Chapter Three: Mirror, mirror...

Bob leaned against the counter, his empty glass in front of him. "Wonder where that girl's got to," he said to himself. He raised his voice. "Hey Ava, you back there?" Silence.

A minute later, he heard the back door close. He realized there wasn't any music playing. That was odd - Ava usually had the stereo on. He could tell she was worried by the look on her face before she recognized him, by the absent air she'd had while they chatted. Bob pursed his lips and relaxed them again.

When Ava came back through the open doorway into the bar area, Bob's eyes reminded her of a wizened old turtle peering out from under his shell. "What's goin' on, honey?" he asked. She put a mechanical smile on.

"Oh, I'm just kind of preoccupied right now. Jason left the bar a mess again, and I can't decide what I should do about it." She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. Bob could tell she was lying. But if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to give her a hard time.

"Welll, I know he's young, but he's a good kid. Seems to bring in a fair amount of business, too," Bob played along.

Ava sighed. "Yeah. I don't think I can fire him. But I'm gonna tell him to get his ass in gear." Bob laughed.

"Good for you, honey. Everything else all right?" There was that suspicious turtle look again. Ava shrugged.

"I guess. 'Bout as good as it's gonna be, huh?" she replied. Bob gave another laugh, not fooled a whit.

"Well, you know you got a friend in me, if you need to talk," he said. Ava nodded.

"Thanks, Bob. You want another beer?"

"Yeah, pour me one more, honey. Why don't you have one yourself, on me." Bob crossed his arms and sat back on his barstool, watching how tense her shoulders seemed as she moved around behind the bar.

When she returned with both beers, she gave him his Guinness with her brilliant smile. "Now that's a real smile," he said. "You looked worried before." Ava shook her head.

"Just a couple things on my mind." She flashed another smile. "It's always something, running this place." They clinked glasses and drank. Ava set her glass on the counter and tilted her head. "I think that's my cell phone. Be right back."

She pulled the phone out of her bag, now hanging from a coathook behind the bar, and walked back into the kitchen. She glanced at the caller ID and froze, mid-stride, then flipped the phone open and said a cautious, "Hello?"

"Hey Ava, it's me, Otto," she heard, and her heart jumped up into her throat. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm at work," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "What are you up to?"

"I just got back into town, was thinking about getting some lunch," Otto replied casually.

"Well, you're welcome to come by the Pines, we've got the best lunch menu in town," Ava said, mentally smacking herself as she heard the words coming out of her mouth.

"Cool. I'll be down in a few," Otto said, and hung up. Ava stood there holding her cell phone for a second, then sprang into movement. She came out of the kitchen, dropping her phone in her bag on her way to the bathrooms.

"Doing okay, Bob?" she called out as she passed by. Bob was reading one of the weekly local papers and gave an absent wave in reply. Ava shut the bathroom door and flicked on the light, approaching herself in the mirror until she was only a few inches away.

She rarely looked at herself in the mirror anymore. Not since the baby died. She did a quick check each morning to make sure her outfit didn't look stupid, and that was it. At first, she just hadn't wanted to see all the weight she'd gained. She was counting on nursing a baby to help lose the weight - everyone said it worked like a dream - but her daughter had died five weeks before her due date, and when all was said and done, all Ava was really left with was an unending, gaping sorrow and about twenty-five extra pounds.

After Eric left her, it got even worse. She sank into a deep, quiet depression, going through the days like a glass-eyed robot, packing her flask and one-hitter along wherever she went. She'd stopped eating, for the most part, forcing some food down about once a day; people congratulated her for getting into shape. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing in their faces and carried a travel-size bottle of mouthwash in her purse so they couldn't smell the alcohol.

Now as she looked at her own face in the mirror, meeting her eyes for the first time in she couldn't remember how long, her tears welled up again. She willed them back down. "Just stop it," Ava whispered fiercely to herself. "Get a fucking grip, girl." Whenever she cried, Ava got what she called 'tomato nose', and she most definitely did not want Otto to see her looking wretched right now.

She heard the bell attached to the front door ring and froze again. The front door slammed shut. "Hey, Bob, what's goin' on, brother?" Otto's voice rang out. That was fast. Ava met her eyes in the mirror again. She splashed some water on her face and dried it, then quickly leaned over so her hair hung down, fluffed it with her hands, and flipped it back as she straightened up. He called her before coming over. He wanted to see her. What am I so worried about? Ava asked herself. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.