Chapter Five

Ava

I reach for my mug of hot cocoa and stretch my legs out on the couch. Usually, I'd spend my Friday nights reading, but I opted to watch the newest real-life crime drama on my streaming service. I don't usually do anything scary or suspenseful on account of I live alone and I'm a bit of a chicken, but I remember hearing about this particular case a couple years ago on the news, and it gripped my heart. Two children went missing, and the parents were responsible. The parents have since had their day in court and were both found guilty, leaving a small community in Tennessee reeling from what happened to these young children at the hands of their parents.

My gray-and-white tabby cat, Tabitha, is snuggled on the blanket at my feet, sleeping. She's the most temperamental cat, usually preferring to hide beneath my bed or spread out behind the couch near my heat register, so when she chooses to make her appearance known by lying with me, I'm not going to balk.

I've always been a cat person. I have nothing against other types of pets, but when I was a little girl, my dad and I rescued a stray that showed up at the farm, and I've been a cat lover ever since. Socks, named after his white feet on an otherwise black-and-gray body, was my best friend and went everywhere with me. Of course, after Socks arrived, a couple more followed, ensuring our farm always had a litter or two of kittens running around. The barn was always full of feline activity.

Tabitha was one of the barn cats I rescued about three years back. Her mother took off almost immediately after birth, leaving a small litter of two in need of tons of care. Between my dad and I, we bottle fed those babies every day, but sadly, only one survived. I felt a kinship to that surviving kitten, having lost my own mother just two short years before.

Tabitha has been with me ever since.

I carefully reach down and run my hand across her soft back, showering her with pets and attention, while keeping my legs and feet completely still so she doesn't get mad and move. She cracks open one eye and looks my way, annoyance flinting across her face. She adjusts herself, giving me her back, which is both not surprising and annoying. I mean, it's not like I wasn't the one who mothered her to life after her own mom abandoned her, but whatever.

The wind has picked up in the last hour or so, rattling my windows on the north side of the house, which just so happens to be where my couch is positioned. Snow is falling outside, adding to the already covered roadways and yards. I shoveled my front and back steps earlier, but now that it's coming down again and will be for the better part of the night, I'll have a big mess to clean up in the morning.

Just as the documentary begins to reconstruct the tragic scene that resulted in the death of the kids, I hear a loud groan outside, like wood creaking and bending. It reminds me of the scene in Titanic when the ship was flexing and getting ready to snap in half.

Holding my breath, I turn toward the window. The shade is still up because I enjoy watching the snow fall, and that gives me the perfect line of sight to see my front porch cave in. The rumble of the material breaking and falling has me letting out a scream. The force of the roof caving in causes my wall to shake and my window to break.

The cat is long gone, probably hiding under my bed at this point. My heart is pounding so loud, I can no longer hear the wind howl outside, but I can now feel it, thanks to the big cracks in my front window that look as if the weight of the roof pressing against it and the gale force winds might do it in completely.

I scramble from the couch and go in search of my cell phone. My hands are shaking as I reach for the device. It takes two attempts at putting in my passcode, adding to my frustration, but finally, I get the digits in properly and tap the first number in my call favorites. It's not too late, so hopefully Dad isn't already in bed, sleeping.

"Hello?"

"Dad, I think my front porch roof caved in," I tell him, as I blink hard to keep the tears at bay. "My window is broken, and I…I don't know what to do."

"I'm on my way, Ava Grace. Give me a little extra time to get there," he says. I can hear him rustling around the house.

My heart drops into my stomach. "The roads," I start, glancing out the kitchen window and watching the snow fall.

"I'll be fine, honey. The truck has four-wheel drive, and I've heard the plow is already out to try to stay ahead of it."

I nod. "All right, but please be careful," I say, sniffling. I'm not sure where this wave of emotions has come from, but it hits me like a ton of bricks.

"Always. Be there shortly, Ava Grace. Stay away from that broken window." His voice is gentle and kind, just like always.

"Will do. Love you," I whisper. The moment he replies, I hang up, cradling my phone to my chest.

I can't believe this is happening. I've spent so much time over the last couple of years making small, affordable updates to my house and property. The front porch, while appearing dated with its lean-to style, slanted roof, seemed sturdy. Apparently, the weight of snow and the constant freezing and thawing of ice has taken its toll on the structure, causing it to collapse.

