The lost art of reverie
Aveline BOOK 1
PRologue

“Katie… Katie!” 

Katie pulled herself back from her daydreams, back to the hill beside Lake Aveline on a sunny summer afternoon. She was ten years old and her friend, Sammy, stood waving his hands in front of her face.

“Hmmm?” she said.

“Where did you go?” he asked, laughing. “You’re always dreaming.”

“I was imagining the perfect kitchen.”

“A kitchen?” Sammy screwed up his face. “Why?” 

“A huge kitchen with everything you could ever need for cooking.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips, imagining. “I’m going to be a chef when I grow up!” she announced.

Sammy continued to look puzzled, his hair sticking up all over his head and his brow furrowed as though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would daydream about something as mundane as a kitchen. Katie laughed at his look and jumped to her feet, brushing off her shorts. “Last one to the rope swing has to wait forever!” She took off running before he started, but he got there first, his skinny arms and legs scissoring across the rocky hill. She pulled up behind him at the rope swing.

“Forever, huh?” he asked, holding on to the rope, laughing and out of breath. He was twelve this year. Next year he would be thirteen. A teenager! It seemed impossible. She thought fast. How could she get the swing away from him? He was only two years older than her, but he was scrappy and strong.

But then he handed it to her, with a funny little bow. 

“For you, Chef Katie. You can take the first swing.” 

She smiled and took it. Sometimes Sammy hesitated before jumping, taking time to drum up his courage. But Katie never hesitated. She pulled the rope back away from the cliff edge, as far as it would go, then ran with it and jumped onto the big knot in the cord, red hair streaming behind her, only letting go when the swing stretched all the way over the glittering lake. Then she was flying, shrieking, into the blue water, the sun warm on her skin until she plunged into the cool water. She loved these summer days that stretched on forever. She loved the bright air, the smell of the forest, and the sound of Sammy’s yells as he didn’t bother waiting for the rope swing and jumped straight off the edge of the cliff, landing in the water beside her. 

*

Katie felt the blood drain from her face, and she clutched the phone tighter to her. “What?”

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Katie’s Nana’s voice was calm. “They say it’s operable and that I should be able to recover.”

“Cancer?” Katie repeated dully. She was twelve. “But what will you do? You’re all alone there.” Her heart hurt at the thought of her Nana alone in the big house in Aveline, trying to deal with cancer alone. “I know! I can move to Aveline and take care of you.” 

Her grandmother laughed. “That’s sweet of you, Katie girl. But I’m going to move in with you and your parents in L.A.”

“You are? But what about the house?”

“I’ll rent it out. It will just be for a short time while I recover. I’m thinking that this old lady needs to come and live with her family. How do you feel about that?”

Katie shook herself. She couldn’t say the thoughts that were going through her mind. What about the lake? What about summers? What about Sammy? Katie didn’t know how to have a summer that wasn’t at the lake in Aveline, where she swam every day and practically lived outdoors. 

But it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that Nana got better.

“I feel wonderful about that,” she said. “I want you to live with us.” She brightened. “I’ll cook for you! I’ll cook feel-better food.” 

“Of course you will, sweetheart,” Katie’s grandmother said, and Katie put the aching part of her heart, the part that waited all year for summers in Aveline, to one side. It was time to help Nana.

*

“Katie! Why are you leaving?”

Twenty-two-year-old Katie could hardly see for tears. She walked quickly, ignoring the question tossed casually by a classmate who didn’t actually care, her backpack slung over one shoulder, heart aching. What would she do now? Culinary school had been her dream for as long as she could remember. But Katie had failed spectacularly, and there was no resurrecting her vision. If only she had been paying attention. 

It was her own fault. All of it had been too good to be true. The acceptance letter and the move across the country to New York City. The shiny knives and countertops in the beautiful kitchen. Fresh vegetables and markets in the early mornings. Cooking all day long. 

She should have learned how to disappear. She should have learned how not to draw attention, to fade into the background and not stand out.

She felt a splinter of anger. Is it really your fault, though? she asked herself. He should have been more professional. He shouldn’t have lied.

