Center of Gravity (27 page)

Dr. Bennett shakes her head. “No. I have to keep an eye on things. Just in case. The judge asked me to.” She points to the mirror. “I'm just on the other side of that.”

I sink my chin into my chest. Another tear leaks down my cheek. “I wish I could rewind the clock. Or turn into Superman and spin the earth in the other direction.”

“Turn back time?”

I wrap my arms around my knees. “Yeah. Then I could fix things. Maybe then Dad and Ava wouldn't have had that big fight. Dad wouldn't have gotten mad and left.”

“Where were you and Sam?”

My belly clenches tight. “When Dad left we were still with Ava in the house. Then later he kind of tricked her.”

“What do you mean?” Dr. Bennett sits back.

The clock ticks a steady beat, and I check the time. Dad's late. Again.

“Ava let him come get us. He said he wanted to see us for a couple of hours at his new apartment. He was supposed to bring us back that night. Then he wouldn't let us go. Ava called. I heard them on the phone.”

“I see.” Dr. Bennett leans toward me and looks me in the eye. “There'll always be things we wish we could do over. But you didn't cause this. It's not your fault. Do you understand me, Jack?”

I lick my lips. “I guess so.”

“Jack, I'm going to tell you something I tell every parent. I'm not
on the mom's side. I'm not on the dad's side.” She clasps her hands together. “I'm on your side. Sam's side. Period.”

“So you decide what's going to happen with us? Who we'll live with?”

“Well, partly.” Dr. Bennett pauses. “I help the judge because he doesn't have time to get to know everyone like I do. He relies on me to give him good advice. He might not always agree, but I have a lot of experience doing this.”

“Are you ever wrong?”

Dr. Bennett thinks about this. She takes her time answering. “About my job? What I recommend? Not usually.”

I think about this, hard. “That's good.”

Dr. Bennett steals a glance at the wall. The clock above her head says five twenty. Still no Dad.

“Let me check on something.” She gets to her feet. “Can you wait here, Jack?”

My shoulders relax. “Sure.” I stretch my arms over my head, crack my knuckles, and pick up my book, glad for the break. “No problem.”

Dr. Bennett walks out and leaves the door open. I can hear her talking to her assistant. Sam's babbling.

“Any sign of their dad?” she asks.

“Nope,” the girl answers. “You've got about ten phone calls to return. One cancellation Thursday afternoon. And the dentist called to confirm your appointment Monday.”

“Great—”

Dad bursts through the door. He's breathing hard, and his hair is wet from the rain. “Hey. Where's Jack?”

“Dr. Carson, you're late.” Dr. Bennett replies. “I have a schedule to keep.”

“Big meeting,” Dad says. “Couldn't miss it. Budgets, deadlines.” He turns and puts his back to her.

“You missed your home visit yesterday,” she reminds him.

I gulp. Dad stops and jerks his head back to look at her. “Oh, that.”

If Dr. Bennett can tell Dad's upset, she doesn't show it. Her face is perfectly normal. She must be used to adults who aren't on time and blow off appointments.

“Come on, Jack. Time to go,” Dad says.

“Wait just a moment?” Dr. Bennett asks. “I have one more thing,” Dr. Bennett says. She turns on her heel and picks up a folder on the table. She flicks it open and holds it out to Dad. “I need you to sign a release.”

Dad sets his jaw and raises an eyebrow.

“It gives me permission to drive the children to see their mother for her home visit Friday.”

A surge of happiness rushes through me. Ava. At our old house. I'll see my room and my toys. Then I dig my nails into my palm. I can't smile. Dad might see me. Dr. Bennett hands Dad the paper. He hesitates, then frowns and scribbles his name.

“Great. Thank you.” Dr. Bennett slides the paper back inside the chart. “Oh, and about the home visit?”

My dad's face goes dark, and he waves a hand in my direction. “Get your brother. We have to go.” His voice growls, the way it gets when someone really makes him mad. Then Dad's eyes slice at Dr. Bennett. “I'll have someone call you to reschedule.”

