Five
Ava
Dark gray clouds covered the sky, and a chill hung in the air. Still, the farmer's market bustled. The folks of Hannibal loved their Saturday shopping.
So did Linea and I.
The threat of a storm couldn't stop us.
We passed by stalls and booths. Stopped by some and looked through items, and haggled to no end.
“We can do this, you know?” Linea dropped a brush she'd been looking
at.
“Do what?” “Open a booth.”
Linea was an enterprising woman. Every week, she came up with a new
idea of something we could do. I bit my lip. “I’m listening.”
My friend spun on the spot. “Look around us.” Shoppers. Traders. A chilly, somber day. “Yes?”
"Everyone comes out to shop on Saturdays, and we don't work on Saturdays." She latched onto my arm, pinning me with hazel eyes. "We can start our own booth. Only open on Saturdays. We can sell cleaning products." “Hmm, how's that different from the hundreds of products already on the
market?”
“Come on.” She dragged me to the next stall and picked up a bottle. “Look, just look at the ingredients.” Linea read them out loud. “They’re toxic. This is what folks use to clean their homes.”
“Girl, if you don’t drop my bleach…” The seller poked her head out of the stall.
Linea dropped it quickly, and we hurried along.
“Look, I'm not saying we’ll make a fortune, but we stand a fair chance.” “It’s a good idea,” I mused. “Since most of what we use is organic, we
can educate and enlighten others to use them, too.” “Exactly.”
We split apart for a second to make way as a man passed with a heavy basket.
As we came back together, Linea added, "Plus, you know some people would like to use our services, but they can't afford it."
“Well, if we just—”
“No, Ava, we are not cutting back our rates.”
I laughed. She knew me. We’d had this conversation lots of times.
Linea was sure if we didn't work together, I'd be cleaning homes for free. She wasn't entirely wrong.
“Look, this would be a way to help them and still make money on the side. What do you think?”
“I—”
“Ava! Yoo-hoo, Ava.”
I spun in the direction of the voice to see Mrs. Mullen. She was a stout woman in her forties. A few gray hairs played through her red hair. That hair now whipped around her face as she rushed to us.
“Hey, Mrs. Mullen.” I smiled. Linea offered a greeting, too.
“How are you today, girls?” She cast tender eyes between us. “Ava.” She smiled warmly. “I can't thank you enough for the casserole.”
My face heated. "It's nothing, and it was three weeks ago. Don't mention
it.”
“Well, the kids are still talking about it.” She took my hand and patted it.
“Thank you.”
A smile curved my lips. “Dad made it. I just brought it over.”
“Oh, Thomas. He sure does know his way around the kitchen. I hope I can return the favor someday.”
I squeezed her hand. “I’m sure you’ll get back on your feet in no time.”
Sending one last smile between Linea and me, she said, “I sure do hope so. Have a lovely day, you two.”
And then she was off.
“They do love you,” Linea chirped.
“What? No.” I continued through the aisles. “You’re very kind.”
“Anyone would do that. Doesn't matter.” To stop her from pressing the issue, I changed the subject. “So, about selling cleaning products.”
“Mm-hmm.” Linea perked up, compliments forgotten.
“What if we not only offered the products, but also a checklist?” Her brows furrowed. “Like?”
"Well, we know houses get very cluttered over time, and the biggest reason they do so is the owners aren’t keeping up daily. What if we create mock-ups of simple things they can attend to each day, so it doesn't pile up and overwhelm them?”
Linea stopped in her tracks. I turned to her. “What?”
“God, Ava. I don't know what to do with you.” She sighed. “What?” I chuckled.
“Teach them how to organize their homes?” She gaped. “That's our whole thing — cleaning and tidying up out-of-control messy homes. If we showed them how, we’d lose business.”
I thought for a moment. “Oh, I see.”
“I'm glad you do.” She shook her head. “I wonder how you'd make any money if I wasn't curbing your generosity.”
“Linea!”
She giggled, walking ahead. “I'm just saying. You’re like Santa Claus, but all year-round.”
“Yeah, well,” No argument popped up in my brain. “No one's complaining,” I finished in a small voice.
“Aww, don’t look that way.” She turned, a smile in her eyes. I shook my head. “You’re impossible, Linea.”
"The cleaning booth is still a good idea, though, right?" I nodded. “Sounds fun. We could get a front stall.”
"I think there’s a charge. We can check, though."
“Yeah, we should—” My stomach swooped, heat rushing through my body.
I stopped on the path, trying to collect myself. Someone bumped into me and offered an apology. I couldn't speak.
Could only focus on standing as my head swam. What was happening?
Warm hands touched my shoulder. “Ava, are you okay?” I blinked at my friend. “I don't know. Just feeling dizzy.”
She threw a gaze around, then pulled my arm. “Come with me.” Linea brought us to a sitting area and nudged me onto a chair. “I'll be right back.”
I buried my face in my hands and massaged my forehead. What's wrong with me?