The injustice pricked at her.

She was at the front door of the school, getting ready to walk away.

It didn’t matter whose fault it was. The result was the same: Katie was leaving, her dream crushed. She was the only one paying for this particular failure. She took one last look at the school as she stood on the sidewalk, remembering how large and luminous her hope had been when she arrived. The memory hurt, and she turned away, walking along the busy street, head down to hide her tears.

*

“Hurry up, Katie!” Ed’s voice was sharp, as though he was already annoyed. 

Katie finished applying her lipstick and called back to him. “Just a minute!”

“We’re going to be late!” he called back. 

She sat and quickly strapped her high heels on, adjusting her skirt as she stood, then grabbed her briefcase and joined Ed at the door to their little Los Angeles bungalow. It was hers, actually, but Ed had moved in a year ago when she turned twenty-six. She guessed that made it theirs. 

Ed was looking at his watch. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Wait a minute,” she said. She kissed him and smiled into his handsome face. “Good morning,” she said.

He sighed. “You know I don’t like those shoes. They make you taller than me.” 

Her face fell. 

“That’s the problem with you, Katie,” he said, as they climbed into the car. “You don’t pay attention. You make us late when you space out.”

Resentment bubbled inside Katie as she listened to his tirade. Ed got like this when he was stressed. Sometimes she wondered why she stayed with him, but Katie was loyal, and Ed wasn’t like this all the time. Katie had worked hard to be where she was, resurrecting herself from the crash of her first career choice, finding a new space in the world. And he was right—though Katie worked hard, she still daydreamed too much. But if Ed had any idea how much Katie forced herself to stay in the present, to do her job cheerfully and with precision, maybe he would give her some credit. Compared to the child she had been, Katie was hardly a dreamer anymore.

They arrived on time, but Ed didn’t apologize. Instead, he linked arms with her and swept into the offices like a king, smiling at everyone he saw. Katie walked beside him, wondering about the show he was putting on. 

She didn’t dwell on it, though, her mind already flitting ahead to all the work she had laid out for her today: A meeting with her boss—Philip—an intake of a new employee, and other usual meetings of the company’s human resources representative.

Working in human resources had not been part of Katie’s vision for her life. Turned out she was good at it, though, and everyone had to do something.

Sometimes Katie remembered a long-buried part of herself. The brave girl with wild red hair who jumped into lakes in the sunshine and spent the afternoons lost in reverie. Those days were long past. After Nana had finished treatment for her cancer and gone into remission, she had never moved back to Aveline. Katie’s parents visited the lake occasionally, but these days Katie was always too busy, and Ed liked to vacation in big cities or on the beach. He had no time for a small lakeside town. 

“Katie!”

Katie turned toward her boss, pulling her arm out of Ed’s grip. 

“Good morning, Philip,” she said.

“The meeting’s moved up,” he told her, looking handsome in his suit, as he always did. “Come join us as soon as you can.” 

Katie nodded an affirmative, gathering her things from her desk and heading toward the boardroom. As she passed Ed, though, she saw the strangest expression on his face. Jealousy, maybe? But Katie had always been a star at their company, practically family at Philip’s house, invited to exclusive parties usually reserved for the officers. Ed had never seemed jealous about it before. He grabbed her arm for a quick kiss, and his hand wasn’t gentle. Then he was gone. She stood there for a minute, waiting until her heart was ready, then walked to join the meeting.

*

“The defendant has called you a traitor, Ms. Grace. What’s your response?”

Katie held a hand in front of her face, trying to shield herself from the cameras in front of the courthouse. Reporters called out questions, and she flinched away from them, hating the attention, hating the fact that things had come to this. 

“People are saying you can’t be trusted, that you listened to the wrong person. Do you have any comments?” 

No comment. No comment. No comment. 

She stumbled as she tried to push by, and when her shoe fell off, she just left it there in her hurry to get to her car. Her grandmother’s funeral had barely been over when the situation at work blew up. In the best of times, all of it would be too much, but overwhelmed by grief and aware that one person who loved her without condition had left the world, it was unbearable. Katie couldn’t hold it together to talk to reporters. All she could do was show up and try to tell the truth.

