The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender(54)

At the end of the Coopers’ driveway, Cardigan grabbed me and gave me a tight squeeze. “We’re going to be sisters-in-law!” she yelled over the rain, then ran to her house.

If not for a dim glow in the first-floor windows, my house would have looked like just another dark part of the sky. I glanced up at the black second-story windows. I smiled at the thought of sleeping Henry, his fingers curled around the edge of his quilt. I checked my pocket for the chocolate I’d gotten him, making sure it hadn’t melted. The woman at the booth had told me that chocolate came from the Mayans, an ancient people who believed that drinking hot chocolate could bring them wisdom and power. They considered it the food of their gods. I had laughed at the thought of the Mayan gods ripping open little bags of powdered cocoa to stir into warm mugs of milk, but the woman had said the Mayans made their hot chocolate from cacao beans and that they called it xocoatl. I didn’t know if Henry would actually like the sweet, but I knew he would appreciate the new word I’d learned.

The sound of a car door made me jump. At the side of the house, I saw the taillights of Gabe’s truck lit up, glowing red in the dark and the rain. Gabe hadn’t been home for a few days. I tried not to think about where he might be. Whom he might be with.

The truck disappeared around the back of the house. I ran to hide as it careened down the hill and into the road. I stayed hidden until it had driven away.

“Your mother seems frantic to find you.”

I whirled around.

Nathaniel Sorrows stood behind me, holding a black umbrella over his head.

“It can’t be my mother,” I shouted through the rain. My mother hadn’t left the house in fifteen years. She didn’t even know how to drive, did she?

“She’d probably say the same thing about you if she saw you out here right now.”

I blushed. He had a point.

“It is her, nonetheless,” he said. “I saw her leave the house and get into the truck.”

“But what makes you think she’s gone out looking for me?” I asked quietly.

Nathaniel shrugged. “Why else would she leave?”

As I thought of the few things that could motivate my mother to venture out from the security of the house on the hill, like discovering that her daughter had snuck out without permission, dread slashed through my chest like a knife. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I go home and wait for her to come back? Go to Cardigan’s? But then I thought about how angry my mother would be, the injured look on her face when she realized what I’d done. I wanted to avoid seeing that look for as long as possible.

As if reading my mind, Nathaniel said, “Why don’t you come inside? I have a fire going. You can dry off here while you wait for her to get back.” He smiled.

I chewed my lip and thought. I could always go over to the Coopers’ house, but as lenient as Cardigan’s father was, he probably wouldn’t be pleased I’d snuck out. I might even get Cardigan in trouble.

Nathaniel was watching me patiently. He seemed different, I noted. Less pious. More normal. Not nearly as attractive as I thought he was. With a twinge of shame, I remembered my infatuation of only a few weeks ago. What had I been thinking?

“There’s little point to getting reprimanded for sneaking out and the dangers of pneumonia. I know how mothers can be. I could be of some assistance,” he said, “determine some way you could explain your momentary disappearance.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said finally.





MY GRANDMOTHER was in the back of the bakery, trying to keep up with the demand brought on by the solstice celebration. It seemed no matter how many trays Penelope slipped into the display case, there were still hungry mouths to feed. So feed them they did. éclairs au chocolat, mille-?feuille, paté sucrée. They’d even designed a special solstice cookie shaped like the sun and topped with yellow frosting. While taking a moment’s break, Emilienne watched with pride as the girls carefully folded boxes around purchases, rang up orders, made change, smiled at impatient customers — all with efficient grace. Emilienne chuckled to herself. It was hardly appropriate to refer to them as girls. Wilhelmina had helped her run the bakery for more than thirty years now, and Penelope’s children were both teenagers. While her own reflection constantly shocked her — the delicate wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, the coarse white wisps of hair threading through the black — Emilienne didn’t notice how time had changed the women with whom she’d spent every day for so many years.

In the front of the store, Ignatius Lux flirted with Penelope as she tied the string around his purchase with a flourish. That poor husband of hers, Emilienne thought with a smile. Penelope’s marriage to Zeb Cooper could have been a rocky one, considering Penelope’s flirtatious manner, but Zeb was a trusting fellow and adored his playful wife. From what Emilienne had been able to tell, they’d also done a good job raising their children. Both Cardigan and Rowe have proven to be good friends to Ava, she thought. Rowe would turn eighteen in a couple of months. He’d leave for college soon after. How time flies, Emilienne mused. Though it meant losing her delivery driver, she was glad to see that Rowe wanted to do something with his life beyond driving a truck full of baked goods. He was smart, that one.

Wilhelmina, toting another empty tray over her head, brushed by Emilienne. “That Ignatius Lux just bought the last congolais,” she said. The coconut biscuit was a customer favorite.