“Here.”
I pried my hands away. Linea held a can of soda before me. “Thank you.”
The first swallow washed down my throat, bringing some stability. Linea dropped into the chair opposite me. “Feeling better?”
“A bit.”
“What was that?”
I shook my head and drank deeply. “I have no idea. But…” I dropped the can on the table. “I’ve been feeling worn out lately.”
Linea leaned in. “Since when? Why are you just telling me?”
“For about a week. It’s nothing. Probably just been working too hard and burning myself out.”
“Ava,” she chided gently, “you do too much. What if you take Monday off and I cover for you? You can rest and—”
“What? No way.” I sat up, and my head spun a little. I gritted my teeth against the sensation. "You can't do three houses all on your own in an eight- hour workday.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” I stood too fast but held my ground. “I'm fine.” Somewhat. "I'll sleep in tomorrow, and I'll be fresh as a daisy by Monday."
Linea offered a reluctant, “Okay.”
We resumed walking when she added, “But if you're the slightest bit dizzy again, you're going home.”
“Agreed.” Just to calm her down. I was fine.
We skirted the market’s exit. “Did we get everything?” Linea looked through her shopping bag. “We did.”
That settled, we headed out. The open booths gave way to the town’s streets, and soon, we walked toward my dad's grocery store.
“I’d like to say hi to Dad. I might not be able to make it for tomorrow’s dinner.”
“Cool,” Linea said.
My stomach rolled, but I refused to mention it. I couldn't let her work alone on Monday.
To distract myself, I said the first thing that came to mind. Scratch that.
The only thing on my mind.
“Did I tell you what Dad said about his friend?” “Liam?” She grinned, eyes twinkling.
I had brought this upon myself. “Yes.”
“No, tell me.” Linea scooted closer.
When I learned who he was, I told her that, but nothing more. She didn’t push it, either.
Now, though, it’d been a week. Even though I thought about him daily, I could now speak of him without blushing to my toes.
And I was dying to tell Linea.
“Dad says he was a doctor in New York City. He got fed up with the rat race and decided to come to Hannibal for a quieter life.”
“I would've sworn he worked with a secret service agency.” “Like a spy, right?”
“Yes, he has the look.”
I chuckled. “He’s just a doctor.”
“A doctor you got down and dirty with.” She pinched my side, wiggling her brows.
“Ugh, don't say it that way.” “But it was great sex.”
“Linea!” I looked around, but no one paid us any mind. "Shh.” “What? You told me it's no big deal.”
“Well, that was before I found out he's staying. He’s setting up practice here.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yep. So much for never seeing him again.”
“Well…” Linea chewed on her lip. “I’ve got nothing. That's messed up.” My stomach churned. “It is.”
"So, does your dad know?"
My heart leaped into my throat. “Of course not. And you won't say anything about it.”
“I won't breathe a word of it.”
We neared the grocery store, and I relaxed my shoulders. If I didn't tell my dad, and Linea didn’t, then all would be fine.
Liam, too, had been cooperating, turning down my dad’s dinner invites. I was sure it was because of me.
I refused to let that make me feel any type of way. It was what I wanted.
Just then, my stomach clenched up, and a sick feeling heaved up my throat. I raced to the nearest trash can and bent over it.
My breakfast came up.
“Oh, dear.” Linea appeared by my side, holding back my hair. Another wave came, and I heaved again.
Linea muttered sorry over and over until my insides emptied. I sank on my heels, pulling in a deep breath.
“That was disgusting.” I pushed aside the trash can. My quip hung in the silence between us.
“Ava,” she started, “how long have you been feeling rough?”
“A week.” I ran a hand over my forehead. I had mentioned this before. “Why?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What are you thinking?" I drew myself up, and a chill rushed through
me.
"Well, when you slept with Liam, did you use—”
My stomach sank, and I shook my head. "No, it's not possible." “Ava.” She got up close in my face. “Did you?”
"We didn't, but—" I pressed a hand to my mouth, my lungs constricting.
“It was only once. How’s that possible?” “Oh, no.”
“Don’t say that.” My voice shook. “I’m not… I can't be…” The word wouldn't leave my throat.
“Hey.” Linea captured my shaking hands. “Look at me.” I stared into hazel eyes, forcing myself to remain calm.
"We don't know for sure. It's just a theory. Maybe you're at the height of your burnout." Her light tone rang hollow, and I couldn't muster a smile.
“Look, instead of speculating, what if I just got you a pregnancy test so we can be sure?”
I grabbed onto her arm and nodded toward my dad's store. "In there?
What if Dad sees you? What if he asks?"
“He won't.” She rubbed my upper arms. “Because you’ll be distracting him.”
I let out a sigh. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Ava?”
“I’m fine.” I nodded, pulling in a breath. “Do what you need to do.”
Linea headed into the store, and I came up behind her. My eyes went to my dad's office door. Bile rose up my throat.
I just might throw up again.