“You weren’t paying attention,” Ed told her at the breakfast table the next day, holding out the newspaper. It featured a courtroom illustration of Katie gazing off into the air as though she was trying to think of what to say next. Ed was right—she didn’t look very believable.

“Why am I the one they are focusing on?” Katie asked. “I’m just H.R. Just another witness.” Her mild attempt to stick up for herself sounded pitiful, even to her.

“I tried to warn you about what would happen to you if you pursued this, but you didn’t listen to me. I’m sorry. Obviously, I want to help you, but I don’t think I can. And I’m not going down with you.” 

When Ed was gone, Katie stared at the spaces his books had left on the shelves. Eight years, she thought. Finished like that. Because she didn’t pay attention. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the table. Red hair flashing in the sun. Wind on her skin. A plucky kid with dreams. Katie didn’t recognize herself anymore.

*

“Katie, honestly. It’s just lunch. Everyone eats lunch. There’s no reason for a panic attack.”

Katie sat on the curb, shaking, desperately trying to breathe. How had she forgotten how lungs worked? If she could breathe, she could tell her mother that scolding someone for a panic attack when they were in the middle of a panic attack wasn’t helpful. In the month since the court case and Ed leaving, simple things had grown more and more difficult, until Katie barely left the house. At her mother’s insistence, she had come out for lunch today. It had not been a success.

How could her mother have known a group of her old colleagues would be eating lunch at the restaurant she’d chosen, Ed at the center of the group, laughing and sure of himself? Had they seen her? Katie was terrified that they might have seen her.

She couldn’t get the air in. Panic washed over her in waves. Her face was wet with tears. She was going to throw up.

“Katie, answer me. Answer me.” 

There was nothing left. Katie had disappeared. She was a shell of a person now.

When her mother had left her at home with some toast and juice, Katie curled on her side in bed, thankful to be alone and in a darkened room. She idly flipped through the mail her mother had brought in. Her mother had removed the hate mail, which was just one more side effect from her testimony in court. 

One letter looked interesting. It had the return address of a law firm called Jackson & Jackson in Aveline. Katie’s mother had told her that something from her grandmother’s estate should be arriving soon. 

Katie felt a familiar stab of grief. She didn’t want any silver cutlery or jewelry. She wanted Nana back. The sadness for Nana felt clean, so Katie let it rush over her. It was different than the choking tentacles of shame that had imprisoned her since the trial. Since the accusations of “attention seeker,” “traitor,” and “money grabber,” had settled around her neck.

She felt the sadness of missing Nana, and also a tiny fizz of curiosity. Maybe she would get Nana’s extensive collection of hats. She was pretty sure her parents were getting the bulk of Nana’s estate.

Katie unfolded the crisp, thick paper and scanned it. After a moment she clutched it, reading more closely. The letter did not inform Katie that she had inherited the hats, or even a few thousand dollars, which would have helped pay of the bills that had been accumulating while she spent days in bed. The letter told her that she had inherited Nana’s large Victorian house in Aveline, as well as the profits of the last seventeen years of renting the house out to students. Katie dropped the paper.

Nana’s house. She could leave. The single thought crashed over her, draining the blood from her face.

Katie could leave this city and all its memories. She could go back to Aveline, to the lake of her childhood, the trees outlined in light. If she went to Aveline, Katie would never have to see an ex-colleague again, or fear that she would see one. 

Suddenly Katie wanted Nana so much she ached. Nana had a fierce faith in God, and she had always made everything seem possible, as though any magical thing could happen because God was there and big and able to do anything. Katie had believed her. She found that she couldn’t muster up the belief by herself. Nana had made all the ordinary things in life seem like a game, like everything was fun and playful. She had always teased Katie about her seriousness about career and job. Katie didn’t know how to find that lightness when Nana wasn’t there to offer it. Maybe being in Nana’s house would be something like being with her. 

Katie wanted to go back to feeling like life was expansive and full of possibility. She wanted Nana, but maybe the house was the next best thing.