Winter Solstice (Winter #4)(50)
“What is it?” Potter says.
“Thanksgiving,” Ava says. “We’ve been invited to California.”
“What?” Potter says. “Invited to California? By whom?”
“By Harrison and Trish,” Ava says. “Oh, and by PJ.”
“What?” Potter says.
Ava starts laughing. She’s not laughing because anything is funny. She’s laughing because she has already messed this up. She went at it backward. How is she supposed to explain things in reverse?
“I can’t go,” Ava says. “I have to be on Nantucket with my father. But you…” Here she attempts a playful punch to Potter’s arm. “You should go. You need to go.”
“To California,” Potter says.
“We were invited,” Ava says. “By Harrison and PJ. And by Trish, too, although that was more…implied, I guess you’d say.” Is that right? Ava wonders. She occasionally mixes up imply and infer.
“I think you’ve had a little too much to—”
“No!” Ava interrupts him. “I mean, yes. I have had too much to drink, most definitely, but this is real. This is really real. On Tuesday afternoon Harrison and PJ FaceTimed me…”
“What?” Potter says.
She can’t be derailed. “… and they invited us to California for Thanksgiving. I told them I can’t go because my father is dying, but I told them you’d be there. I promised you’d be there. Harrison was supposed to call you himself. He was going to call on Tuesday night, but you were teaching and then he had to teach at four. I thought he said he was going to call you, but now I think maybe I was supposed to pass the invite along.”
“How did Harrison or PJ get your number?” Potter asks.
“Did you hear me? I promised them you’d be there. So tomorrow morning we need to book you some flights.”
“Ava,” Potter says.
“I gave my number to Harrison,” Ava says. “He asked me for my number when he and Trish showed up that day and Harrison and I went down to the lobby with PJ.”
Potter doesn’t respond. He’s no longer looking at Ava; instead he’s looking out the taxi’s window at the blocks of Park Avenue South rushing past. Grand Central looms in front of them.
“Harrison said he had an idea, something that might help things with PJ. I wasn’t even sure what he was talking about, but now I know he planned on FaceTiming me with PJ and pretending like Harrison and I were friends so that PJ would feel less threatened.”
“I can’t believe this,” Potter says. “You gave Harrison your number. Because stealing my wife wasn’t enough. Now he wants to steal away my girlfriend. Who, I would like to point out, is far more precious to me than said wife ever was.”
Revisionist history, Ava thinks. Even so, she feels a surge of joy at the declaration.
“It wasn’t like that,” Ava says. “Harrison felt sorry for me because PJ was being so difficult.” Ava pauses. Potter can’t deny that his son was difficult. “And his plan worked. When they called me, PJ talked to me. He said hello and good-bye, and he told me he built a roller coaster on Minecraft. He talked to me, Potter. Harrison got him to talk to me.”
“Harrison,” Potter says, “was overstepping his bounds. This is none of Harrison’s business. What is he doing other than confusing my child? You’re Harrison’s friend and that’s okay. You’re my friend and that’s not okay? Do you see how warped this is?”
Ava has a hard time coming up with a rebuttal that won’t insult Potter. What she wants to say is that PJ trusts Harrison; whether Potter likes it or not, Harrison has influence. Harrison’s endorsement matters and Ava needs it.
Instead what she says is, “I grew up with divorced parents. You’ve only known Kelley and Mitzi and Margaret and Drake since they’ve been best friends. It wasn’t always that way. There were lots of years when Mitzi hated my mother, and do you know who those years were the hardest on? Me and Paddy and Kevin. It’s hardest on the kids, who have to split allegiances, who overhear one parent they love and trust talking badly about another parent they love and trust. Kids feel the animosity, they sense the competition, envy, and judgment. I don’t think that divorce necessarily ruins a childhood, but a bitter divorce can. We are the adults, Potter. We can choose to be agreeable. Now, I’m not saying we will ever be best friends with Trish and Harrison…”
“We won’t,” Potter says.
“… but we can aspire to be civil. To be friendly, even. It’ll make things better for PJ. Don’t you want to make things better for PJ?”
“Yes,” Potter says. “Of course I do.”
Ava lets her head fall onto Potter’s shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll look for your plane ticket.”
KELLEY
Lara downloads Danielle Steel’s Dangerous Games for Kelley because he can no longer see the screen of his phone well enough to download books himself.
“I understand this is her best one yet,” Lara says. “A political thriller.”
Kelley feels a pulse of excitement, but it’s fleeting. He won’t be able to follow the twists and turns of a political thriller; the main appeal now is the comforting sound of the narrator’s voice.