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“It didn’t have to be like this,” he said
through clenched teeth. “You could have tried harder. You didn’t do
everything you could have. If you’d kept your eyes open, not given
up so soon, and seen what was going on around you, just taken more
time to think things through, think ahead, plan ahead, not gambled
everything, not risked everything.” He stared at Caleb, trembling
and then walked back to his apartment. Caleb looked down at the
floor, realizing Jonathan wasn’t so much yelling at him as he was
reprimanding himself. Arianna stood behind Caleb with her hand on
his back.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly.
Caleb shook his head while he closed the door.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, he owes you an apology for yelling at
you like that, Caleb.”

“He knows. He will when he can.” He leaned
against the door for a moment.

“Ava is probably pretty upset, too,” Arianna
assumed.

“I think we can bet on that. Maybe you should
go see her in a little while. But do me a favor and don’t say
anything to Jon.”

“I won’t,” she promised. Caleb sat down,
started writing in his notebook, and Arianna snuggled close to
him.

“Can I see?” she asked eagerly. He lowered
the book and tilted it to block her view.

“Um, well, it’s just outlines right now, lots
of scrambled notes, it’s all in process, and it wouldn’t really
make sense.” She grumbled a little as she got up to stir the beef
stew Caleb had started for dinner.

∞∞∞

Jonathan paused at his door, leaning one arm
on the doorjamb. He could hear Ava walking, heard her sniffle, get
a cup from the cabinet, and turn on the water. He couldn’t believe
how thin the door was, and how every sound echoed from inside. He
could hear a pin drop inside the apartment from the dank hallway.
He suddenly felt sick when he thought of the possibility that
Victor could have been outside the door while he and Ava were
together, just on the other side. He quickly scrubbed that thought
from his mind. No, he couldn’t have been. The sick bastard would
have purposefully timed his knock for the most intimate of moments
and enjoyed ruining that for me, too. He walked in the apartment to
see Ava finishing a glass of water. She sent him an angry look,
walked back into the bedroom, and slammed the door.

He fell onto the couch without a care of how
his back and thigh muscles screamed when he did so. He stared at
the dying fire, disheartened, and wished he hadn’t woken up that
morning. Or at least not bothered to get out of bed.

An hour went by and Jonathan just sat,
staring and brooding. He ignored the knock on the door at first,
but it became more persistent; Caleb called from the other
side.

“Jon, it’s me. Open up.”

Jonathan hesitated before he got up
mechanically, swung the door open and turned away without
acknowledging him. He sat back down on the couch while Caleb closed
the door.

“Where’s Ava?” he asked. Jonathan pointed to
the bedroom door without looking up. Caleb stoked the fire and
added the last log. He sat down and the two were quiet. Another
knock at the door caused Jon to sigh heavily. It hurt his aching
thigh muscles to keep getting up from the sagging sofa, and he
grumbled as he raised himself. Aryl stood with Claire beside
him.

“We brought a pie,” Aryl said as Claire held
it up. Jonathan nodded and stepped aside so they could come in.

Aryl looked at him then at Caleb. “What’d I
miss?” he asked.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Caleb said.

“Where’s Ava?” Claire asked, looking around.
Jonathan again pointed to the bedroom door.

“I’d be careful, she’s liable to throw
something at you. Let her know it’s you first,” he warned Claire.
“She isn’t quite herself today.”

She knocked and called to Ava through the
door. The knob turned and Claire slipped in. Aryl took a seat in
between Jonathan and Caleb, looking at each of them in turn.

Jonathan began speaking rapidly and with
irritation. “Victor found a reason to show up this afternoon just
to remind me how miserable my life really is, and I wanted to kill
him, but I can’t kill him because I’ll go to jail. Unless I hide
the body really well, and frankly I hurt too badly to dig a ditch
right now, so I have to wait to kill him. In the meantime, I have
to sit and wonder when he’s going to show up again. And this is how
Ava found out that we had to rent from him, and now she’s furious
with me because I didn’t tell her, and she’s holed up in the
bedroom and won’t talk to me, and then I went down and yelled at
Caleb for this whole mess.” He paused to take a breath. “Sorry,” he
grumbled, glancing slightly toward Caleb.

