Neighbourhood Watch

Jessica was exhausted. Not the satisfying kind of tired that came after a productive day. Not the pleasant ache after a long run or a difficult case finally wrapped up.

No.

This was birthday-party exhausted. The sort of exhaustion that only came from prolonged focus on too many details. The sort of exhaustion that settled behind the eyes and spread to the rest of the body like a poison.

Eighteen years.

Eighteen.

The number still didn't feel real. Ava was an adult now. The thought had been ambushing Jessica all week. While driving to work. While grocery shopping. While brushing her teeth. Every time it arrived, it carried a strange combination of pride and grief.

Because she'd done it. She'd raised a wonderful daughter. And because she'd done it...

The job was almost over.

A sigh escaped her as she curled deeper into the couch. The house felt unusually quiet. Earlier that morning, she'd been up before sunrise. Hair appointment. Makeup. Outfit selection. Every detail carefully chosen.

Not for a man.

Certainly not for Charles.

Still, there had been a certain satisfaction in looking exceptional at the party. If Charles noticed, good. If he didn't, even better.

The reflection staring back from the salon mirror had been exactly what Jessica wanted the world to see: successful, confident, beautiful, untouchable. Not because of her stellar career. Nor because of her sizable bank account. But because the years hadn't beaten her. Not yet.

The party itself had been a blur. Decorations. Presents. Food. Relatives. Questions. Noise. Far too much noise.

Charles had arrived right on time with his latest boyfriend. Billy. Young. Energetic. Flamboyant. Billy had introduced himself with enough enthusiasm to power a small city.

To Jessica's credit, she hadn't rolled her eyes. Not once.

Well...

Not where anybody could see.

A small smile touched her lips.

The young man had actually been perfectly pleasant. Annoying, but pleasant. She wondered if he knew what he was getting into, dating a man like Charles. The kind of man who loved to make promises, but didn't have the same affection for keeping them. Watching the pair feed each other cake made her question whether or not she should tell Billy about Charles' spotty relationship past. Whether or not it was the right thing to do.

She certainly would have appreciated it. For the few years that she and Charles had been together, she had thought that their relationship was built on solid ground, that they were unbreakable together. It wasn't learning that she had never really matched Charles' true sexual preferences that wounded Jessica so deeply; if he had to be gay, then she wouldn't stand in his way. It was the fact that he had gone behind her back and had multiple affairs, while she was pregnant with Ava, no less.

But that was years ago. Much of their years coparenting had been spent sniping at each other, each blaming the other for the unending tension. But Ava's birthday party was no place for the cold war. She was becoming a woman and deserved to be lauded.

Most of the afternoon had been spent observing rather than participating. The tasks that she had assigned herself had mostly been in the preparation and the setup. By the time guests started arriving, her main function was being welcoming. After things started happening, Jessica had found herself a chair and simply watched.

Watched Ava laugh.

Watched Ava open presents.

Watched relatives fuss over her.

Watched her little girl become a woman.

And God, she was beautiful. Not just physically. Beautiful in the way she carried herself. The way she made people feel welcome. The way she listened when people spoke. The way she smiled.

Jessica's chest tightened.

Ava had always been the best thing she'd ever done. Not law school. Not making partner. Not buying her first home. Not surviving the divorce.

Ava.

Always Ava.

The memory of the previous night surfaced unexpectedly. Sitting alone in her bedroom. Crying. Quietly. Pathetically. Embarrassingly. Because the future had finally arrived.

Soon enough, Ava would move out. Soon enough, the house would be empty. Soon enough, Jessica would be alone. Actually alone. Not divorced-alone. Not single-alone. Just...

Alone.

The thought still hurt. After Charles, Jessica had never felt the need to let another man into her life. Yes, some of that was fueled by the bitterness over how horribly her marriage had ended. But some of it came from an honest assessment of her life. She had her work, and she had her daughter. The two pillars of what made Jessica feel alive.

And now she would soon lose one.