CHAPTER 49

JACK

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 28

The Flash thinks, moves, and reacts at superhuman speeds. Handy for answering questions, getting to class on time, and avoiding food fights. If I forgot my lunch card or a homework assignment, I could run home. With the ability to speed-read, I could go through all of my textbooks and notes twice in record time. And, using vibration, Flash can walk through walls. That could come in handy if I get in trouble at school or with my dad.

While the rest of the class plays chase, swings from monkey bars, and generally torments the teachers, Mo and I hang out under the grove of trees near the soccer field. It's been raining buckets until this morning, and the sky's still clouded steel gray. A gentle wind rustles the oak branches, sending droplets of water down on our heads. I jump when a drop hits my cheek, cold and wet.

“Wanna go over to 99 Issues later? Supposed to be getting a new shipment in.” Mo kicks at a stone near the wrought iron fence. “Dude said he might be getting in some vintage Silver Surfer.”

“Nice!” I get a temporary lift thinking about paging through a stack of old comic books. I even love the musty garage-sale smell when the sales guys pull them out of the crates. “What time?”

“Right after you get done with detention. My sister can take us.”

“It's all right. We can walk.”

I nod then think about my almost-empty wallet in my back pocket. “I'm not sure I have any cash, Mo.”

“Spot you a few bucks, dude.” He elbows me in the ribs. “Or you could just ask Ava.” He points to the other side of the fence.

My breath catches. I turn and Ava waves, sticks her hand back in her pocket, and waits. Despite the dark afternoon, she's wearing sunglasses, a ball cap, some yoga-looking clothes. Sort of incognito, though her reddish ponytail gives her away if you look closely enough.

“Jack, hey. I'm so glad I caught you.” She grins as I get closer.

I duck my head. “Uh, should you be here?” I glance around, watching for my dad or the principal to jump out from behind the bushes.

“I'm on public property. And I only need a minute.” She takes off her sunglasses and looks straight at me. “I want to clear some things up. First, I love you and your brother. This situation is not at all what I want, for everyone to be split up. Cross my heart.”

My brain nudges me. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Her mouth drops an inch or two. She takes a step closer and grips the fence. “Absolutely not. If anyone told you that, you have been seriously misinformed. Got it?”

I nod.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Now people talk and say ugly things, but that doesn't mean you have to believe them,” Ava adds.

A pang of guilt hits me in my rib cage. I look down and press my loafer into the dirt, make a perfect imprint of my shoe.

“Jack, what is it?” she asks.

My mouth is suddenly parched. “Why can't you . . .” I stop and think. “Why don't you get back together?” As soon as I say the words, though, I think of how my dad has acted. Moving out of the house. Calling the police on Ava. Ripping up my comic book.

Ava presses her lips together. “I've tried to talk to your dad about
it, honey. He won't listen. I've been to his office, I've tried talking to him on the phone, and we've had a meeting.” She sighs. “But it is not your job to fix it. Okay? This is an adult thing.”

My eyes start to sting. I fight back tears. “Yes, ma'am.”

Ava reaches into her backpack and hands me a small, rectangular box.

I take it and my eyes get wide. It's a brand-new cell phone.

“This is for you. You can tell your dad you have it, if you like. That's up to you. I'm not trying to hide anything. I just want you to be able to call me. The numbers are programmed in.”

My breath quickens. I nod and think about where I can hide it. Under my pillow? Under my bed?

“Use it if you need or want to,” Ava says. She lowers her voice. “Anytime night or day. I mean it.”

My jaw quivers. “What's going to happen? To me and Sam?”

“Jack honey, that's what we're all trying to work out,” she says and puts a hand on her own chest. “What's best for you and your brother. I want you and Sam with me every minute of every day, do you understand that? But I have to share you. With your dad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know it's important you spend time with both of us. Your dad always talks about the good times you had at Cub Scouts and peewee soccer.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Uh . . .”

“What is it?” Ava asks.

“Well, I always wanted my dad there, but my mom took me to all that stuff. He was always too busy. He'd promise to come, then wouldn't show up.”

Ava's face looks a little funny. Like she's tasted something really awful like cockroach guts. She swallows hard and smiles quickly. “Okay. Well. So I'm sure he'll want to now, right?”

I scuff the dirt. “Yeah. Sure.”

