by Mark Goodwin
Megan leaned over. “Wait. Do you support Antifa?”
“Whether or not I support their tactics, I oppose the same line items they do; racism, fascism, intolerance, the rich getting richer by oppressing the poor. Do you think those sound like good old-fashioned American values?” Raquel’s nose was beginning to snarl like an agitated dog.
Ava put her hand up. “Please, Raquel! Not here. Not today. It’s my mother’s funeral. Can’t you give it a rest just this once?”
“Fine!” Raquel glared at Megan and leaned back.
Pastor Neil, an associate pastor from Faith Chapel, the megachurch where Ava and Charity attended, walked up to the head of the casket. “Shall we pray?”
Ava lowered her head but peeked with one eye as she saw Charity scurrying toward the gravesite. Charity was pretty with long blond hair. She always complained about the extra fifteen pounds she could never seem to shake, but James, her tall and very-attractive fiancé from church, didn’t seem to mind. She dressed modestly and had a bubbly personality. Her joy was infectious, and it had served to lift Ava’s spirits many times over the course of her mother’s illness.
When the prayer was finished, Charity was standing in front of the chair three seats down, next to little Danielle. She caught Ava’s gaze and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” then smiled apologetically.
Ava returned the smile and whispered, “No problem.”
Pastor Neil delivered the eulogy with a somber tone, speaking of all the wonderful things Emily Wilson had done, and what she meant to those who knew her.
Ava’s mind drifted as she remembered her mother fondly. She looked behind her to see all the people who’d come to pay their respects. Suddenly, her melancholy moment was brutally interrupted by the man she saw in the back row. Lee! What is he doing here? Why can’t people just let me mourn for one day without causing me more headaches?
Her jaw tightened and her heart beat with anger as she considered the smugness of her adoptive father’s presence at her mother’s funeral. Ava fumed for the remainder of the eulogy, unable to focus on the memories of her mother.
Once the service was over and the people were dismissed by Pastor Neil, Ava made a beeline for Lee. “Why are you here? Obviously, you have better things to do. Or maybe you don’t. I guess your last little hooker is getting too old. You’re probably about ready to trade her in for a newer model. Well, don’t be sniffing around my friends to find your next trick!”
Lee wore a tailored black suit, his sandy blond hair resembled the fashion of a surfer, and his cologne was applied almost as liberally as Raquel’s makeup. He held up his hands. “Ava, please! I’m your dad. I wanted to be here for you. I’m sorry if you’re upset.”
Even before he’d walked out, she’d hated his ability to stay calm under pressure. She was sure it served him well in the courtroom. Lee made a good lawyer, but a terrible father. She snapped back, “You’re not my dad. And you don’t belong here. You were nothing but a mistake to Mom, and you’re even less than that to me.”
“I love you with all of my heart, Ava. I hope that someday you’ll be able to forgive me and that you’ll let me be there for you.”
“You don’t love me. If you’d have loved me, you’d have honored your commitment to Mom. You’d have been faithful to your promise to God. Love isn’t a warm fuzzy feeling inside—it’s a verb. It’s something you choose to do. And in marriage and parenthood, it means when you say til death do us part, you keep your oath.
“You walked out on us when I was fourteen; probably when I needed you most. I’ll be thirty in November, so do the math. That’s a good long while.”
He smiled his typical lawyer smile. “Ava, what happened between your mother and me has nothing to do with you. And it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with God.”
“Really? Do you remember saying I do on the altar of God? I wasn’t there, but I remember seeing the video when I was a kid. You made your covenant before God. You made that vow to Mom, and to all the people in attendance who were there as witnesses. And, when you decided to adopt a kid with Mom, you made that pledge to me! You’re an attorney, you understand the concept of an implied contract.”
“In my defense, I provided for you and your mother. And me not being part of your life was your choice. I’ve always tried to seek a relationship with you. It’s why I’m here now.”
Ava gasped, tears rolling down her face. “No! It was your choice! You made it the second you decided that your sexual desires were more important than your word before God, more important than Mom, and more important than me.”
Lee hung his head low as if the judge’s gavel had struck the podium in a final verdict, and he’d lost his case. “You know where I am if you ever change your mind.” Lee stuck his hands in the pants pockets of his expensive suit and walked away.
Charity hugged her from the side. “That man may have adopted you, but God is your Father. Don’t ever forget that.”
Ava sobbed on Charity’s shoulder. “I know. But it’s pretty tough to find a man that acts anything like Him.”
“They’re out there. And God has one for you.” Charity dried Ava’s eyes with a tissue. “I promise.”
“You can’t make that promise, Charity. You don’t know. My mom thought Lee was the one. I’m sure my biological mom thought the guy who knocked her up with me was a great guy. But she died giving birth to me, and he never even stepped forward to let me know his name.
“Then there was Robert. We met at church, got engaged, seemed perfect. But when mom got sick, it was too much for him to handle, and he hit the road too.
“Every man that’s ever darkened the doorstep of my life has been a disappointment. And my biological dad, never taking the time to say hello. I don’t even know who I am. You don’t know what that’s like.”
