The Christmas Pic

23. Ava

CHAPTER 23

AVA

I walk along a winding wooden footbridge toward the sea. The gentle waves lap against the pilings and kiss my toes through the slats. I breathe in the fresh Maldivian air as my bungalow comes into view. Max waves in their wetsuit, beckoning me to the sea. I’m finally here.

Suddenly, the wind picks up, whipping my hair into my face. I jog toward Max, but the bridge begins to sway. I pick up my pace to a run, but Max doesn’t get any closer. Concern grows on their face.

I look down, the wooden fixtures waving left and right beneath my feet, before I’m thrown from the path into the churning sea.

I’m fully submerged, unable to breathe, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

It’s Aubrey Plaza, floating like a goddess amongst the stormy chaos.

“You’re so gay,” she says with a wink.

And then I wake up. Next to Jo. Again. How does this keep happening?!

This time I’m fully clothed and on her couch, but somehow it’s even more intimate than before. One of her arms lies beneath my head in the classic arm-numbing boyfriend pose that men always complain about (which, for the record, she is handling quite well), while the other drapes over my waist, a small sleepy smile on her lips. I try to slip out from under her arm to take off my suit jacket, but she stirs.

“You fell asleep,” she mumbles.

“Appears you did, too,” I quip, taken aback by my own peppiness at seven a.m. “What did I miss? Please tell me she ended up with Aubrey Plaza.”

Jo grimaces. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

My jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s basically this century’s biggest upset in lesbian media. Maybe all media.”

“Well then, I’m glad I fell asleep,” I huff.

“Aw, is someone upset her fantasies didn’t get fulfilled?” she teases, pushing our boundary. Her flirtiness ruffles me. I throw a pillow at her and she goes to lob one back at me, but it winds up flying directly into the face of her mother Carol, standing in the doorway.

“We–we fell asleep watching–” I stammer, gesturing to the long-gone movie on the TV like a teenager caught in the act.

Carol waves me off and claps her hands together. “None of my business! Who’s ready for breakfast?”

Jo gives me an embarrassed ‘welcome to my life’ smirk. Here goes nothing, I guess.

We shuffle into the kitchen after Jo lends me a slightly more casual outfit option of sweats and a Harmony Springs Pride Stride 5K tee. All eyes are on us from the kitchen table. Lena subtly hides behind her coffee mug, eyes wide, while Matt’s jaw has practically dropped into the giant stack of fluffy pancakes in front of him.

“Nothing to see here besides my famous pancakes!” Carol says, adding more pancakes to the already-full plate in front of Matt. He leans around the tower of hotcakes, his eyes going back and forth between me and Jo, me then Jo, me then Jo …

“Don’t make me force you to sign an NDA,” I say, sitting across from him.

It’s dead silent, until Lena chokes on her coffee with a chortle. “I love her,” she says to Jo, who turns red.

“Me, too,” Matt says. “And for the record I would be honored to sign an NDA for you.”

“Want some orange juice, Ava?” Carol asks.

Just like that, everything is back to normal. I rarely take anyone at their word–I’ve learned the hard way not to–but here at the cozy Fisher breakfast table, I feel like I can trust new people for the first time in a long time.

I kind of love it.

After a heaping serving of carbohydrates upon carbohydrates, Jo and I walk outside as Max pulls up in the rental car and rolls down the window.

“Ava,” they say with a nod.

“Max,” I say back. It’s the most professional we’ve ever been, and it communicates all that needs to be said.

“Emma should be here any minute,” Jo says as she checks her phone. “What’s the plan for today?”

“B-roll!” Max says, stepping out of the car.

“We need footage to capture the full scope of Harmony Springs,” I tell her. “Our content needs to make the audience fall in love with the truck, the town, you.”

I hear it as soon as it leaves my mouth but there’s no way to walk it back, so I keep my face practiced and neutral. “We’ll drive around and get some footage of you and Emma interacting with the community, then we’ll do a one-on-one interview.”

Emma sleepily arrives a few minutes later, giving Max a sideways glance I can’t help but clock. I think it’s safe to say they both know exactly what’s going on, even if I don’t.

Jo and I aren’t acting like we’re just friends–you don’t spoon your friends like that. But we’re also not together by any means. Lena and Matt were a bit taken aback, but Carol acted as if it was a totally normal occurrence for Jo to bring a surprise guest to breakfast. It stirs something in my stomach. This may be new and confusing and exciting for me, but it isn’t anything special for Jo. Which is why, from here on out, we’re going to stick to accomplishing what I came here to do, no distractions.

Jo drives the rental car around town, giving us a broader Harmony Springs tour. We drive past the local watering hole–Cheers Queers–down to a beautiful gazebo on a lake. It’s white and simple, probably the one thing that fits that description in all of the Springs.

Jo parks and takes out her DSLR to snap photos of a couple of locals eloping by the water. Max films Jo at work while I become enraptured by the vows. Two people who love one another so deeply that they’d wake up early on a Tuesday morning to commit their lives to each other. I’ve only ever been that committed to my business, and I imagine what it’s like to experience that, but with another soul –ya know, if those existed. Someone who is looking out for me as much as I am for them. Someone who comes before my business, my work, even me. It’s almost unfathomable. Yet here they are, so sure of themselves, so sure of each other.

Snap.

I turn as Jo captures my profile through the 35mm film camera that has suddenly appeared in her hands.

“Where’d that come from?”

She takes another shot of my bewildered face.

“The good stuff is over there!” I shoo her off, pointing to the couple.

“That’s what you think.” She turns and waltzes back to the car .

“Delete that,” I say to Max who documented the moment on their phone.

“Already done,” they say, trying to hide their smile.

After a few more hours of roaming the town and collecting footage, Jo is losing steam.

“I’m starving,” Jo says. Admittedly, she’s been lugging around multiple cameras, switching between heavy zooms and fixed lenses all day, while the rest of us watched on in awe, arms empty.

“Not so fast,” says Max. “We’ve still got to do Jo’s interview.”

“Where should we shoot since we don’t have the truck?” Jo asks.

“What about Rog’s old darkroom?” Emma chimes in.

Jo twists her lips, unsure.

“That’d be great, if that works for you, Jo,” says Max. “We’ll go pick up lunch and you two can interview each other while we wait.”

“Can’t a girl sit and eat for a minute?” Jo grumbles.

“Not with a deadline like this. Right, Ava?”

Max isn’t wrong. Plus we need to prove to the Board we’re making things happen over here, not just canoodling in drag bars.

“I’ll order on the company card. Anything specific you all would like?” I ask.

“Oh, no no,” Max interjects. “ You are staying to do the interviewing. Emma is coming with me.”

“Excuse me?” I am so not an interviewer. I hardly interview people at my own company anymore, so I’m not prepared for this. People ask me questions, not the other way around.

“Oh come on, Ava. I remember when you interviewed me,” Max reminisces. “In fact, I will literally never forget when you asked me who I was going to be in five years. It got me thinking about my life in a way I never imagined; it’s like you knew I was living inauthentically. And now here I am, trans as heck!”

“Max, that’s very sweet, but–”

“It’ll look good to the Board,” Max says definitively. And I can’t argue with that. The more face time I get in for them, the better. “Plus, I’ve got my company card.”

With a couple of finger guns and a flash of the corporate gold, Max and Emma bound off and I ready myself for another one-on-one with Jo. The day has been tame, but now we’re about to be alone, together, in a confined space, with so many intimate questions on my mind. I can’t be trusted to ask normal questions now. There’s one thing I can think about and she’s standing right in front of me, waiting for me to talk with her. But to be honest, all I want to do is shut up and feel her.