Chapter 10
On the first warm Saturday of spring, Ava asked Nia and me to come to the park with her.
“I want to take pictures for my new project,” she said. “I need both of you in some of them.”
Nia brought a picnic. I brought Ava’s camera, which she had left in my car. Denise met us near the playground, and Julian arrived late with a kite he insisted he could fly.
He couldn’t.
Ava photographed him running across the grass while the kite dragged behind him. We laughed until he managed to get it airborne.
For lunch, we sat beneath a tree. Nia passed me a container of sandwiches. I handed her napkins. Ava moved between us, showing each new photograph on her camera.
I thought about the last year. There had been difficult days after the divorce, and there would be decisions ahead of us. But Ava could ask either parent a question and get an answer. She knew where she would sleep that night and when she would see the other of us again.
Nia had kept our schedule. So had I.
After lunch, Ava asked us to stand together for a picture. Denise took the camera while Ava stood between Nia and me, one hand in each of ours.
“Closer,” Ava instructed.
We moved closer.
“Smile for real.”
I looked at Nia. She smiled at me, sad and warm at once. Then we turned toward Ava.
Denise took the photograph.
We had decided not to stay married. I no longer wished we had pretended otherwise. Ava had two parents who could stand beside each other for her.
While Julian packed the kite away, Nia came to sit with me on the bench.
“Thank you for today,” she said.
“It was Ava’s idea.”
“You made it easy for her.”
“So did you.”
Nia watched Ava show Denise the pictures. “I used to think admitting what I’d done would take everything away from me. Hiding it nearly did.”
I listened.
“I’m still sorry, Marcus,” she said. “I know I can’t ask you to feel differently about it.”
“You don’t have to ask.” I looked at Ava. “I’m glad we tell each other the truth now.”
“So am I.”
We sat quietly until Ava called us over to see a bird perched above the path.
That evening, I took Ava home to my apartment. She spread her photographs across the table and chose her favorites for a school display. There was Julian with his fallen kite. Denise laughing over her picnic plate. Nia sitting under the tree.
Then Ava found the picture Denise had taken of the three of us.
“This one goes in the middle,” she said.
“It’s your project.”
“I know.” She looked up at me. “I like it because nobody looks worried.”
I studied our faces. She was right.
We printed the photographs and placed them on a board. Ava wrote names beneath them in careful letters. When she finished, she carried the board to her room and set it where she could see it from her bed.
At bedtime, she asked me to call Nia so she could say goodnight. Nia answered, and Ava told her about the bird, the kite, and which pictures she had chosen.
After they hung up, Ava pulled the blanket over her shoulders.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Last year, when I saw the boxes at Grandma’s, I thought everyone knew where I was going except me.”
I sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry we let that happen.”
“I was scared you’d wake up one day and I’d be gone.”
My throat tightened. “I was scared too.”
She reached for my hand. “I’m not scared of that now.”
“I’m glad.”
“I know you and Mom will tell me if something changes.”
“We will.”
She looked at the photograph in the center of her display.
“And you’ll both still come.”
“Yes,” I said. “We’ll both come.”
Ava let go of my hand and settled into her pillow. I stayed until her eyes closed.
May you like
When I went to turn off the light, I glanced at the picture once more. Ava stood between Nia and me, smiling straight at the camera. We had taken it on an ordinary afternoon she had chosen for herself.
I switched off the lamp and left her door open a little, the way she liked it.