Ava turned to the casket being lowered into the ground. “Mom—she made it all okay. But now she’s gone, and it’s just me.”
“It’s not just you.” Charity pulled her close again. “I’m here. And Jesus is always with you.”
“Thanks, but you know what I mean. You’ve got James. As for me and Jesus, sometimes I don’t feel like He’s around; like He’s got better things to do.”
Charity pulled back Ava’s hair. “You’re the most important thing in the world to Jesus. And yes, James is going to be my husband, but you’re my sister. You always will be.
“You’re right, you’ve been stuck with some real losers, but don’t let them ruin it for you. Not all men are bad. Think about Pastor Rob—everything he’s done for Austin through Faith Chapel. And what about Dr. Hodge? I almost forgot to tell you, he said you can take as much time off as you need to grieve. He said the office will pay you for up to two weeks. Not many employers would do that.”
“Tell him I appreciate the offer, but I’m planning to go back to work on Thursday.”
Charity put her hand on Ava’s shoulder. “You should take some time to mourn. Don’t rush it.”
“I’ve been mourning for the past two months; ever since I knew this was the last downturn for Mom. If I sit around with nothing to do, I’ll get depressed. I need to stay busy.”
“Whatever you need, I’m sure Dr. Hodge will be fine with it. What do you say we all go get something to eat? My treat.”
Ava looked at Megan, Raquel, and little Danielle who were all awaiting her answer to Charity’s invitation. “Thanks, but I need a little time alone. It’s been a really tough day. My biological mom’s grave is on the other side of the cemetery. Mom took me there a few times, but it always felt weird; like I was cheating on her as a daughter or something. Probably some guilt complex I’ve picked up from Lee and all the other dirt-bag men in my life. Anyways, I’m going to stop by there for a while, then head on home. I’ve got two boxes of donuts and a box of Captain Crunch waiting on me.”
“You’re eating donuts and Captain Crunch? That’s more sugar than I’ve seen you eat ever,” Raquel stated.
“She d
eserves a sugar day. Come on, let’s leave her be.” Charity ushered Raquel away.
“Come by this evening. Danielle and I would love to have you. Maybe we can get a pizza or some ice cream,” Megan said.
“Or both!” Danielle added.
Ava sniffed and glanced down at Danielle, tussling her blond hair. “Maybe we’ll do that.”
Ava slogged across the wet ground to the pavement. Once there, she followed the blacktop path to where her birth mother was buried. When she arrived, she found a bouquet of dried and faded flowers laying near the base of the headstone. Ava guessed they were about a week old. She picked them up. “Looks like Gerbera Daisies.”
Ava loved Gerbera Daisies, especially yellow. They were her favorite flowers. “I wonder who could have brought these.” She’d never known of any extended family belonging to her birth mother. She’d never considered looking. Ava was the only family her adoptive mom had so she’d been content to keep it mutually exclusive.
Ava pulled a few of the dried petals from the head of one of the dried flowers. She was in no hurry to get home to an empty house, especially after she’d just been robbed. So, she meandered through the cemetery for a couple hours, remembering her adoptive mother and wondering what her biological mom was like.
CHAPTER 3
The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
Psalm 34:18
On Tuesday morning, Ava’s stomach hurt from all the sugar the evening before. Nevertheless, she poured a big bowl of Captain Crunch to eat while she sipped her coffee and flipped through her Bible. She’d always gone to church with her mom, but after her mother had gotten sick, they’d both began reading their Bibles regularly at home. Ava usually read a couple chapters in the morning with her coffee. But on this day, she had only enough resolve to read the thirty-fourth Psalm. She took comfort in the words, hoping that they were true.
Once she finished her cereal, she left the bowl in the sink and powered up her laptop. She quickly did a search for gun stores in Austin. She looked through several of the sites at the available inventory, but she had no idea what she was looking for. “Maybe Megan is right. Maybe I should get a dog instead.” Of course, she knew even less about what kind of dog she wanted.
Ava navigated to Craigslist and began looking at the ads for dogs. “Good security dog. Free to good home.”
Feeling very alone, she thought about how nice it would be to have another living creature in the apartment. She dialed the number associated with the ad.
“Hi, I’m calling about the dog.”
“Which one?” asked the voice of a much older man.
“The security dog. Why, how many dogs do you have?”
“Just the one. Yep, he’s a good watchdog. Barks when he should, doesn’t when he shouldn’t. He’s also good with children. Do you have children?”
“No.” Ava pondered the curious sales pitch.
“Well, he’s good with adults, too.”
“Why are you getting rid of him?”
“Moving to Montana.”
“Can’t you take him with you?”
“Nope. Been living on my own, but this diabetes has me in a chair now. So my boy is moving me to an assisted living facility up near him and his family. I guess it’s for the best. I’ve got four grandkids up there. I’ll get to see them more, but I can’t take Buckley. The home won’t allow it.”
“The dog can’t live with your grandchildren?”
“Nope. They’re all cat people. Buckley, he don’t mind cats—nor cat people, neither. But the cats and the cat people, well—they don’t reciprocate. Can you come by today? I’d have to know that you’re capable of caring for him. What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a dental hygienist.”
