CHAPTER 23
I knew Avery could sense my frustration — it seeped out of my pores even as I gentled my hands to hold her later that night. I was agitated, my fists easily recalling the feeling of wanting to pound J.D.’s face into a wall, but I didn’t say anything except the bare minimum — we would probably have to go to court for Annabelle’s adoption.
But she knew, because Avery could read me without words. We were intimately familiar with each other’s bodies; I loved every single hollow and smooth expanse of skin and gentle curve on that girl. That’s how I could tell that she felt it, my anger and annoyance — and even my disappointment.
We’ve come so far in the last few months. We’ve come so far, Fox. She whispered it to me after she thought I was asleep. This can’t be a dead end.
The legal part of the adoption was just a piece of paper as far as Avery was concerned. She considered me Annabelle’s father, the only real one she’d ever had. Avery believed it and Annabelle believed it, though Avery also understood the need I had to make it official.
But we didn’t discuss it further, weeks started to go by, and I tried to let myself settle, to forget about J.D. until the upcoming court dates and enjoy my family. If this was normal life, I’d take it.
I rolled a little pent-up tension out of my shoulders while I sat on our bed, tapping out an email on my tablet to finish up my latest round of memory exercises for Dr. Woods. Avery walked into the room with a basket of clean laundry in her arms and I looked up to see her smiling at me.
“That looks heavy.” I got to my feet quickly, shoving the tablet aside, and took the basket from her hands as I kissed her cheek softly.
“Thanks.” She started to fold the clothes and I grabbed a few shirts to hang. “What were you working on?” she asked, curiosity evident in her voice.
“Just some compensatory memory stuff,” I said, crossing the room to the closet. “I have that meeting with the specialist in Odessa next week.”
My memories were coming back slowly, but just pieces at a time. It was the other frustrating element of my life, the one I could do almost nothing about. I only got bits of every story, and Avery tried her best to fill in the blanks. Woods told me in the beginning that eighteen months post trauma would be about as good as things would ever get, and I’d be damned if I didn’t have more of my puzzle put together before then. Hence, the memory exercises and the long-avoided specialist visit.
“I’m proud of you for making the appointment,” Avery said softly. “I know you don’t love it.”
No, I didn’t love the idea of more doctors, but I liked Woods and I knew he had my best interests at heart. If he wanted me to see the specialist, I’d go. I gave her a shrug and a half-smile. “Most of my recollections happen with a current-event trigger, like Woods predicted. If there was a surefire thing I could do to make it all come back, I’d be doing it every day.”
Avery stopped folding and put a hand on me, her fingers slipping lightly over the suddenly tense muscles in my forearm. “We’re good, okay? Even if you never have another flash, we’re solid. We’re making new memories all the time.”
It was more than what we were discussing on the surface, and once again Avery knew it. Breaking through the dark and feeling like myself again was something I continually worked at just as hard as I did when I exercised my body. There were days when the loss of Landry hit me like a landslide the minute I awoke, when I could hear my own voice in my head pleading with him not to give up, and Sloane’s equally desperate attempts to resuscitate the little girl.
Maybe my recovery trajectory was more difficult due to experiencing everything twice, but I didn’t know the difference. All I understood was that I needed to fight and keep moving forward, for Avery and Annabelle, but mostly for myself. Fire was a formidable enemy, but nothing compared to the war you can wage with yourself on the daily. I knew that now.
My eyes burned into hers with understanding, but my lips fell into a shit-eating grin as I shoved the laundry basket aside. “I can think of a couple memories I’d like to recreate with you right now if you’re willing, Mrs. Fox.” I reached for her. “Come here.”
Avery let me lay her down and cover her body with mine as I trailed my mouth up her neck and across her jaw to her lips. My fingers slipped under her shirt, feeling her warm skin under my rough palms. Her hands slid around my lower back as I pressed her into the bed, letting her know exactly what she did to me.
“This is so much better than laundry,” she murmured when we came up for air.
“It can get even better.” Another nudge of my hips had her breath catching in her throat.
“Can I— can I get a raincheck? We need to get ready for work.”
I was expecting it, but I jokingly groaned into her neck anyway, making her giggle. “Count on it.” Our lips touched once, twice more before I rolled off of her and propped myself up on my elbow. “I have to stop touching you now.”
She laughed again, and when I looked into her beautiful, open face I hated what I knew I had to say next.
My expression must’ve sobered some because she raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”
“I hate to ruin the mood, but I did just get an email about J.D.”
Avery sat up, smoothing her shirt down where my hands had pushed it out of place. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I turned onto my back as she rose and reached for the laundry. “That’s what makes it so frustrating. We know that he never used his return ticket back to Wyoming or exchanged it for another flight, so he has to be fairly close. But no one’s seen him.”
