Free The Slow Moon by Elizabeth Cox

grapes and apples.” Carl seemed to be bragging.
    “I’ve eaten,” said Louise. She lifted a prepared bottle from the refrigerator and warmed it in the bottle warmer. The room grew quiet as the bottle heated; Carl seemed to be waiting for her to be finished and leave.
    “I think Helen’s getting better,” Louise said. “I mean, I think she’s gonna be up and about very soon. Very soon.” She turned and gave them a smile.
    “That’s good,” said Ava. “You think she’d like some of this salad?”
    “I don’t think tuna fish is the best thing for someone who needs a
bland
diet.” Louise’s words came out of her mouth like swords. She hadn’t meant to sound quite that sharp, but as she went back upstairs and noticed that the laughter had stopped, she was glad she’d said it in just that way.
    Ava had come back to town every summer since that summer of illness, and Louise, along with everybody else, had seen Carl and Ava driving around town together, eating at the diner, or with Helen going to a movie. Louise always wondered if Helen knew—if she knew and turned her head, if she knew and didn’t care, if she knew and thought it would end by itself. The affair had begun when Crow was four; now he was sixteen. Ava had never married, and George liked to say that Carl Davenport’s luck was going to run out one of these days.
    “So you think it’s a
lucky
thing to have two women, do you?” Louise asked.
    “I
would
think so,” said George. “If I didn’t have you.”
    “Oh, baby, that is a
fine
answer. At least I
think
that’s a fine answer.”
    George let well enough alone.

Ten
    A VA GOT OUT of the car and brought her suitcase to the porch. She walked into the hallway where Helen was holding Carl like he was a tree. “Helen,” she said.
    Helen startled out of herself and turned. “Ava.”
    “Carl thought I should come,” Ava said quickly. “He thought you might need me.”
    Carl jerked with embarrassment. “I’m going upstairs,” he said.
    Helen turned toward Ava. She let herself be held by her sister, trying to think how Ava might be able to help her. Growing up, Helen had always been the responsible one. As they climbed the stairs to the guest room, Helen carried Ava’s suitcase.
                      
    During visits to her sister’s house—Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and several weeks in the summer—Ava worked hard to make her presence felt. She cooked and served dinner. She baked pies and cakes. Now she got busy washing clothes, and within a few hours she was folding Carl’s underwear and T-shirts carefully on his dresser. She avoided talking about Crow unless Helen brought it up. Earlier, upon arriving, Ava asked Helen if she was going to visit Crow in the jail or wait for him to come home tomorrow. Helen ignored the question. She didn’t even lift her head.
    “You don’t have to do laundry,” Helen told Ava. “Ginna comes in three times a week.”
    Ginna, a teenage girl whose mother had a neurological problem, came after school to earn money. Helen paid her handsomely and often gave Ginna something to take home to her mother. She sent flowers and food, and once, after Ginna mentioned that her mother couldn’t get downstairs very well, Helen bought a tray that propped easily on the bed.
    “Well,” said Ava, “Ginna will have an easy time this week. I like to do it, Helen. I don’t have anybody to take care of at home.” Ava could feel Helen watching her lower backbone. She could feel her older sister’s judgment about her choices in life.
    “Seems like you could’ve found somebody to be with by now,” said Helen. She began to put away Carl’s clothes into drawers. Ava sat on the bed and watched her.
    “Yes, it does.” Ava sighed wistfully.
    “I mean, at some point, you’ve got to get tired of just having affairs.” She turned to look at Ava. “Anybody new?”
    “Not really.”
    “What’re you waiting for?”
    “Something like you have.”