“So the psychologist, Dr. Bennett, explained that she is going to help the judge decide how much time you'll get to spend with both me and your dad?”

I kick a pebble with the toe of my tennis shoe. “Yeah. That sucks.”

Ava smiles. “It kinda does, though I'd prefer you use another word.”

“Stinks, smells rotten, bad, awful.”

She laughs. “Better. Thanks, smarty pants.”

Then the bell rings, jarring me back into reality. Behind me I can hear the shouts and laughter of my classmates as they trudge back toward the school.

Ava reaches through the fence and squeezes my hand. I cling to her, letting the warmth of her touch wash over me. Right now I feel safe. And I don't want to let go.

Mo calls my name. We're going to be late.

I drop Ava's hand and take a step back. It's just a few inches farther away, but now it seems like a thousand miles.

CHAPTER 50

AVA

THURSDAY, APRIL 29

I call Frank this morning, hoping to wrangle an invitation, but I don't get past the first word.

“I've found something,” he says. It's important. A piece of paper, one he won't risk mailing. There's a package for Jack, too, a birthday gift. “Karen gave it to me for safekeeping,” he tells me. “By the time I remembered I had it—months after the funeral—Mitchell and Jack were gone.”

Less than an hour later, I'm on the road, heading for Moulton. The top's down, letting the Alabama sun warm my shoulders. The sky, strikingly blue, bears a line of contrails, perfectly spaced, underscoring the beauty of the day. The air, fragrant with pine fronds, caresses my cheeks and blows through my hair.

The highway's anonymity, one single red Jeep among hundreds of tan trucks, silver trailers, and black SUVs, relieves the stress of being on display in Mobile. The constant tension. The need to always look over my shoulder.

I rub at my neck, missing the casual fried oyster dinners at Wintzell's, listening to live music at the Blue Gill, catching a movie at the Crescent Theater downtown. I even miss popping open a great bottle of wine at home before watching the Crimson Tide.

Did I imagine all of those things? Did I dream that I had a husband who adored me? A man with whom I shared my bed and heart? I bite my lip. In my rush to love and be loved, I allowed myself to overlook everything that seems so glaringly obvious now in the daylight.

Willing fortitude, I push the thoughts from my head. One by one I heave and send them tumbling, end over end. Boulders crashing and breaking at the water's rocky edge. Instead, I think about Frank, replaying our conversation. He sounded fragile, worried, and told me to be careful. At least Frank, this time, won't meet me with a .45.

It's progress. And seeing Jack yesterday bolstered my confidence. Some bittersweet truths to swallow and digest. Difficult ideas to accept. I ache to fix it all, which is why I'm on the road. But no matter what I find out today, it won't repair everything. Jack's scars will be there. As will mine. Two things I have to accept.

I glance in the rearview mirror at the cooler sitting in the back. I've packed chicken salad sandwiches, crunchy raw vegetables, and a fresh-baked loaf of whole-grain wheat bread. A jug of unsweet tea with plenty of fresh lemons in a Ziploc. I wonder about the last time Frank ate a home-cooked meal.

When I pull up and jump out, I run a hand through my hair and take in the neighborhood. The house looks the same. The sidewalk, the driveway. At this point in my life, the same is really good. I knock on the door, and this time it swings open wide. Frank is ready and waiting. Hungry too. I dish out our picnic lunch, and we settle in.

Frank sighs. “It's such a treat to have a fine meal brought to me.”

I pour tea into two clear tumblers and squeeze the lemon slices, releasing the pulp and juice. The scent of citrus fills the air, tickling my nose. Frank raises his glass and takes a long drink.

“Ah, delicious, Ava.”

Seeing him so content makes me happy. Though I'm impatient to find out what he's discovered, I wait for Frank to tell me. I want
him to enjoy the meal and the attention, two things I'm certain he doesn't get enough of.

I grin. “Glad to do it. As long as your nurse won't chase me down for putting the tiniest bit of mayonnaise in the chicken salad.”

“I won't tell.” He winks and takes another bite. After he swallows, he adjusts his wheelchair, leans over the table, and picks up an envelope. He holds it up. It's yellowed and bent.