Read Ava Comes Home Online

Authors: Lesley Crewe

Tags: #ebook, #book

Ava Comes Home (39 page)

“Was he a drunk?”

His father pointed at him with his glass. “Don't get lippy.”

Seamus kept quiet. Kenny nodded his head as if he'd told him off. Very proud he was. He took another drink. Seamus watched the amber rum in his glass. He could see right through it thanks to the fire in the fireplace behind his dad. It glowed, and was something to look at besides his old man. He thought of Libby the night they had a bonfire on the beach with their friends. She stood on the opposite side of it at one point and he watched her through the flames. The firelight lit up her face. She was young and happy and she blew him a kiss when she noticed him staring at her.

His father said something.

“What?”

“Ya gotta face like a dog's dinner. What the hell are you mopin' about now?”

Seamus didn't answer him. He wanted to go home.

“You were always mopin' as a kid. Run to your mother for any little thing. Christ, it was sickening.”

“Don't start talking about Mom.”

“I'll talk about her if I want. She was my wife. You can't stop me from talkin' about her.”

“All right, I'm sorry. Drink up and we'll go.”

“You're always tryin' to shut me up.”

“It doesn't often work.”

His father screwed up his face. “You always did think you were better than me. Why is that?”

This was a really bad time to have to sit and listen to bullshit. Seamus's headache returned and he wanted his kids. He rubbed his forehead.

His father suddenly slapped the arm of the chair. “Jesus Christ. I know what it is. Don't tell me you're still boohooin' about that little bitch.”

Seamus looked at his father from under his eyelashes.

“For fuck's sake, get over it. It's embarrassing.”

“Don't talk about Libby. Not tonight.”

“Here we go again. Telling me what I can and cannot talk about. I can talk about that little bitch as long as I want.”

“Dad.”

His father took another swig. “Seamus, you have got to be the dumbest guy I ever come across. You couldn't hang onto her ten years ago and apparently she's fucked off on you again.”

“How do you know that?”

He circled his glass in the air. “Somebody told me. Who gives a shit?”

“I'm not going to discuss her with you, so drink up and let's go.”

“No wonder you don't wanna talk about her. Christ, rejected twice. You're a loser, my son, a big fat loser.”

Seamus felt his hands tighten into fists. Stay cool, he told himself. His father laughed at him. Seamus saw his smirk through the glass. “I think it's pretty easy to figure out why she don't want ya. You're a sooky boy. A girl like her don't wanna sooky boy. She needed a real man to teach her a thing or two. The little slut.”

The words shot through Seamus's skull like bullets. Bam! Bam! Bam! Before the thought became a thought, Seamus let out a guttural yell and sprang from his seat. He was on top of his father in an instant, grabbing him by the throat as they fell backwards out of the chair. The glass of rum flew through the air and smashed against the fireplace as they rolled around on the floor.

His father lay under him.

“You fucking bastard. It was you. It was you!”

His hands squeezed his father's throat. Kenny tore at his neck. “No. No!”

“You raped her! You raped her, you fucking bastard.”

“No.”

Seamus picked his head up by the shirt and brought him to his face. “You tell me, you son of a bitch or I'll kill you.”

His father struggled. “No. She's lying.”

“Tell me.” He squeezed his throat as hard as he could. His father went purple before Seamus let up.

He gasped, “Okay, okay, but she was gaggin' for it, I swear.”

Seamus slammed his father's head off the hardwood floor. Again and again he pounded it into the floor.

When Colleen heard the crash, she and the kids became frightened. She didn't want to open the door. She ran to the window, threw it up and screamed for Dave. He ran out of the garage. “What's wrong?”

“He's killing him! He's killing him!”

“Keep the kids in the bedroom,” Dave yelled and ran into the house. Seamus had his father by the throat. There was blood on the floor.

Dave grabbed his arms from behind. “Seamus. Get off him.”

“I'm going to fucking kill him!”

“He's not worth it, Seamus. He's not worth it.”

“I don't care.” He struggled against Dave's arms.

