere research facilities in the world.” Excitement widened her brown eyes.

How could she be thrilled about living in another country, so far away from her family? How could he not be happy for her opportunity to continue her life’s work? “Have you told Mom and Dad?”

“They’re ecstatic. At least from what I could tell.” Callie tapped a pencil against her bottom lip as if she struggled to work out the exact sequence of a DNA genome strand. “They were walking on the beach. Mom found a giant sea shell with only a small chip. Maybe they were cheering about that.” She paused, grabbed a notepad and scribbled across the paper.

Kyle waited. His sister spoke in logical order. But her thoughts always came out in scattered spurts like air in a waterline. He’d always assumed her genius brain never quieted. If she didn’t pause to record her thoughts every so often, she might miss the next big medical breakthrough.

Finally, Callie blinked into the screen. “No, I’m sure Mom wished me safe travels and Dad wanted hotel recommendations in the area. Or maybe that was the couple with them. I think they’re planning a trip up the Gulf Coast. Doesn’t matter. Oxford wants me.”

Kyle wanted to wish his sister well. Share her excitement. But only sadness circled through him.

Four years ago, their grandfather had died unexpectedly, and their family had splintered without the glue that had been Papa Quinn. Kyle had inherited his grandpa’s vintage 1965 Mustang. Along with the last of his grandfather’s wisdom on a handwritten note left inside the Mustang’s glove box: “When you take a wrong turn, Kyle, a guiding hand and full heart will lead you home where you belong.”

Kyle’s family had taken several wrong turns after Papa Quinn’s passing, and the distance between his family had only widened further. Then Kyle had signed his contract with Tech Realized, Inc. Honoring his grandfather’s memory had filled his bank account. The money he’d always intended to help guide his family back together.

Now he funded dual degrees that would only take his sister farther from home. Worry mixed with the sadness. She was a scientist, not an experienced world traveler. How was he supposed to protect her from a continent away? He should protect her. She’d always been there for him in grade school. More than once, she’d stepped in to deflect the bullies’ attention off him and on to her with her oversize books and even thicker bottle-size glasses.

The buzzer from the street entrance hummed through the suite. Kyle tucked his concern away, certain he’d come up with something to entice his little sister home. Something like her own research lab, custom built to her specifications. “That’s my company.”

Callie had already returned to her notepad and had pulled her microscope into view. “Don’t be like Iris and get distracted, Kyle. Send them away and get back to what really matters. You can’t lose focus of what’s really important.”

With that, Callie clicked off. No “I love you.” No “talk to you soon.” No “I hope you visit me in England.” Only an order to work and a caution not to be like their oldest sister, Iris. Kyle’s problem was he struggled to focus on what was important: a new idea.

He checked his emails on the way to the entrance. Still no response from his potential judges. Not even a terse thank-you, or any thank-you at all. He’d take his sister’s advice. Offer a quick tour and then send the trio waiting outside on their way. They’d understand he had to work. If they didn’t, what would it matter? They weren’t friends, and this was a onetime offer.

He pressed the button to unlock the main entrance door that led into the lobby and spoke through the intercom, telling them to come up to the second floor.

Kyle opened the door to the suite and welcomed his guests inside. He would’ve explained his plans to work that afternoon if Ben hadn’t disrupted the silence with a drawn-out whoa.

Kyle shut the door and turned around to find the young boy bouncing from one foot to the other, his gaze darting around the suite. Ben never moved from his father’s side, as if he waited for a referee to blow a start whistle to let the games begin.