to see you smile - avatrice

chapter 4

Beatrice has a landmark bad day a week later. She knows she wants to talk to Ava, to see her. But she’s honestly not sure she’s even got the energy to seek Ava out.

One of the parents under her care overdosed on Sunday, but they didn’t actually die until Tuesday morning, and of course the six year old and the eight year old didn’t really realise their mother was unconscious and dying, and even if they did their mother’s probably told them never to call the ambulance because of money. But she really did not need to hear an eight year old tell her that his mother wouldn’t wake up on the phone in a voice so small and fragile that it could have been her own as a child. She’d only called because the school called her when they were non-attenders without explanation two days in a row.

She’d shown up with two paramedics and a police officer, standard operating procedure, and she’d sat with two kids way too young to have this life while their mother was pronounced dead. Fortunately, there was a crisis foster family available to take them together, but it had been the longest day she’d had in a really long time. She really did not think she had it in her to do crisis work much longer. She can’t face Camila right now, and when she calls, Beatrice ignores it. It could have been them, and she knows she’s meant to go for supervision at times like this but she’s not ready to talk about it either.

Ava finds her. She arrives to find Beatrice sitting on her verandah, not even feeling like she wants to go inside to her life and the comfort she has now. Ava’s carrying the messy burgers that take too long to arrive, a six pack of hard apple cider, and tells her they’re going to the dog park. Beatrice thinks about arguing, because she’s got nothing left her, but Ava gives her a look, and she stands up and falls into step beside the shorter girl. She tries not to notice the way Ava's shoulder covers her's, protective and supportive, and she wonders if anyone’s ever looked after her like this before.

“How did you find out?” Beatrice asks as they walk. Ava gives her a look.

“Bad news travels fast. And, like, half your coworkers think we’re dating and wanted to make sure I knew to take care of you tonight,” Ava tells her, smiling about her coworkers, like it’s funny and sweet, and not like it is brand new information that she has a massive crush on Ava. So she knows, Beatrice thinks, and she’s done nothing about it. Not exactly the news she wanted, but she’d suspected it anyway. And Ava's still her best friend. It’s probably a good day to hear it, because she doesn’t think she can summon an emotion about anything except those kids.

“I hope you told them that we weren’t going to have pity sex because I had a bad day,” Beatrice offers and Ava laughs.

“While sexual healing might be fun, my vagina is, unfortunately, not magic, and it ain’t gonna fix this one,” Ava says, and Beatrice tries not to focus on the fact that Ava said the word ‘vagina’ for the first time in her presence. She’s failing, miserably, and her face must be a picture, because Ava laughs again, and then Beatrice is laughing with her.

•••••

They sit on the ground (after Beatrice scouts for dog poo), and watch some people playing fetch with their dogs.

“I love how honest dogs are,” Ava says. “There’s not a deceptive bone in their bodies. They’re so excited to fetch that ball back, they’re excited to have pats, and they just enjoy being alive. I wish it was that easy for us.” She has some egg running down her cheek and tomato relish on her nose and she seems to not care at all and it’s the best thing Beatrice has ever seen in her life. But she sighs, and the day presses on her chest uncomfortably.