Dave yanked him away. “Think of your kids, Seamus. They can't lose their dad!”

It was as if the will suddenly seeped out of him. He got up, stumbling over his father's body, and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve. He pointed a finger at his old man, who was curled up into a fetal position, moaning.

“If you ever come near me or my kids again, I'll kill you. I'll shoot you right between the eyes, you filthy bastard.”

Dave held his arm. “Go. I'll take care of this.”

As Seamus stepped over him, his father cringed. Seamus kept going right out the door.

“He's crazy,” Kenny whimpered. “He nearly killed me.”

“What have you done, you pathetic old man?”

“He's crazy.”

Colleen peeked out of the bedroom. “Dave. Dave! You stay with the kids. They're scared. I'll deal with him.”

Dave walked towards her. “What the hell happened?”

“I'm not sure. Just take the kids and don't let them see anything.” They traded places. She ran to her father. “Why, Dad? Why did this happen? What did you say to him?”

“Help me, Colleen,” he pleaded. “My head—”

She ran to get a cloth and applied it to the back of his head. “How can you do this to us again? Why? It's not fair. You're killing us.”

Her father started to cry and rock back and forth. “He tried to kill me.”

“Why? Why?”

“I didn't mean to do it. I didn't,” he whimpered.

“What Dad? What?”

“Libby.”

Colleen put her head down closer to his. “Libby? What about her?”

“I didn't mean it,” he blubbered. “He always had everything. Your mother loved him. She loved him more than me. He was the captain of his hockey team. Anything he ever did, he always got what he wanted. And then he got her.”

“Libby?”

Her father's face contorted on the floor. “YES! He had her. He always had everything. I just wanted some of it.”

Colleen's addled brain suddenly put two and two together. Her skin crawled. She backed up on her knees. “No.”

“You gotta forgive me, Colleen.”

“No. Tell me you didn't. Tell me you didn't rape her.”

“I only wanted a taste. I only wanted what he had. Just a little.” He broke down again and cried out. “Forgive me, Colleen. Forgive me.”

She tried to get up but found she couldn't stand. She clutched her stomach and then put her hand on the couch to pull herself up. “You're a monster.” She didn't know where to turn. She looked at him writhing on the floor. “You only wanted what he had? He never had her! He never did. That was something they were saving, something precious and innocent and you took it from them. You took their gift to each other away. You took it away forever! Do you know how she suffered? Do you have any idea? And all those times Seamus was crying, Where is she? Where is she? You knew. You had to know she left because of you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Did you know you got her pregnant? Did you know that? Did you know she had to have an abortion to get rid of your baby?”

“No, no!”

“You disgust me. I never want to see your face again. And I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm glad Mom's dead. This would have killed her, killed her! She loved Libby. She used to tell me that—how happy she was that her son found someone so wonderful.”

He curled up into a smaller ball. “Forgive me.”

She stood over him. “Ask God to forgive you, Dad, because Seamus and I never will.”

Colleen ran out of the room. Where was her brother? Where was poor Seamus? She raced through the kitchen and out the back door. Please God, he didn't drive away.

He was on his hands and knees in the driveway, retching.

She ran down the stairs and knelt beside him. “Oh my God, Seamus. My God.”

He couldn't do anything but let the saliva hang out of his mouth. His nose ran and his eyes were closed shut with his tears.

“Help me.”

She held his shoulders. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened. How could this have happened?”

“He hurt her. He hurt her so bad and she never told me. All these years, she kept it inside.”

“I know, honey, shhh.”

“She was alone. Oh my god, I'm going to die, Colleen. I wanna die.”

“No, sweetheart.”

“I can't bear it.” He suddenly sat up on his knees and held his fists to sky. He screamed, “LIBBY!”

Her name echoed over the fir trees and was swept away with the wind, over the churning ocean.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hayden left in the morning, saying he'd meet her at the studio.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Don't you mean okay, or see ya later or God, you're such a tiger in bed, Hayden?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. “Ciao, babe.” He walked out the door eating a piece of toast, but before he shut the door he turned back. “Now remember, it's nothing to worry about. You're going to be fine.” He waved to her over his shoulder.

