Dying to Love Her Read online

  “Ava, are you with us?”

  I blinked out of my trance and looked at my mother. Just because my mind wandered for a few seconds didn’t mean I wasn’t in the room. Okay, well I wasn’t quite there, but thinking about Drew and how far I’ve come with him always makes me daydream.

  I look at her and say, “Sorry just thinking about some things, but I’m here.”

  “Good...had me worried there for a minute.”

  I turn my attention away from her to stop Drew from gnawing on the edge of the table. He whines, but becomes quiet once I hand him his juice-filled sippy cup.

  “Hey, Mom, do you think I’m a good mother?” I inquire. That’s something I often wondered about because, ever since I moved out of my mother’s home and relocated to Charlotte, she’s been acting a little weird around me. It’s hard to explain it, but I’ll try. You know how you can tell someone isn’t really happy with your choices in life but they don’t say anything, fearing they would upset you? Well, that’s how I feel when she’s around.

  “Oh dear, I think you’re an excellent mother. You do all you’re physically able to do for Drew.”

  “I know, but I wonder if I’m giving him a good life. I’m always working and I feel like he barely sees me some days. I don’t want my child growing up without knowing me...without remembering me.”

  “Ava, you wouldn’t have to work so hard if you moved back to Raleigh. That way I can be right there to help you with Drew.”

  “No, Mom, that’s not what I mean. And I don’t need help with Drew.”

  “Well you just said you don’t see him as often as you would like.”

  “Yes, because I have two jobs,” I say, holding up two fingers for emphasis.

  The waitress returns, takes our orders.

  My mother ordered her prized butternut squash ravioli, and I ordered a chicken salad.

  Mom was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the waitress to walk away and when she’s a few steps away from our table, she looks at me and says, “That’s the problem, dear. You don’t need to be working so hard. You’re burning yourself out and if you keep going, and going and going, you’re going to make your situation even worse.”

  My situation...

  “You know what...I should not have said anything,” I say.

  “Ava, don’t get upset, dear. I’m just telling you that I think you’re working too hard.”

  “First off, I’m not going, and going, and going, Mother. I’m not the freakin’ Energizer bunny. I have moments to rest. I work hard because I have a child to support.”

  “I realize that, I do, but if you moved back to Raleigh, I could help you. Then you could only work one job if you chose to....that’s all I’m saying.”

  I digress. My mom’s visits are always like this, and while I enjoy her company and appreciate everything she’s done for me, I don’t want to be lectured. I want mother-daughter time to be special, not stressful.

  “If I knew you were going to get all mad, I would’ve just kept my mouth shut, Ava.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

  “No, I am worried about it. If you didn’t want any input from me, then why bring up the fact that you think you’re not spending enough time with Drew.”

  “Because I simply wanted you to give me some insight on what you did with me when I was a child...if you ever experienced what I’m going through right now, but forget it. It’s cool.”

  I look at Drew. He’s holding a wheat cracker in his right hand, taking small bites of it while kicking his feet against the high chair. Mom is drinking water like she’d just ran a mile, and I’m avoiding eye contact with her because now, I see that this spur-of-the-moment, pop-in visit she’s made to Charlotte is something she’d planned for a while to scold me. Guess she was going to give me a piece of her mind after all.

  “Let me ask you something, dear. And I’ve never said anything before because I didn’t know how you would react to it, but why are you supporting Drew alone? Why haven’t you looked into getting some support from his father?”

  “Because his father doesn’t know Drew exists, and I would like to keep it that way.”

  Mom shakes her head. “The boy should know who his father is, and the father should be taking care of his son. I don’t know what the problem is with this generation of women who feel like they can just do it all...like they are afraid to ask the man for any help. You didn’t lie down and make that baby on your own, did you? Why take care of him on your own?”

  Ugh.

  I feel my brain beginning to jolt. It feels like someone is throwing mini darts at my head. That’s what she’s doing – shooting verbal darts at me.

  “You do know who the father is, don’t you?”

  “Okay, Mom, let’s not go there again. And why are you talking to me like I’m a child? I respect your opinions, I do, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m twenty-eight years old.”

  “Child, don’t tell me how old you are like I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you don’t, because you sure don’t treat me like an adult.”

  “All I’m saying is you need to make better choices, Ava. You have your health to think about. You can’t be running off getting pregnant and—”

  Beyond irritated, I say, “I made a mistake, okay! I have to live with it and learn from it which is what I’m doing. I’m sure you’ve made plenty of mistakes in your lifetime.”

  She sighs. Dismissing my statement, she asks, “What’s his father’s name?”

  “Why? So you can track him down like a bounty hunter?”

  Boy am I relieved when the waitress brings over our meals.

  Drew gets hyper when he sees our plates of food. He starts whining and grabbing at my salad bowl, swinging his legs faster and banging on the table with his open hand. I break off a small piece of bread and Drew takes it out of my hand and chews it. With him munching on bread now, I’m able to dress my salad. I open a packet of ranch dressing, squeeze it on the thick bed of lettuce and sprinkle on some salt and pepper. I give Drew another piece of bread, then I take a fork full of salad to my mouth while watching my mom devour the ravioli.