“What does the P.I. think?”
Lucas gave us a contact for a local private investigator, the best stealth guy he could find in our limited area, who would hopefully sniff out J.D.’s little hidey-hole and serve him with the papers our lawyer had drafted. So far, no luck.
I shrugged. “That he’ll turn up eventually.”
“But you don’t think that’s good enough,” she said.
Not by a fucking mile. And I wanted to take matters into my own hands, but for now I’d wait. “Nope. Not when it comes to J.D. I’d rather have too much information than not enough.”
My annoyance about the never-ending J.D. situation wouldn’t abate as Avery and I got ready to head into the diner. I was working the mid shift also, but Avery was only on for the early lunch so she could pick up Annabelle from preschool. Joy was true to her word, only scheduling us about three shifts a week together, but it worked when we added juggling Annabelle’s school schedule to the mix.
After a couple hours of non-stop burgers and fries, I finally had a lull in the rush and took that time to catch up on a few prep chores to make the mid shift easier. Avery came back into the kitchen to see me, her mouth twitching in amusement while she watched me arrange a cut fruit plate I planned to add to the daily specials. After I’d YouTubed the origami animals for Annabelle, I sort of fell down the rabbit hole of knife-skill videos, and apparently my wife found my strawberry rose garnishes hilarious.
“Careful now,” Avery said with a smile. “Heather will subcontract you out for decorating duty.”
I smirked at her, wanting to kiss that grin off her face. “I take the health-conscious section of our menu very seriously.”
“I know you do,” she laughed.
“What’s up, sunshine? Want a quick sandwich before you go get Bells?”
“No.” She came closer, kissing my cheek and lingering there. “Just wanted to say hi.”
Her warmth called to me, and I dropped the strawberries I held. “I’m still thinking about our raincheck,” I said in a low voice, leaning toward her.
“Oh really?” She slid her eyes up to meet mine.
“Yeah. I actually—”
“Avery!” Joy called from the pass-through. “Table eight is requesting you as their waitress.” She gave me a quasi-stern look. “Stop distracting my servers during the lunch rush.”
My lips twisted into a grin. “Sorry, Joy.”
She grabbed the fruit plate as I set it in the window and tried to keep her face impassive, but I saw a hint of a smile. I knew Joy was happy for us, despite her constant harping for fooling around on diner time.
In a different situation I might’ve been embarrassed for being called out as a horny teenager, but it was true — and my wife was hot. The benefits would always outweigh the consequences.
* * *
Table eight turned out to be our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Vancity. After Avery served their garden quiches and fruit salad, they invited her to join them as the last few minutes of her shift ticked by. I saw the elderly woman waving at me from the table, beckoning me out, so I motioned to Joy that I was taking my break and untied my apron. I set an iced tea down in front of Avery and took a seat in the empty fourth chair.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vancity, nice to see you. Is the food okay?” I ran a discreet hand over the small of Avery’s back. I couldn’t stop touching her today.
“Delicious, like always, dear!” Mrs. Vancity smiled at me, and her husband nodded his agreement.
At my touch, Avery turned and offered a small smile in my direction. “Thanks for the iced tea.”
I winked at her and turned to Mrs. Vancity. “I’m glad.”
“Avery, your Mr. Fox has done such a nice job on those home improvements he’s been working on,” Mrs. Vancity said, patting my arm. “I just love how your house is so well-lit now. I told Mr. Vancity that we should see about putting up some more lights of our own.”
Mr. Vancity grunted into his quiche. “Unnecessary.”
The older man had a slightly prickly exterior, but I knew he’d do whatever his wife wanted. I could see us being similar to the Vancitys as we grew older — I already had the slightly prickly thing on lock. And the old man was a softy for my little girl too. Avery said Annabelle could always count on two full-size candy bars when she trick-or-treated at their house for Halloween — Mr. Vancity got a kick out of putting them into her plastic pumpkin personally.
“I’d be happy to help if you decide to hang any, sir,” I said to Mr. Vancity, and we shared a small nod. Better to offer to assist than piss the old man off by inferring he couldn’t do it. I’d seen him wield some long-handled hedge trimmers with a vengeance.
“That’s so nice, dear. Thank you.” Mrs. Vancity paused. “We’re really going to miss you three around here next year. What will we do without our little Annabelle to keep us laughing?”
Avery told me the Vancitys didn’t have any grandchildren and that their only son had moved to Washington, D.C. many years ago. They were such nice people, she said, so caring. Avery’s grandparents had already passed, so she’d basically adopted them as surrogates. Mrs. Vancity had even crocheted the soft woven blanket that draped over the foot of Annabelle’s bed, a gift she’d given Avery when she came home from the hospital with her baby.