“Apology accepted,” Caleb said quietly and
looked to Aryl, “I guess I won’t need to fill you in later,” he
said and grinned.

“No,” Jonathan said firmly, hearing yet
another knock on the door. “I’m not getting that.”

Caleb stood. “It’s probably Ahna,” he said as
he opened the door. She peeked in cautiously.

“Everything okay?” she whispered. Caleb
nodded her inside.

Arianna hated yelling and confrontations
unless, of course, it was her doing the yelling and
confronting.

“Ava and Claire are in the bedroom,” Caleb
told her.

Aryl turned to Jonathan. “I’ve got an idea,”
he started.

“Does it involve you and a woman’s dress?
Because if it does, count me out this time,” Jonathan said
flatly.

“Hey, you have to admit, that was fun,” Aryl
said and grinned. “But no. No dresses or lipstick involved.”

“What is it then?” Caleb asked.

“We’ve been wrestling bags of flour and rice
the last few days–”

“Don’t remind me,” Jonathan interrupted and
dropped his head back.

“Well, I was thinking that flour and rice has
to come from somewhere, a bulk supplier, probably from down south,
or overseas.”

“Go on.” Caleb’s ears perked up.

“I say we try to find out where it’s coming
from, find out the names of as many suppliers as we can, what
they’re selling at, and then find out who the major purchasers are
over here. If we can start buying and steal some of the larger
accounts by selling it cheaper, we could come out ahead.”

“That’s a possibility,” Caleb said
distractedly, his mind turning over the idea.

“You want to start dealing in flour?”
Jonathan mocked.

“Well, yeah. I want to look into it anyway.
See if it’s viable at least,” Aryl defended.

“Do you have any idea how much we’d have to
buy to turn a decent profit? Where would we store it? And what
about delivery? Are we supposed to carry the flour bag by bag to
the bakeries and restaurants?”

“I just want to look into it, Jon. I don’t
have all the answers. And when Caleb and I get all the information
together, that’s when we’re gonna count on you to work out the
numbers. You can tell us how much would be needed to turn a profit
or if it’s even worth trying.” Jonathan thought about it for a
moment.

“I just don’t see how something like that
would work,” he said, discouraged.

“Well, you don’t need to right now. I’ll get
with you again after me and Caleb have had some time to poke
around.”

“Fine,” Jonathan shrugged, uninterested. Aryl
turned to Caleb and gave him a list of things to look into by
asking around the yard. He had his own mental list he would work on
as well. Caleb was eager to do something, anything that might lead
them out of this place.

There was a light rapping at the door.

“It’s Grand Central Terminal around here!”
Jonathan yelled as he pushed himself up off the sofa again. “Who
the hell can that be? Everybody’s here!” he said, throwing his arms
out, flabbergasted. He opened it to see Maura standing on the
threshold, holding up a clean and freshly plucked chicken by the
neck, a beady little eye staring right at Jonathan.

“Good Lord,” he said, flinching when he saw
it.

“Well, hello to ye, too, Mr. Jonathan,” she
said and smiled. “I see you’ve missed me. I brought ye a
housewarmin’ gift,” she said, holding out the chicken. He started
to reach for it but pulled away when the chicken's head flopped
over to the other side of Maura’s hand.

“Maybe, ah, you could just put it in the
kitchen, Maura?” She laughed at his squeamishness and walked into
the tiny apartment.

“Better yet, why don’t I put this on to cook?
So it doesna go bad. Nothin’ stinks worse than a rotten chicken
carcass.”

“I really wouldn’t know, Maura,” Jonathan
said, slightly disgusted at the dead animal in raw form. She said
hello to Caleb and Aryl and set to work in the kitchen. If she had
been shocked to see the dilapidated place they now called home, she
did a very good job at hiding it. Surely, Charles must have warned
her, Jonathan thought gratefully.

“Where’s Miss Ava? I don’t suspect she’s out
and about by herself?” she asked Jonathan, who was standing near
the kitchen entrance.

“She’s in the bedroom,” Jonathan said,
staring the chicken in the eye and thinking on what a truly strange
day this had been.

“Is she ill?” Maura asked with panic.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Maybe a little sick of
me,” he added under his breath.

“Aye, I’ll go in to see her straight away,”
Maura said, putting the large pot of water on to boil.

