Ava's Prize

“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 (#u312b7689-1e40-5082-a26e-897a07ae939c)

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.”