She got up from the table with a cup of coffee and looked out the window at the traffic. “Yes, I'll be fine. I'm good at rape.” She sighed, took the last swig of coffee and headed for the bathroom. She was showered and dressed by the time Lola, Maurice, and Harold arrived for their grand reunion.

The girls flew into each other's arms. “God, I've missed you,” Lola said.

“Oh, me too. You have no idea.”

She let Lola go to embrace the boys. When Maurice turned to Ava, he kissed her cheeks four times. “Two are for you and two are for Aunt Vi.”

“Oh, just a minute.” She ran to the carry-all and took out the baking. “They've been out of the freezer for a couple of days, but they should still be fresh.”

“That marvelous woman,” Harold trilled, clapping his hands.

They agreed they needed an Aunt Vi fix immediately, so Ava poured more coffee and they sat around the table. She opened the can of blueberry muffins and the fabulous smell hit her like a fist, right between the eyes. She dropped the can, unable to breathe. They jumped up around her.

“What's wrong?” Lola shouted.

“Call 911,” Harold screamed.

Maurice gently turned her towards him. “Slow breaths Ava. Look at me. Slow.”

She followed his hand up and down. Her breathing eventually returned to normal. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, honey.” Maurice sat her down again and rubbed her shoulders. Lola gave him a look and he held his finger to his lips behind Ava's head and mouthed “Tell you later.” He sat next to her. “You okay now, sweetheart?”

Ava brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Yes, sorry. It just caught me off guard.”

“It's only natural,” Maurice reassured her.

“Excuse me a moment. I think I'll go splash some water on my face.” She left the room in a hurry. Lola and Harold quickly sat down and leaned towards him.

“What on earth was that?” Lola asked.

“A panic attack. She gets them sometimes. You have to tell her to remember to breathe, that's all.”

“I've seen her flustered before, but not stop breathing. That's scary.”

“It doesn't happen often. I wonder what's been going on.”

“She spent the day with stuffed shirts yesterday,” Harold sniffed. “Anyone would stop breathing with them in the room.”

Lola shook her head. “No. It was as soon as she smelled the baking. It was the reminder of Aunt Vi's kitchen. God love her. She must miss them so. I'm worried about her. She looks pale.”

Harold nodded. “She does look rather fragile.”

Maurice crossed his arms across his chest. “We'll have to be ever vigilant today, people. Protect her at all costs. Don't let idiots have access to her.”

“I guess she better not show up on the set at all,” Lola smirked.

By then Ava came back and she looked a little better. “Sorry, guys. Just a couple of late nights.”

Maurice wagged his finger at her. “Well, it's in bed early for you tonight.”

“I'm in bed all day.”

“What's the scene?” Lola asked.

“Originally it was a lover's quarrel, but Nigel, the boy genius director, wants to replace it with a rape scene.”

They looked at her. Maurice was the first to speak. “But you hate that stuff.”

“I know.”

“And they insisted?”

She nodded.

“That's ridiculous,” Lola blustered. “It doesn't have anything to do with the story!”

Ava corrected her. “That's where you're wrong. It has everything to do with the young audience they want to attract.”

“Rape attracts people? How revolting,” Harold grumbled.

“It's exciting, apparently. For the viewers. Some viewers.” She tore little bits off her napkin.

“This is going to be a fun day,” Lola scowled.

“I suppose it's a bit of a consolation that Hayden is your co-star,” Maurice said. “It could've been that moron who wanted big boobs.” He looked at his watch. “We better get a move on. Our goodies will have to wait. It can be our reward at the end of this ordeal.”

The four friends left the hotel room and headed for the location— an old brownstone on the Upper East Side. They were whisked in past the usual assortment of crew, some of whom they knew from previous productions. It was organized chaos. Ava sat in Maurice's chair and went over the script while listening to Lola prattle on about what she did and who she saw when she was at home. While Maurice tended to her poor damaged locks, Lola wanted to know what Ava had done to occupy herself while she was gone.

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