“Mr. Caleb, be a love and whack that
chicken’s head off fer me?” she asked. “I’ll be back out to put it
in the pot directly. We’ll eat in an hour.”

“Sure, Maura.” Caleb didn’t think twice about
it, having slaughtered chickens his entire childhood. Jonathan’s
eyes were wide, and he went to sit down, not wanting any part of
chicken-head-whacking.

Caleb raised the butcher’s knife, then
paused, getting an idea that made him smile ear-to-ear. He put one
hand into the cavity of the chicken, grasping the back of the
chicken’s head with the other, turning it side-to-side. He
suppressed his own laughter as he quietly snuck into the living
room. He walked behind the couch where Jonathan sat and held the
chicken very close to the side of his head. Aryl watched this
unfold and could barely keep a straight face.

Caleb thrust the chicken in front of Jonathan
and moved the head to peck wildly at his face, making loud,
clucking noises. Jonathan screamed a girlish scream that set Aryl
into hysterics. Jonathan smacked at the chicken, and the carcass
flew across the room, skidded on the floor, and hit the wall with a
thud.

“Maura’s gonna kill you!” Aryl howled at
Caleb. Caleb picked up the chicken and dusted it off.

“It's fine,” he said, laughing, although the
rough, wood floor had torn bits of skin off. Caleb rinsed it and
chopped the head off, still laughing. He propped it on the counter
in a way that Maura wouldn’t notice the torn skin and dust he
couldn’t rub off. Just then, she poked her head out of the bedroom
door. “Fer the love of God, what’s goin’ on out here?” she cried
out.

“Oh, nothing, Maura, Caleb just told us a
joke is all,” Aryl said, wiping his eyes. Caleb stood to block her
view of the chicken.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, his face
quivering. Maura eyed them suspiciously and withdrew into the
bedroom.

“What were they doing out there?” Claire
asked.

“Lord only knows,” Maura said, shaking her
head and sat on the bed with the other women. “Now, you’re all in
here, and they’re all out there. Who in here is mad at who out
there?” she asked. Claire and Arianna pointed at Ava.

“What’d he do, love?” Maura laughed
lightly.

“It’s a long story, Maura,” Ava said with a
tired sigh.

“Now, I’ve got time fer it, and it’s probably
not a man-mistake I’ve not already heard of, either,” she
assured.

After a moment’s deliberation, she spoke with
a frustrated tone, “I’m mad at Jonathan for not telling me who he
had to rent from.” She went on to explain what a horrible person
Victor was, and briefly about how they had a relationship right
before Jonathan.

“A'right, I see why yer mad at him for that.
But my first question is, love, how in the world did ye ever find
yourself with someone that awful in the first place?”

“Another really long story,” Ava said,
sighing. Maura raised her eyebrows, waiting. Ava relented.

“My cousins introduced us. At first, I
thought they were being kind by arranging for me to meet so many
people, but I soon realized they didn’t really care what kind of
man they arranged for me to meet. They just hoped one would marry
me so I would leave. Well, they arranged for me to meet
Victor.”

Maura poked her leg. “Go on, my dear.” Ava
took a deep breath.

“He was fun, at first, and he was nice
enough. But things started changing very fast, and, after only a
couple of months, he asked me to marry him. I wouldn't give him an
answer. He kept asking and I kept dodging. I knew I couldn’t marry
him. I didn’t love him. Something was missing and no matter how
nasty my cousins got, I was going to wait and marry someone I
loved. Anyway, my constant refusal to give him an answer upset him.
He started telling everyone we were officially engaged. One night
at a dinner party, I asked him to stop telling people that we were
engaged when I had not said yes. And I said this in front of all of
the guests. So, he demanded an answer right then and there, and I
said no. That really upset him.” She raised her eyebrows and looked
down, twisting her skirt around her finger. “Jonathan was sitting
right across from me. Every time I looked up, he was looking at me.
Victor noticed that and stormed off, dragging me into the parlor,
yelling and cursing. I told him that it was over. And just when he
pulled back his arm, someone grabbed it, spun him around, and laid
him out right there.” Ava smiled despite her anger. “It was
Jonathan. He had followed us out of the dining room.” Claire gasped
in romantic awe.