Ava's boyfriend, Ricky, arrived late to the party. What a boy. Can't even show up to his own girlfriend's party on time. His only redeeming feature was that he gave Jessica a distraction from the anxiety she felt over Ava growing up.

He was good-looking, certainly. Abs. Hair. Blue eyes. The complete package if one happened to be an eighteen-year-old girl with questionable judgment. Meanwhile, every time the young man opened his mouth, Jessica found herself waiting for something intelligent to emerge. Usually, she was disappointed.

Still, something had seemed different between them lately. A distancing, it was subtle, but it was there.

She'd noticed the way Ava had avoided his attempts at affection near the end of the party. The awkward smile. The redirected kiss. The excuses.

"Let's hang out tonight," he offered, his romantic overture underwhelming as usual.

"I'm tired," Ava said. "You know, the party and everything."

"I could just come over and whatever," he tried again.

"Not tonight, Ricky," she said, irritation sneaking into her voice. "I need a break from people."

A mother's hope had sparked at that. Sure, it was tiny, fragile even, but it was hope nonetheless. Maybe Ava was finally seeing what Jessica had seen all along. Maybe she was starting to realize that Ricky wasn't good enough for her. That she was meant for bigger and brighter things than that dullard.

The evening after the party had been perfect. Just the two of them. Stir fry. Conversation. Comfortable silence. Mother and daughter.

Woman and woman.

Jessica had treasured every second.

Then Ava had disappeared into her room. Jessica had cleaned the kitchen. Loaded the dishwasher. Made tea. Attempted to read the self-help book Karen from work kept insisting would change her life.

It hadn't.

Mostly it made her sleepy.

Which explained why the sound of Ava's voice startled her awake.

"Bye Mom! Going for a run! Back in a bit!"

The front door closed. Jessica smiled faintly. A run. That sounded lovely. For a moment she wished she'd been invited. Running together had always been one of their things.

Then she caught herself.

Ava was an adult now. Adults didn't have to invite their mothers everywhere. Maybe this was Ava starting to spread her wings. Maybe this was a step toward Ava's independence.

The realization stung more than she expected.

A few minutes later, chamomile tea in hand, Jessica drifted toward the front window. Outside, darkness had settled over the neighbourhood. Streetlights glowed softly. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. Everything looked peaceful. Normal.

Then she noticed the car.

A few houses down. Engine running. Lights on. Not moving.

Jessica frowned. One minute passed. Then another. The vehicle remained exactly where it was. Curiosity replaced relaxation.

The news report she'd seen earlier floated back into her mind. The one about suspicious vehicles in the next neighbourhood over. There had been break-ins. Reports of people watching homes.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe.

Still...

She set her tea down. Slipped on her shoes. Grabbed her phone. And headed outside.

Cool evening air greeted her immediately. The walk down the sidewalk took less than a minute. With every step, the parked vehicle grew clearer. There was definitely someone inside.

A man.

Heavy-set.

Middle-aged.

Jessica slowed. Her frown deepened. What exactly was this idiot doing parked on a residential street after dark?

Then movement inside the car caught her eye. Someone else was in there with him. A woman.

Jessica stopped dead.

The position alone told her everything she needed to know.

"Oh, for God's sake," she muttered.

Seriously?

On her street?

Had people lost all sense of decency?

The man made a sound of obvious enjoyment. Jessica's expression twisted.

Gross.

Absolutely gross.

Determined to give whoever they were a piece of her mind, she marched the remaining distance toward the driver's side window. Then she got close enough to see the passenger.

And the world stopped.

Dark hair.

Two braids.

Pink and grey sports bra.

Jessica stared.

No.

No.

No no no no no.

That wasn't possible.

Her stomach dropped.

Ava.

Her daughter.

Her daughter!

For one frozen second, Jessica couldn't process what she was seeing. The man turned. Their eyes met through the window.

And suddenly the tiny hairs along Jessica's arms stood straight up.