the painting,” she said. “It’s in the sunporch. Since I thought we’d shoot in there, so…”
“No problem. It’ll take me a minute to get set up.”
Ava backed out of the room. As soon as she was in the hallway, she shoved the pill bottle into the decorative vase that sat on the entryway table. She hurried to grab her painting, checking her phone again as she did.
Logan was standing at her easel when she came back in. It made her chest physically tighten when she remembered which painting was there. Of all the things in her room that made her feel exposed, this was by far the worst.
“This is incredible,” he said.
She nodded and mumbled a thanks. It was a church, simple and plain yet oddly beautiful.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“Mexico City.”
She was painting it from an image on a postcard that was clipped to her easel.
“You’ve been here?” he asked, pointing to the postcard.
“No.”
She didn’t elaborate.
“Oh-kay,” he said.
“I’ll move it so we can put my gallery painting here.”
It was hard to get a good grip on the canvas while it was still wet, and she accidentally knocked it against the edge of the postcard. It fluttered to the ground and landed message side up. Logan bent to grab it. “Don’t!” she shouted so loudly that it startled them both. “Don’t read it!”
“I wasn’t!”
“Don’t look at it.”
“Okay!”
Logan looked at the ceiling. Out the window. Anywhere but down.
Ava laid the canvas on an old towel that she kept for this exact purpose. Then she picked up the postcard and put it away in the closet. Logan was still staring at the ceiling. “Can I look now?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not even gonna ask,” he said.
Good. Because she wasn’t going to tell him. She set her gallery painting on the easel. “Let’s just get this over with,” she said.
It’s not like Jordan meant to forget about Ava. She just lost track of time. Her dad was helping her with her college essays, and even though he could be brusque with writing advice, he was really good at it. She was trying to write an essay about why she wanted to attend Northwestern and was having a surprisingly hard time coming up with a good answer. She knew they had a good journalism program and she’d seen the campus once and she liked it. Her dad didn’t think it was a good enough answer to set her apart from the pack.
“Because one of their school colors is purple. And that’s my favorite color?” she offered up hopefully.
Her dad told her to put some more thought into it. Jordan didn’t get very far into the thinking process before her phone chimed.
I can’t stop thinking about what you said.
The number wasn’t saved in her phone, but she knew exactly who it was. Scott Mercer. She could see that he was still typing. A second later, another message appeared.
You’re right. That neighborhood does deserve a park.
More typing and then a third message.
Can you talk?
Jordan looked over at her dad. “I’ll be right back. I have to do something.”
He waved her away without even looking up from the computer screen. Jordan texted a response.
Give me thirty seconds.
She went into her bedroom. She wanted to be near her whiteboard. And she wanted privacy. She took a breath and dialed.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. So you’ve been thinking about the park?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “But this has to be completely off the record. Is that cool?”
She wondered why he was calling her, then. “Okay.”
“I wish,” he said. “I wish the councilman was handling this differently. I wish he could see that the park has value for the community.”
She stared at her whiteboard. “Why doesn’t he?”
She heard Scott sigh. “How much time do you have?”
Jordan stretched out. “I’ve got all the time in the world.” Then she remembered where she was supposed to be. “Shit!” Jordan bolted up. She’d forgotten about Ava.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Jordan scrambled to find her shoes. “I’m late. Oh my god. I’m so late for something.”
She almost fell over as she pulled one of her boots on.
“I hope it’s not important.”
“It is. It’s very important. My friend is going to kill me.”
“Oh god. I hope she doesn’t. I was enjoying talking to you. Well, go run. And if you’re still alive later, maybe give me a call.”
Jordan hung up. Her heart was thudding in her chest for about a million different reasons. She quickly dialed Ava and it went straight to voice mail. Jordan left a frantic message. “I am so sorry. I’m