  Mom is quiet for a few moments as she satisfies her craving for the ravioli, then she wipes her mouth and says, “And I think it is so wrong that you haven’t given him the opportunity to know his son. That’s wrong, Ava.”

  “How’s it wrong when he has no idea he has a son?”

  “Well, it’s wrong for Drew. You don’t think Drew deserves a father?”

  “Of course he deserves a father, but—” I stop talking because it’s pointless. I already don’t want to be here, so short of storming out of this restaurant, I avoid her by looking around the place. I notice a group of men, laughing loudly across the way. They’re all dressed professionally with notepads, chatting it up, probably about business stuff.

  I stir my salad with a fork, trying to pick out the chicken. I continue to watch mom practically make love to her ravioli and Drew is still happily eating bread. I glance up at a roar of laughter coming from the table of businessmen once again and catch the eye of one of the men. I know him.

  My heart begins beating faster, I feel myself break into a cold sweat and I’m aimlessly stirring salad. I cannot believe my eyes, but I have to believe them. It’s him – Andre Rockwell – Drew’s father.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I hear mom ask.

  My head is floating. I feel like I’m in a dream and I can’t escape it. Mom talked Andre into my life again and there he was, in the same room with me, breathing the same air.

  I panic. I can’t let him see me, but I can’t look away either. He’s holding a pamphlet in his hand like he’s reading from it and when and looks up, his eyes catches mine but he continues speaking, talking and gesturing. Then he stops suddenly, looks my way again like my face has jogged his memory.

  He remembers me...

  Andre

  . ~ .

  “ANDRE, YO, you cool man? You look like yo
u just saw a ghost,” Scott whispered.

  “Uh...um...uh...ye...yeah. I’m good,” Andre responded, but he wasn’t good because as he looked across the restaurant he saw the woman he’d fallen in love with only to have his heart broken. It was as if she had fallen off the face of the earth, but now, there she was, sitting just a few feet away from him, so close he could walk over to her. Talk to her. Touch her.

  He contemplated doing so, but something else grabbed his attention like a thief – something he couldn’t turn away from, even after Scott had tried to get his attention a few more times during their working lunch.

  Andre had stopped speaking mid-sentence, holding RCC’s policies and procedures manual. All of the associates, including Benjamin, were looking at him, trying to figure out the source of his silence – trying to determine if he was taking a moment to get his thoughts together.

  But he wasn’t. He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the little boy sitting next to Ava, in a high chair, looked identical to him and without a need of confirmation, without any sort of DNA testing, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the boy was his son.

  “Andre,” Scott said again.

  Andre snapped out of his trance, looked at Scott then resumed the meeting. After all, that was the reason he was here. “So, as you all know, Benjamin will be an integral part of this process and will also assume the role of chief financial officer once the merger is complete.” He took out his briefcase and handed them all a printout of their new job descriptions. Then he looked over at Ava’s table again and saw her packing up. Was she leaving?

  He shot her an ominous glower. He knew she was only leaving because she saw him. She wouldn’t get away so easily this time.

  Turning his attention back to the meeting, he said, “Ah...those are your new job roles and responsibilities. They are pretty in line with what you currently do today, just a few tweaks here and there. I will need these signed and returned to me no later than Friday.” He was supposed to go over the job roles one-by-one as he stated to Benjamin that he would, but with this new discovery, his mind was no longer on work.

  Once noticing Ava had gotten up from the table, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of her. He watched the older woman she was with leave with the little boy while Ava headed in the opposite direction, probably to the bathroom.

  “Say, Andre,” Benjamin said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think it will be helpful if the both of us met with everyone here individually to discuss these responsibilities in more detail, as well as salary expectations.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Andre told him, watching Ava emerge again. She was waving her hands as if to fan water off of them, helping them to dry faster.

  Andre eyed her as she walked pass his table without even looking at him – not even attempting to speak or make any sort of contact.

  Now she’s trying to make a run for it, he thought as she walked on by like they were strangers. Like their paths had never crossed.

  “What day would be best? Friday?” Benjamin asked. “I know we have meetings with the lawyers on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, right? Unless something’s changed.”

  Andre didn’t hear Benjamin’s questions because he was too busy looking at Ava, trying for the life of him to figure out why she was ignoring him now, the same way she ignored him for the last two years.

  “Andre,” Scott said discreetly so the rest of the associates didn’t hear him.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Andre said to the group, then stood up. He couldn’t let her walk away like this. After all, he’d only been thinking about this woman every single day for the last two years.

  Outside, he jogged a little to catch up to her. She was walking so fast, she might as well sprinted into an all-out run.

  Once he was able to get a little closer to her, he called out, “Ava?”

  She kept on walking. Or was she running?

  “Ava!”

  She stopped when she heard the urgency and anger in his yell and turned around to look at him. “Yes?”

  Andre didn’t bother to disguise the disturbance in his forehead, and with contempt in his voice he said, “You’re just going to pretend you don’t know me.”

