"Avery," she said in a soft voice and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

My name sounded wrong out of the mouth of the woman who gave it to me.

She stood, immobile as though afraid that any movement would scare me away. Even with the mid-day sun shining upon her, she appeared cold.

Ironically, I was the one who couldn't look at her in the eyes. The sweet honey brown color of her eyes reminded me too much of Riley's.

This wasn't exactly how I pictured the first day of spring break.

I looked down at the fallen leaves on the ground. I didn't know what to say. I had imagined the moment she would come back thousands of times in mind, and prepared hundreds of speeches.

But as she stood in front of me, I realized that I had nothing to say to her.

I didn't want to hear about her career or her life. I didn't even want to hear any explanation she could have to justify leaving.

She was not my mom. Our physical features were about as deep as our similarities ran. As far as I could see, she was a stranger.

I stood up and tightened my grip on the marker I never even got a chance to use. I glanced at my sister's grave and returned the smile I knew she would be wearing if she could see me.

"Happy birthday, Riley."

Then I walked past my mother and didn't look back.

She didn't follow me, but the contrite expression I read on her face haunted me as I made my way out of the cemetery.

I didn't slow down my pace even to breathe until I reached my house. My mind was blank all the way from the cemetery but as soon as I stepped inside the living room, the thoughts hit me all at once, knocking me against the front door.

More questions than answers flooded my mind as I closed my eyes to attempt to push back an impending migraine. How could she be back so suddenly, without any warning? How could she go to Riley's grave when she never once visited us while Riley was still alive? Did Dad know that she was back? Did he ask her to come?

"Are you okay?"

My eyes snapped open and I found Arson standing in front of me, watching me with concern scribbled all over his face.

"I remembered what day it was today and I thought you could use some company," he added when I didn't reply to his question.

I pulled myself off the door I was leaning against and I managed to smile at him. "How did you get in?"

"Your dad let me in earlier. He had to leave for work but he asked me to keep an eye on you." He watched my clumsy movements as I tried to take off my jacket. "Are you okay, Avery?" he asked again, leading me away from the front door and towards the couch.

I brushed off the question and noticed he wasn't wearing his wrist splint. For a second, I forgot about mom and a newfound excitement filled me.

"Is your wrist better now?" I asked, thrilled at the idea that he could get to play in the semi-finals.

"Somewhat. It doesn't hurt as much but your dad just lectured me not to use it. Coach also thinks it's safer for me to let this season go," he said and casually dismissed it with a small wave of his uninjured hand. "Who cares?"

I didn't mention that he clearly did and allowed him the brief bliss of denial.

We sat down on the couch next to each other. It seemed rock hard today and lacked the comfort it usually gave me.

"You ignored my question. What's wrong?" he asked and didn't stop staring at me until I replied.

"I just saw my mother."

Even as I said it out loud, it seemed like a ridiculous sentence. Mother? I probably hadn't said that word since I first learned what it meant.

"The dead one?" he asked, incredulous.

I looked at him through squinted eyes. He didn't even seem to be kidding. And I supposed that, in some way, I never spoke about her like she was alive. In fact, I never spoke about her at all.

"She wasn't dead, Arson. She left. I saw her at the cemetery earlier."

"That's amazing news," he said and ignored the scowl I shot his way.

"You're joking."

"No, this is good. You will finally be able to tell her everything you said you always wished to talk to her about."

"What? No. Now that I saw her, the only thing I felt was betrayal. I have nothing to tell her. She left us and...  and she looks great."

I remembered the small smile she wore and the calm expression on her face. I had expected her to throw herself into fits of explanations or to, at least, apologize. Instead, she quietly assessed me and didn't say a word.

Well, I didn't exactly give her the time to, but I barely saw any remorse on her face.

I was definitely not going to tell my mother, whom I hadn't seen in seventeen years, how badly I needed her. I was not going to tell her that I had longed for her comfort when Riley died, and that I wished she had been there when I was growing up.

Seventeen years was a long time and just enough to erase every positive sentiment I felt towards her.

