“She came to see me a few days ago.”
“Your mother?”
Ava turned and started walking again. “Yes. She found the diner. Big Harry sent her packing. Told her he didn’t hire anybody named Ava.”
I quickened my step beside her. “You think she believed him?”
“I think she got freaked out by one of our customers and fled.” She smiled, the first genuine one I’d seen on this new Ava.
“Grandma Flowers wants to see you too,” I said.
“The old woman with the pots?”
“That’s her.”
“I bought a couple of plants when I got my apartment,” she said. “I killed them in a week. I’ve forgotten everything.”
“She’ll teach you again.”
Ava shook her head. “The past is the past. Better left on old notes.”
“But your paper flowers. You don’t keep them?”
She shrugged. “I’ve learned what I need to know. And sure, I’ll keep them around in case there’s a next time. But I’m not interested in reliving any part of those days.” She hesitated. “Notanypart.”
She couldn’t mean that. “I can’t see you again?”
We stopped walking, and she stared into the sky. The mist grew heavier. We were wet and cold, but she stood there, strong and unrelenting.
“I don’t want to get bogged down by what I used to be. Mother forced me to start fresh. I’m ready to own it.”
She took off toward a cluster of apartment buildings.
Crap. She was going to ditch me.
“Ava?”
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“If you change your mind, go see Grandma Flowers. She’s still in the duplex on Brodie. Do you have the address anywhere?”
“Yeah. I found it.”
“Go there. She knows how to find me.”
She adjusted the strap to her bag. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Then she was inside the locked gate to her complex and out of my reach.
CHAPTER 25
Ava
Big Harry and the people at his diner became my family. We worked till midnight, hung out for hours after closing, and slept late. This was all fine by me. Eating, sleeping, and breathing around people I could trust became my most critical survival skill.
Thanksgiving passed. Then Christmas. I spent the holidays with random people from work, vaping and making fun of people who got sentimental about jolly old dudes in red suits and peace on earth, good will toward blah, blah, blah.
I might have looked like a tough girl on the outside with my black clothes and bad attitude, but inside I grew very careful. All the underage servers would sneak alcohol from the bar, but I stuck to Sprite with a slice of lime in it and maybe a splash of colored syrup for show.
