From Chicago. Ever.” Her mother took a step forward. “I’ve been worried sick about you, and all I get are nothing updates.”
“But I’m here now. I’ll get better.” Avery shook her head. “I’ll do better. You can see me doing whatever it is you’ve been dying to know but have missed out on.” Lately, that meant catching up on a lot of sleep. What were they talking about?
“Avery,” her mother said as she stepped up next to the couch, “do you want to get better? You don’t go out, you don’t eat, you haven’t talked to your old friends or... All you do is sleep. Do you want to get better?” She eased down on the cushion next to Avery’s ripped jeans. “Honestly.”
“Of course,” Avery said without hesitation. What was the other choice?
Her mother nodded. “It’s that...” She unwound one arm and pinched her nose, the old trick they both used to dry up tears. “I was afraid you meant to...stop. To stop everything there in your favorite place in the world. To give up.”
Avery could not figure out what they were talking about. “How would I have gotten home? You mean, sit there and...” Avery studied her mother’s grim face and the tears that were making a lie of the old trick. “...die?” Nausea rolled through Avery.
“I tried to prepare Sam for the fact that might be the plan.” Her mother wrapped her hands in her robe. “They handle things they shouldn’t have to.”
Avery straightened with a snap. “You told Sam you were afraid I was going to...” Avery paused to try one more time to figure out any legitimate reason this conversation would be going the way it was. “You told him I was going to kill myself at the Falls?” The hard burst of pain behind her collarbone shocked a gasp out of Avery. She’d been through enough pain that it was easy to live with now. She’d become a master at the slow grind of devastating grief, but this sharp jab of disappointment or embarrassment or shame or some confused combination of all three made it hard to breathe.
Aware of the ragged gasps coming from her mouth, Avery covered her lips with one hand and wiped away a tear with the other. “What?”
“I never would have believed it possible, but I was afraid I was about to lose you.”
Her mom wilted in front of her.
“Growing up, you and Sam both, I worried you might kill yourselves in some kind of stunt, trying to outdo each other racing up the mountain or even climbing that oak tree.” Her mother sighed. “And that would have been terrible, but losing you because you couldn’t go on living... I’m not sure how I’d survive.”
Since her mother had always had enough energy and firm enough opinions to fill two petite women, Avery understood immediately how afraid she’d been. She would feel the same way if she found out her mother had lost as much weight as she had.
Add to that the inability to fill her days with anything other than sleeping or staring out the window, and Avery would have checked her mother in somewhere, worried to death about the changes to her personality.
“Why didn’t you talk to me, Mama?” Avery asked.
“What would you have said? You were always doing fine. I was silly to worry so much. I needed to find something else to do with my time.” Her mother stood to pace. “And some of that’s even true, but now, tonight, you and I are about to make a change. You cain’t go on like this, Avery Anne.” The pleading in her mother’s eyes didn’t quite match her firm tone, but Avery could tell this was important. She couldn’t brush it off.
“Fine. We’ll make a change.” Avery ran a hand through her messy hair. “I went up that mountain hoping to find some direction, the answer to your favorite question. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I hoped for some revelation. Instead, I got a rescue.”
Her mother snorted. “Think answers land with lightning bolts, do you? What did you figure out?”
“When I was seventeen, I won a race to the top of the falls.” Avery ran a hand through her curls. “I cheated. I had to cheat to beat Sam by that point. He had a foot in height and I don’t know how much in muscle on me, so I tricked him into heading back to the parking area for something and I started climbing. When he made it to the top, I was stretched out on the flat rock there, grinning like a mule with a mouth full of briars.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “I don’t doubt it. You have always loved to win.”
“That’s what Sam said.” Avery laughed. “As if he’s ever been any better.” She eased back against the pillows. “We argued over the ‘rules’ of the race. Since we neither one of us ever worried much about losing, they were hazy as usual, and I wiggled my way out of every one of his objections.” Her smile faded. “He told me then a shark like me ought to make a killing as a lawyer.”
Her mother nodded but she didn’t add any of the usual comments about how she couldn’t accept a girl who’d worked her way through college and law school had given up before graduation to follow a man. Really, Avery had heard it so often she should be inured to it by now.
But at this point in her life, when nothing had worked out like she wanted, it was hard to imagine how she could have let herself get sidetracked from her own plans.
“That’s the first thing you do, go back to school and get that law degree,” her mother said as she fussed over the rip in Avery’s jeans. “You and Sam have slowed down on the dumb dares, but I was pretty sure one or the other of you would need a good lawyer someday.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Avery tried to imagine what it would be like to go back to school at this point. Where would she even start? She’d gotten home, her plan to never leave again. To finish her law degree, that plan would go out the window.
“I don’t know, Mama. I need to do more thinking on it.” It would be easy to fall back to her original plan. Her mother would stop worrying so much. She had the money to finish up the degree. But nothing about the suggestion filled her with any spark, not like the first time she’d grabbed ahold of it.
Her mother stood. “That’s all well and good, girl, because I’m not ready for you to leave again, not yet. We’ll get there, but not yet.” Her mother studied her closely. “I’ll go get you some ibuprofen and water. You need to be drinking some water. Dehydration is no joke.”
“Wait.” Before she could turn away, Avery grabbed her mother’s hand. They hadn’t resolved her worry, not really. Avery wasn’t certain she had the right words, but she had to try. “You were worried I was ready to give up, and I was sitting on the fence.” Avery licked her dry lips and wished for some of the water everyone was pushing on her. “But I did get a revelation, Mama. After Sam showed up, I was mad as a worn-out rag could be, but I knew in my head I could get myself down from the mountain. I didn’t need him carrying me.”
Her mother raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn’t argue.
“I would have done it.” Avery firmed her lips and raised her chin. “I could have done it because I’d already made it through the hard part. To get back to level ground and the real world, all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other. Climbing to the top? That was the hardest part, and it was so challenging I’m ashamed of myself for how weak I’ve let myself become. But getting down? That’s nothing. All I have to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other because I’ve already made it through the hardest part. You get it?”