"Why would I talk to her?" I asked, playing with the cushion of the couch.

"I don't know, so you can get to know her and maybe hear her side of the story."

"There can't be two sides to a story where a mother abandons her family. It sounds pretty simple to me." I hoped I successfully masked the frustration in my voice.

He patted my hand to appease me. "Maybe there was more to it, Avery. There is never one explanation. Besides, if you don't talk to her while you still can, you will regret it later."

I knew he was right, but I didn't want him to be. I wanted to stay mad at my mother because she had not been there for me when I needed her. I refused to consider her perspective because I knew I might forgive her if I did, and I didn't want to.

I was even angrier that Riley never got to see her face again. I remembered the random comments she would make in the middle of the night. 

"Hey, what do you think Mom's doing, right now?" she asked and continued when she received no answer from me. "Do you think she ever wonders about us?"

I didn't reply. I never replied to any of her musings about Mom. I'd much rather never talk about her at all, but naturally, Riley didn't get the hint. Or if she did, she couldn't care less because she always went on.

"I think she does," she answered for me. "I think she still cares about us and sends concerned letters to Dad asking about us. I think she cries herself to sleep but believes that she can't come back. Maybe she thinks we wouldn't welcome her back." After a pause, she added, "Or maybe she's afraid that coming back would only remind her of the terrible mistake she made. I wonder if I would do the same thing if I were in her position."

"Riley?" I would finally say, interrupting her rants.

"Yeah?"

"Please go to sleep." And her good-natured laugh would fill the darkness.

She never did go to sleep. She couldn't stop once she started and she knew that even when I didn't respond, I was listening to every single word she said.

How could Mom have not returned when her daughter died? What made her think she could come back now?

I wanted to stay angry and I was too afraid talking to her would dissipate that anger I so badly needed.

"Hey," Arson said, and his hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my reflections. "I brought you some treats."

I hadn't even realized that he had left the room.

He waved a small basket of apples in front of me, as he plopped onto the same seat as before.

Apples were not what I had in mind when I heard 'treats'.

"I know this is a tough day for you and apples always cheer me up when I'm down." He set them on the table in front of me.

I stared at the apples blankly and I heard him scoff when I didn't reach out to take one.

"If you're wondering," he said, "yes, of course they're poisoned. And I'm the evil queen in disguise." 

I laughed at the deadpan look on his face. It was a silly thing to laugh at, but I appreciated his efforts to cheer me up.

He took the TV remote off the table and leaned back against the couch, carefully placing his injured hand on his lap.

"Hey, don't fret about your mom. You don't have to worry about talking to her until you're ready," he said, turning on the TV and pulling his legs onto the couch. "Now, let's watch some movies and eat some apples."

"I'm glad you're here, Arson," I told him after a while.

I took a bite out of a juicy red apple as we both pretended to watch whatever was happening on the screen, even when we were, in reality, drowning in our thoughts.

He smiled at me and draped his arm around my shoulders. "Wouldn't rather be anywhere else."

➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷

Later that day, insistent knocks on the front door woke me up from my nap.

Arson was gone and Dad still wasn't home yet. The sun was setting and I longed to go back to sleep.

I put the book I had fallen asleep reading back on the nightstand, over a pile of unfinished homework. And against my better judgment, I pushed the sheets away and stood from my bed.

I climbed down the stairs under the pale light of my phone's flashlight and tried not to trip.

Now the doorbell rang along with the incessant pounding on the door.

I walked across the living room and reluctantly opened the door to find Matthew and a nearly unconscious Avan with his arm wrapped around Matthew's neck.

Matthew's face appeared drained of all his energy but he held on to his friend's arm so he wouldn't lose his balance.

"Ava, I'm sorry for coming here so late," Matthew said, as soon as he saw me. "But he asked me to drive him to Riley's and I didn't know what to do."

A/N: Thanks for reading!

I just realized that I never named Ava's dad and I laughed myself silly.

Welp, I'll have to go back and fix that.

Thank you for all the support, guys!

-D.T. ➷