London from My Windows by Mary Carter Page B

her. Don’t you see? If I don’t have my party, he wins. He might as well have snatched me and shoved me into a deep, dark hole. “I’ll do it.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous,” Gretchen said. “You can’t.”
    Jasper glanced at Ava. “I believe you may visit.” Ava shrugged, then nodded. Jasper smiled. “But it’s a limited number of days—” Ava nodded even more. “How many days?” Jasper posed it as a rhetorical question. Behind her mother’s back, Ava held up three fingers. “Three days.” His tone was emphatic.
    â€œThree days?” Gretchen rose. “All the way to London?”
    Ava was a terrible daughter. Her mother was misguided, no question, but she loved her just as fiercely. “How dare you disrespect my mother. Make it six days or no deal.”
    Jasper’s mouth went through a few contortions. Was he trying not to laugh? “Six days.” He rubbed his chin with his hand, then looked at Gretchen. “Perhaps we’ll have to revisit the fine print.”
    â€œI’ll fight for you, Mother,” Ava said. Gretchen still didn’t look happy. “Or we’ll find you a nice hotel.”
    â€œDo they have country line dancing in London?” Gretchen asked. She hauled her leg up next to the computer and caressed her cowboy boot.
    â€œNo,” Ava said. She shoved her mother’s boot off the table.
    â€œI believe they do,” Jasper said.
    â€œNo,” Ava said.
    â€œI don’t even know why we’re having this conversation,” Gretchen said. “Ava can’t go to London alone. No matter what she says. She’s agora—”
    Ava lunged and shut off the monitor. “Mother! Stop!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIf I want him to know my business I’ll tell him myself.”
    â€œBut darling, you can’t go.”
    â€œWhy not, Mother? Because I’m handicapped?”
    â€œYou never leave the house. And you want to move to London?”
    â€œI left the house today.”
    â€œYou had a complete meltdown. You can’t even walk out to your mailbox. You had to settle for a married man because who else would date a woman who won’t go on any dates?”
    The last comment was like a slap to the face. So that’s what her mother really thought of her. Wait. She almost missed what her mother just said because of her hurt feelings. She advanced on her. “How did you know Cliff was married?”
    â€œWhat?” Gretchen wasn’t the actress in the family; she wasn’t any good at it.
    â€œYou weren’t there when I found out. And I certainly didn’t tell you.” Gretchen simply stared. “You knew. Oh my God. You knew Cliff was married and you didn’t tell me? How? How did you know?”
    â€œI ran into them once.”
    â€œOh my God. How long ago?”
    â€œIt wasn’t ideal but—”
    â€œHow long?”
    â€œShortly after you started dating.”
    â€œOh my God. I can’t believe you. How could you? He has two little boys. I could have wrecked their home.”
    â€œHow? She wasn’t going to find out about you.”
    â€œOh my God. Who are you?” Ava hurried toward her bedroom. Pack. She was going to pack a suitcase. She stopped. She didn’t have any suitcases. At least she had a passport. Because her father was British she had dual citizenship. She’d kept it updated over the years too. Not because she planned on going anywhere, but because she refused to lose that connection with her father. This would be the first time her passport would ever be stamped. London. The city she knew so well from books and movies. Buckingham Palace, and Kate and William, and her personal favorite, Prince Harry, because she had to love a rebel, and loads of tea, and Big Ben, and Notting Hill, and Downton Abbey, and clever little phrases like “Let’s shag,” and