Redoing the front entrance to my home is on my to-do list. My plan was to rebuild the porch, adding a peak in the middle and extending it out to cover more of the front of the house. Now, those incredibly costly repairs are going to need to be examined sooner, rather than later. I'll have to replace the window for sure, and maybe more. I've been saving since my last home renovation project in the kitchen, but if this issue requires a new roof, I definitely won't have enough for that.

Don't get ahead of yourself, Ava.

I take a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. There's no reason to worry about things I don't know yet, nor can control.

Slipping out of the kitchen, I head for my bedroom to put on a few layers of warmer clothes and check on Tabitha. I grab the first pair of thick flannel pants I can find and pair them with a random mismatched fleece sweatshirt. When I've added a little more warmth, I drop to my knees and peer under my bed. Balled up against the wall is my cat, glaring at me as if I somehow caused the roof to fall and my window to break on purpose, my cat sighs before closing her eyes and ignoring me completely.

So judgy.

Retrieving a thick pair of wool socks, I take them to my living room and slip them on my feet before heading to the mudroom off the back of the house to put on my snow boots, stocking hat, and winter coat. When I'm finally bundled up, I go through the back door and enter my attached garage, since I'm certain the front entrance is going to be completely blocked by the caved-in porch.

I grab the shovel positioned by the door and prepare to make my way to the front of the house. The snow continues to fall as I head outside, my face getting pelted with wet snowflakes and cold wind, but I push through the discomfort, determined to shovel a path to the front.

Halfway up my driveway, a full-size truck rumbles around the corner and slowly pulls in. Relieved Dad made it to me safely, I give up on my quest to shovel snow and walk his way. He's just exiting the big Ford when I reach his side.

Dad glances to my front porch and whistles. "That's a doozy, Ava Grace."

I turn to see the damage for myself, my throat suddenly dry and tears starting to burn my eyes. "That's not good." The posts that once held up my porch roof are broken, and the roof itself is hanging from where it was connected to my roof and hanging against the side of the house.

"No, but it could be worse. Let me see if I can get up there and check on the brace structure. It's held up, which is why the porch is like that, but we need to assess the damage."

"Tonight? I don't think you need to be climbing ladders in this weather," I tell him.

He looks up, hands on his hips, as he considers our options. "You're right, but I need to at least see what the damage is. Then we'll board up your window so it doesn't blow in or break more. With the roof blocking it, I don't think it will, but the wind is supposed to keep up all night, and I don't want to risk it. We'll board it from the inside."

I swallow hard, wishing there were another way to fix the damage, but I know there isn't. Not at this point of the evening, with limited visibility and resources and the weather not playing nice. "Yeah, okay. I think I still have some sheets of plywood in the garage," I state.

We go to the garage and retrieve the ladder and plywood. It's not a full sheet, but it'll work for tonight and should cover most of, if not all, the window. I help Dad by holding the ladder as he climbs up to assess the damage. "Good news is there doesn't appear to be damage to the trusses or braces. I think the old poles were rotting and snapped under the weight of the snow."

I sigh, trying to shield my eyes from the wind as I hold the ladder. "Okay. Why don't you get down now before you fall."

He chuckles, carefully climbing down the ladder. The moment his feet are firmly planted on the ground, he shakes the gathered snow from his head and refolds the ladder. "All right, let's get inside so we can help protect the window. You can call the contractor tomorrow for an estimate."

His words finally register, causing me to stop in my tracks. "Contractor?"

He glances back, pausing in the middle of the driveway. "Yeah, contractor."

Images of Gavin filter through my head, like a parade of the town's hottest guy. "Umm, I guess I just assumed I could hire you."

He chuckles again, continuing on his trek to my garage. As soon as we're inside, he informs me, "I can do small cosmetic repairs, but I'd prefer you have a professional look at this one, Ava Grace. Besides, Gavin's good."

I nod, my throat suddenly dry at the thought of having Gavin here…in my house. "You're right. I'll give him a call Monday morning."

"Tomorrow, sunshine." His words are adamant and full of concern. "With a potential roof issue, you don't want to wait."

"But…it's Saturday tomorrow, and he might have his daughter," I counter.

"I understand that, but I'm sure Gavin has contingencies in place where his kid is concerned. My concern is my kid," he informs me with a gentle smile. "And my kid needs to make sure her roof isn't going to cave in on her."