“We’re going to miss you too,” Avery told Mrs. Vancity sincerely. “But we’ll be back for visits all the time, I promise.”
“I’m happy for you, dear. I really am. New York City sounds mighty exciting,” Mrs. Vancity said, her eyes bright.
“I think it will be,” Avery said slowly.
My eyes quickly jumped over to Avery as I registered the uncertainty in her words. Was she having doubts about New York? Why? I watched as she absentmindedly stirred the straw in her iced tea, trying to read her face.
Mrs. Vancity chattered on about the time they’d visited their son in D.C. a few years ago, but Avery and I were only half listening. There was something going on here. My mind ran through a thousand scenarios, ranging from nervousness about grad school to regret for deferring to preoccupation about the adoption. All of those were valid and to be expected, but this was more. Avery wasn’t talking though, and I didn’t want to ask her in front of our neighbors. I’d let it rest for now.
Noting the time, I said my goodbyes and made my way back into the kitchen for the second part of my shift, still thinking about what could be going on with Avery. A few minutes later, she got up as well, needing to head out to pick up Annabelle from school.
“It was really nice chatting with you, Mr. and Mrs. Vancity,” I heard her say.
She blew me a kiss and I waved at her from the kitchen as I watched her head out into the rarely changing Texas sun. Something was up. I just wasn’t sure what it was yet.
* * *
“I don’t think I want to go to New York anymore,” Avery blurted that night as we got ready for bed.
“What?” I must be hearing things. At the same time, I recognized that I’d sensed hesitation from her, earlier at the diner.
She turned down the covers and slid in, deliberately keeping her face hidden. “I just think maybe it’s not the right move. It’s so far away, and we don’t know anyone… I’m not sure if it’s the place for us.”
“Avery.” I sat down on her side of the bed. “What are you talking about?”
She finally looked at me. “I think I want to go to Seattle.”
Nothing else could’ve been more unexpected than those words coming out of her beautiful mouth. “Seattle?”
“Yes. I think we should move to Seattle and live in the condo while I go to the University of Washington. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being back in Seattle? You could see Sloane and McDaniels sometimes, maybe even join your old firehouse. Or Hotshot crew,” she added softly. “If you wanted to.”
No. No. She was doing this for me because she knew I wasn’t sure about joining Fox Protective Services in New York. It was true, I hadn’t yet decided, but there were plenty of things I could do in a huge city. If Avery was throwing away the idea of New York for me — well, I couldn’t allow it.
“I don’t want to,” I said shortly.
“You don’t? But I thought you loved Seattle and your condo.” Her eyes searched mine.
“Avery, what is this all about? Why the sudden change of heart? New York has always been your dream, and you’re so close to making it happen. Why now?”
“I think it makes sense. I don’t know if New York is the place for me, for us. After your accident, I realized how much I needed my family and my community, not just for me, but for Annabelle too.”
“I get that,” I said slowly. “But what does that have to do with Seattle? We won’t have family or community there. At least in New York we’ll have Lucas sometimes, and even my parents on occasion.”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” she insisted. “Lucas spends most of his time on the West Coast these days, and there’s a good chance Heather will be out in Los Angeles soon too. We could easily find time to visit them often, or have them come up to us.”
She’d regret this. I knew she would. “I can’t let you give anything else up for me, Avery. You’ve already deferred grad school for a year. If you think that this will make things better for me, I want you to put that thought out of your head right now. I’ve gotten enough special treatment. Next year is about you.”
“I’m not giving anything up, Fox. I promise.” She slid her hand into mine and looked at me earnestly. “Seattle is where we found each other again after I wasn’t sure that we would. You made a home for us there when we needed it the most. I want to build on that, build on those memories. Seattle means something to me now. New York seems like a lifetime ago.”
I rubbed my free hand over my eyes. “I just— give me a little time to think about this, okay? And you take some more time as well. We don’t have to decide anything tonight.”
Avery nodded, but she seemed disappointed. “All right.”
There was no way that she really wanted this. Every single move she’d made in college was to get to this very point, and now she wanted to throw it all away. I couldn’t believe it was a coincidence, that she’d suddenly had a change of heart and now wanted to move us back to a place where she knew I was inherently comfortable. I could do New York, happily even. I could live anywhere as long as I had her.
We’d let it settle for now, and I’d think about it like I’d said I would. Would I love to go back to Seattle? Yes, of course. But we’d decided on New York before I’d run my bike off the road and jeopardized our entire future. It was a decision we’d made together even if I didn’t remember it, an anticipated, thoughtful move. I couldn’t imagine my opinion changing — I wanted Avery to do something for herself now, above anyone else. She deserved it.