Chapter Eleven
Avery put the last glittery touch on her poster board then stood back and admired her handiwork. In huge, pink glittery letters, she’d made a sign that said, “Congratulations, Avery!”
It was sort of a little tradition she had when something good happened. She did it for birthdays and for Christmas, on months when she paid her bills ahead of schedule—the big milestones.
Today she’d gone all out, though.
From her ceiling, she’d tacked pink and white streamers and pink balloons littered the ground. Any minute, fast food would be arriving, and when they were finished eating, they’d dig into the cake she’d bought with “Congratulations, Avery” written across it in swirly magenta script.
In a way, she was glad she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell Holden her big news. It might be nice to have someone join in on her private little celebration. Of course, there was no doubt he’d think she was bananas, but that was half the fun of it anyway, right?
She hung the poster board above her couch, then stood back and admired it.
It truly was amazing what a few hours and a flair for arts and crafts could do.
The doorbell rang, and she skipped to the front door, pushing her hair over her shoulder. When she opened the door, she found Holden there, grinning at her with those damn irresistible hazel eyes of his.
“What’s all the fuss?” He looked around and then laughed when he caught sight of the sign.
“Did you manage to take the trash down on your own?” he asked, pointing to the congratulatory sign.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “No, I have big news.”
It felt silly, but she wanted to squeal, to take his hand or have him spin her around like they did in movies.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Do you remember that gallery we saw? Well, I took your advice and sent in my photos. They’re displaying them this weekend. Can you believe it?” This time she really did squeal, and heat poured into her cheeks. With a deep breath, she shrugged, trying to be just slightly cooler about the whole thing. “So, I thought we could have a casual celebration here.”
“That’s great. But you know, if you’d just told me, I would have done all of this for you. You didn’t have to do everything on your own.”
She blinked. That hadn’t occurred to her. “No, no, it’s fine. One trip to the dollar store and suddenly your home can be a piñata. Besides, you wouldn’t have had time. You had to get your parents from the airport. How are they?”
“I have no idea.” Holden shrugged. “I showed up to the airport and texted them a bunch, but they never came out of the terminal. I got a text from my mom a few minutes ago saying she’d handled it, and I came back here.”
Avery frowned. “How weird. Are you worried?”
“About them? No. I’m worried about whoever they roped into handling things for them, though.” Holden smiled, and his eyes softened. “I really wish you would have let me do something for you. If this works out, it could be the start of something big. Sell your photos to magazines instead of stock sites, you know?”
Her cheeks burned. “I don’t know about all that.”
“I do.” He took another step toward her, his lips only inches from hers. “Now, what kind of celebration did you have in mind?”
She winked. “I have some cake, but all the plates are dirty. So, we may have to find creative places to eat the cake off of. I was thinking I could start by putting frosting on your—”
A loud cough from the open door made them both spin around, and Avery froze as she recognized the curly white hair and familiar hazel eyes of the woman in the doorway. Her entire body seemed to be channeling all its energy into scowling at Avery.
“Mom,” Holden said. “What are you doing here?”
Mrs. Morris adjusted the broach in the middle of her Peter Pan collar, then straightened her shoulders. Like her sons, she was built from military stock—dutiful and structured. Which, Avery supposed, partly explained the sneer on her face as she took in the mess of streamers and balloons crowding the already small apartment. And the other part? Likely Avery herself—or the Bunny Ranch T-shirt she’d decided to don this morning.
“I came to see my son. I never heard from you, so I assumed you wouldn’t be at the airport. Your brother told us this might be the place to find you.”
“Where’s Dad?” Holden asked. He looked as if someone had just slapped him in the face.
Which, considering Avery felt like someone had jabbed her in the throat, seemed like a pretty decent alternative.
“I left him at the hotel. I wanted to see you and let you know we were in town. We reserved a spare room at the hotel, just in case, of course.” She flicked another weary look at Avery, then focused on her son. “I thought we might be able to spend some time together?”