  “I’m simply walking to my car.”

  He glared at her. “That’s all you have to say to me, Ava?”

  “I have to go,” was her response.

  Watching her turn around and continue her walk to the car, Andre shouted, “When were you going to tell me I had a son?”

  Ava stopped in her tracks, turned around and looked at him again. He knew Drew was his son.

  “He looks identical to me so there’s no need for you to pretend he’s not mine because I know he is. Were you ever going to tell me, Ava?”

  “I don’t know,” she responded.

  “You don’t know…” Andre said with flaring nostrils. This is the woman who he was once head over heels in love with. The woman he wanted a future with, but she ended up being the woman who broke his heart into a million tiny pieces. The woman who was presently trying to ignore him and make a run for her car.

  “Let me tell you what I know,” Andre said. “I know that I will be a part of my son’s life whether it be by something we work out of via the court system. And maybe the court system is a better option because you never answer your phone when I call you. Or maybe I had the wrong number....let’s see.” Andre took out his cell, found her number that remained in his contact list and dialed it.

  After a few moments, Ava’s cell began ringing.

  “Wow...I had the right number all along, huh? All those times I called you and didn’t get an answer, I just assumed I had the wrong number. But I didn’t have the wrong number did I? You just didn’t want to talk to me.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Oh, okay. You still don’t want to talk to me. That’s cool. But you better believe I’m coming for my son,” he hissed. Taking a breath, he turned to walk away from her, feeling anger build up in his chest, anger he’d never felt before. Not only had she hurt him, broke his heart, but she had his son and didn’t even bother to tell him she was pregnant. And he discovered he had a child by a chance run-in at a restaurant with her. What kind of way is that for a man to find out that he had a child? A son?

  Walking back in the restaurant, he resumed his meeting but his mind wasn’t there. Sure, the merger was the reason he was in Charlotte, but it was no longer his priority.

  Ava

  . ~ .

  “YOU’VE BEEN acting weird since we left the restaurant. Are you still upset with me, because if you are, I want to apologize. I just want what’s best for you, Ava.”

  My stomach is in a million knots as I stare blankly at the TV. Drew is sleeping in his crib and, yes, I hear my mother talking but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I’m too busy thinking about Andre. Honestly I never thought I’d see him again. What on earth was he doing in Charlotte of all places?

  The last time I saw him, we were in Nassau together, well technically not together but that’s where we met. Nassau, Bahamas. He was especially handsome, still is, and told me he was taking a sabbatical from work…

  “Ava, did you hear me?”

  “Yes, mom. Sorry,” I say, though I hadn’t heard a word she said.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m all right.”

  “When is your next appointment, dear?”

  “Mom I told you I’m fine.”

  “Ava?”

  I roll my eyes. Yes, I know it’s childish, but my mother has a way of making me feel like a child. She treats me like I can’t do anything on my own. Things I am able to accomplish is not good enough for her.

  “You know, you don’t always have to remind me that I’m sick.”

  “I’m just making sure you have an appointment because—”

  “Yes! Yes. Mother. I have an appointment on Wednesday. Jeez.”

  I stand to walk by the windows of my third floor
apartment, staring down into the parking lot. Yeah, I have an appointment but I’m not going. My co-pays are fifty dollars a pop and I would rather put food in my refrigerator than pay the doctor fifty dollars, only for the doctor to play guessing games on when he thinks I might die, or give me false hope about my condition – telling me how far I’ve moved up on the donor list and what experimental surgeries I can try – things which are not covered by insurance. Things I wouldn’t be able to afford anyway.

  I wipe tears from my eyes and cross my arms. Then without thinking about it, I blurt out, “He’s here mother.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Drew’s father. He’s here. I saw him at the restaurant earlier...said he wanted to be a part of Drew’s life and—”

  “So you told him that Drew was his son?”

  I shake my head. “No. He just knew.”

  “How could he be so sure?”

  “You remember when I told you that Drew looks just like his father?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It wasn’t an exaggeration. They look identical.”

  “I wish you would’ve pointed him out so I could’ve gotten a good look at him.”

  “No worries...you’ll get plenty of looks at him. He wants to get to know Drew...said something about custody and court and...” I couldn’t withhold the floodgates any longer. Tears came flowing out of my eyes like buckets. “He was angry, Mom. What if he tries to take Drew away from me?”

  “Oh, dear.” She joins me by the windows, wraps her arms around me and says, “It’s a good thing he wants to be in his son’s life, right? And what judge would take a child away from his mother? That’s not going to happen.”

  “But what if it does?”

  “Sweetheart, it’s not going to happen.”

  “And I don’t want to be in court discussing anything about Andrew.”

  “Oh, honey, stop crying. Everything will work out.”

  I sniffle and bat tears away from my eyes with the back side of my hands. “I know, but you don’t understand. Andre liked me. He really liked me and he tried for months to call me after I left Nassau, but I never took any of his calls. He wanted a relationship with me but all I did was ignore him.”