“What’s that?”
“I clean people’s teeth.”
“Oh, a dentist?”
“No, I work for a dentist.”
“Oh. But I reckon it’s a good job. Pays well?”
“I do okay.” Ava was feeling a bit prodded and began silently clicking some of the other ads on her computer while she spoke to the man. One ad said, Good family dog, free to good home. Another stated Dog needs good home, great with kids. Upon closer inspection, she recognized they had the same phone number as the one she’d just dialed.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Stuart Smith. What’s yours?”
“Ava.” She figured the old man was just trying to generate enough interest in the pet to be able to be selective about who he’d give the animal to.
“Pleasure to be speaking with you, Ava. What time can you be by?”
“I have to get dressed. What part of town are you in?”
“South Congress.”
“Oh, that’s close. Is an hour okay?”
“That’d be fine.”
“Great. Text me the address.”
“I don’t got a . . . texter.”
“Oh. Let me get something to write with.” She paused to look for a pen and paper. “Okay, go ahead.”
“2745 Sherwood.”
“Got it. See you soon.” Ava clicked off the phone.
She washed her face and put on a ball cap rather than fuss with her hair. She grabbed her mother’s diamond engagement ring from her dresser and placed it in her pocket. She’d tried to push her mom to sell it when she was alive, but her mother never did. Ava wasn’t sure why her mom had held on to the thing, but she certainly had no qualms about converting it into cash. She didn’t need the money. She made a decent salary, was a saver with money in the bank, and would have no problem carrying the rent for the two-bedroom apartment by herself. Yet selling the object which represented a façade to her adoptive father’s lack of commitment felt like the right thing to do.
Ava was ready in ten minutes, and South Congress was just up the street from the Riverview Apartments. “Guess I can stop by the pawn shop.” She grabbed her keys and headed out the door.
Ava drove a Jeep. When she’d bought it, she’d planned to take it off road and go camping with her ex-fiancé, Robert. But when her mom got sick and Robert split, the Jeep simply became a vehicle that used more fuel than necessary.
Ten minutes later, she was at the pawn shop.
“I can give you three thousand.” The man inspected the ring with his loupe.
“It’s worth fifteen.”
“Maybe at a jewelry store in the mall, but not here.”
“It would be twenty thousand at the mall.”
“People who buy diamonds at the mall don’t go to pawn shops. Besides, you’d need a diamond grading report for me to give you any more than three. It’s a nice stone, but without the sheepskin from a lab, that’s all it is.”
“How do I get one of those?”
“You can ship it to GIA. I think they charge about $200.”
“Can’t you do that?”
“Yeah, but I can only guess how it will come back. Looks like an H or a G. But if it were to come back as an I for color, that knocks off several thousand bucks. I’m not a gambler.”
Ava huffed. She just wanted to be rid of the thing. “Give me four and it’s yours.”
The man looked at it a little longer and slowly shook his head. “Thirty-five hundred. That’s my limit.”
“Thirty-eight and you’ve got a deal.”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Thirty-seven-fifty. You know you’ll sell it for ten, even if it comes back lower than you think.”
“Meet me at the desk in the back, and I’ll write you up.”
Ava knew she was giving it away, but she was rid of it, and she’d haggled the man up from his initial offer. She felt better than she had since her mom died.
She looked at the guns while the man filled out the paperwork.
The man noticed and said, “He’s out a fancy ring. That’s gotta hurt him pretty bad. But, no matter what he did, it ain’t worth all that. Time heals all wounds.”
The man nodded. “In that case, can I show you a gun once we settle up?”
“Maybe some other time. I’m not sure what I should get.”
“Do you have a concealed carry permit?”
“No.”
“That’s the first thing you should get. A gun isn’t any good if you don’t have it when you need it.”
Ava signed the papers which the man handed to her. “That makes sense.”
“Gun store down on Ben White Boulevard gives the classes. But come back here when you’re ready to buy. I’ll cut you a better deal.” The man counted out the money in hundred-dollar bills.
“Thanks for the tip.” Ava folded the money over and stuck it in her pocket. She waved and continued her mission to see the dog.
When she arrived at the man’s address, she knocked. A dog barked inside two times.
“Come on in,” a man’s voice said.
Cautiously, she opened the door and looked inside before entering. “Hi, I’m Ava. We spoke on the phone.”
Woof! A friendly-looking, medium-sized, mixed-breed dog greeted her with his tail wagging. Holding the door open, she bent down to give the animal a quick pat on the head, still assessing the inside of the home before walking in. Cardboard moving boxes lined the walls.
“Stuart Smith, good to meet ya.” An elderly man who looked to be in his eighties sat in a wheelchair. “He won’t bite. Come on in.”
“Yeah, I can kinda tell he won’t bite. The ad said security dog. I was hoping for something more—intimidating.” She stepped just over the threshold, letting the door close behind her.
Stuart rolled closer to the door. “If he had any inkling that you was trying to hurt me, he’d be on you like stink on fish guts.”