I sigh, knowing he's right. Plus, it's supposed to keep snowing this weekend, which means the build-up on my roof will continue. The last thing I'd want is more damage and a potential water leak. "Yeah, okay. I'll call in the morning."

"Thank you," he says with a smile. "I'll text you his cell phone number."

"Thanks for coming into town to help me," I say, as he hangs the ladder back up on the hooks.

"Of course, sunshine. You can call me anytime." He gives me a big hug before going for the piece of plywood he pulled from the back wall. I retrieve my hammer and some nails, hating the fact we're about to put holes in my walls or trim, but understanding it's necessary. Wisconsin winters can be brutal at times, and the last thing I want is for the weather outside to come inside.

We manage to get the wood in the house, and after taking off our heavy winter attire and pulling my couch out from in front of the window, I hold the board in place while my dad secures it to my trim. "Since the window will need replacing, I think it'll be easier to also change the trim than to try to reuse it and fill the holes. I'm sure Gavin can do that, but if not, that's an easy project for us."

Dad and I have worked together on most of the upgrades to my house. I did hire my brother-in-law to do the plumbing and heating stuff, but otherwise, Dad and I have tackled the rest. I adore spending time with him, especially working side by side. It reminds me of when I was younger and working on the farm. While my sister did her share of chores, she preferred to be inside with Mom, whereas I made sure I was outside, running alongside my dad.

"That should hold until Gavin can come and take a look," Dad announces once the board is secured in place. "You know you can come spend the night at my house if you'd prefer."

I flash him a smile. "Thanks, but I'm okay here."

He nods before putting on his coat and boots and collecting the hammer and nails. "Offer's always open. You need me, call."

"I will. Thanks, Dad," I say, giving him one more hug.

"All right, I'm gonna head home. I'll lock up the garage when I'm done in there," he announces, walking toward the back door.

"Love you," I say, giving him a kiss on his scruffy cheek, which tickles my lips.

"Love you too, Ava Grace. Let me know what Gavin says."

"I will," I confirm, waving as he exits my house, locking the back door behind him as he goes.

Just as I flip off the kitchen light, I hear a shovel scraping the ground. A quick glance out the kitchen window confirms what I already know. My dad is finishing my shoveling. It doesn't surprise me, since he's spent the last five years going above and beyond for my sister and me. Ever since Mom passed away, he keeps himself incredibly busy. I've always thought it was easier for him that way, as opposed to sitting at home in the big house they used to share, surrounded by the quiet and memories.

I listen as he finishes up his snow removal and returns the shovel to the garage. I peek out the kitchen window and watch as he exits, making sure the door is secured before he leaves. I run over to my phone and type out a quick message, hitting send before he pulls out of the driveway.

Me: Thank you. Love you.

Dad: Not a problem, Ava Grace. Love you too.

Smiling, I take my phone to my bedroom and slip it onto the bedside charger. He's called me by my first and middle name for as long as I can remember, much like he calls my sister Analise Nicole, and with each grandchild born—my sister's twins—he promptly continued the same tradition by calling them Molly Mae, middle named after my mom, and Riley Grace, after me. I sometimes wonder if he'll do the same to my children, if and when that day comes.

I've always loved kids. It's why I became a teacher. Well, that and a passion for school. I was the kid who completed the summer reading list, usually within the first three to four weeks of summer break, as well as submitted any additional "practice" work they sent home. Math problems, small writing assignments about what I was doing during break, and even fun history or science projects. I was a teacher's dream, and maybe that's why I found myself steering toward the same profession I looked up to as a kid.

I can't help but wonder what Annabelle will become when she's older. She reminds me so much of myself, always wanting to learn something new.

Making my way to the bathroom in the hallway, I prep the shower and start to remove the extra layers of clothing I put on to go outside. My mind jumps to tomorrow, when I'll call Gavin. Will he personally come over to check out my porch roof and window, or will he send his right-hand man over? I've met Max a few times around town, but don't know much about him. Is it weird that I prefer Gavin to inspect the damage himself? Not just because he's easy on the eyes, but simply because I do trust him as a professional.

All I can do is think about him, picturing him in my space. Even after I've finished my shower and have gotten myself ready for bed.

I'm still thinking about him.

Something tells me this is going to be a long, sleepless night.