The things those arms used to do to her.
Nope, not going there.
“If you’re sure, then. I should be done in about thirty minutes. Is your number still the same? I’ll text you when I’m out.”
Ava opened her bag and rummaged for her phone. “Actually, no. I got a new number a few years ago. Let me give you my new one.”
She recited her number and waited for a message to come through from him. She opened his text and read the single word he typed.
Unknown number: Owen.
A moment later, a second one came through.
Unknown number: Avery’s dad.
Ava laughed and caught Owen smirking back at her.
“Like I could forget who you are,” Ava said without thinking.
The jingle of the bell above the café door stopped Owen’s reply. Avery pushed through the door and bounced on his toes between them. “All done,” he announced.
Owen checked his watch. “I need to run, or I’ll be late. Be good for Ava, bud. See you in a bit.”
Ava watched him go, a bundle of nerves filling her stomach. Every encounter with Owen left her feeling exposed, with her revealing more pieces of herself without meaning to. She shook off the thought and looked down at Avery.
“Let’s roll.”
Chapter 12
The Donation
Ava pulled into the parking lot of the Baptist church, not surprised to see nothing had changed except for a fresh coat of paint in the last decade. Avery was a good companion, chattering away in the back seat of the Subaru about the books he was reading and what his friends were doing over the summer break. He even waited for the car to come to a full stop before unbuckling his seat belt.
Before leaving for her meeting, she’d loaded four bags of items to donate, mostly things she’d cleared from the closets in her room and the room her brothers used to share. She pointed out one bag she knew was lighter, filled with stuffed animals and clothing they’d long since grown out of.
“Grab that one for me, will you?”
“Yup!”
Avery grabbed the white trash bag, just barely wrapping his arms around it. She grabbed a heavier one and followed him inside the thriftstore portion of the church. She paused on the threshold to let her eyes adjust to the much dimmer room.
“Hi, Ms. Dora,” Avery called out to the older woman behind the counter. “We brought some stuff to donate.”
“Hello, dear. Come, set them down over here.” Dora walked over to a long, empty table against the wall.
Avery hefted his bag on the table with a grunt. Ava followed behind him, placing hers more gently. The older woman wore a t-shirt with the phraseNot today, Satanstamped across it and Birkenstock sandals.
“Who’s your friend, Avery?” Dora asked.
“This is Ava. She’s Aunt Summer’s best friend.”
Dora patted the top of her head for her glasses, then slid them onto the bridge of her nose to inspect the pair of them. Ava shifted uncomfortably, now remembering Dora from her childhood. Although her dad never attended church a day in his life, her mother insisted he send them to vacation bible school when they spent the summers with him.
“Ava? Ava Hanson? I didn’t recognize you, dear. It’s been so long. Welcome home,” Dora said with a bright smile.
The words hit her like a punch to the gut.Welcome home.
Was it home without her dad?
