Chapter 2

 

Ava

 

I FINISHED MY Chipotle rice bowl, showered, and put on a pair of black leggings and a hot pink tank top, intending to go for a run. Strangely enough, I needed a shower to help invigorate me before any workout. Otherwise, I never found the energy, only excuses not to instead.

I pulled my light brown hair back into a ponytail and stared into the mirror. It’s been said that I closely resembled Jessica Alba, but personally I couldn’t see it. Sure, we had similar bone structure, brown eyes, and lips, but below the neck, I looked more like a Kardashian. Especially in the hip department. Another reason I had to stay on top of my exercise regime. Of course, I liked to joke that an ass like mine was perfect for a stunt woman to help cushion the falls. But, it was still a lot of work to keep it from bouncing back on it’s own. 

Yawning, I put some moisturizer on my face and walked into the living room to call Dwayne. He answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Dwayne. It’s me. Ava. I heard the news.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he replied in that gravelly voice of his. I could hear him light up a cigarette and then take a long drag. “Such a waste.”

I wanted to say that my loss happened a long time ago, but he already knew that. “Yeah.”

Dwayne let out a ragged sigh. “You know, it might not mean a lot to you now, but your mother loved you.”

“Just not enough to get help,” I said wryly.

“She tried a few times to clean herself up and get you back. She just wasn’t strong enough to resist her drug habit. What she needed was to enter a treatment center, but refused to. She always thought they were too expensive.”

I laughed harshly. “And heroin wasn’t?”

“I know. You’re preaching to the choir, darlin’. I’m with you. One of the reasons why we split up all those years ago, was because of drugs. Of course, she didn’t hit the hard stuff until after you were born.”

“Great. I guess I was the catalyst for that, huh?”

“Not you. Your father taking off on her is what did it. He was such a jackass. Sorry, Ava”

“No need to apologize. I never met the guy.” All I knew about my old man was that she’d met him while working at a casino. My mother had been a dealer, back before her addictions, and he’d been a customer. After winning a few big hands, he asked her out. Knowing it was against the casino’s rules, she declined, but then ran into him a week later at a local mall. That time he’d been able to talk her into dinner and then romanced her until she fell in love with him and eventually became pregnant. Unfortunately, she learned later that he’d been only using her to try and win big at the casino. After finding out that she was carrying his child, he admitted that he was already married with a family of his own and asked her to get an abortion. She refused and he walked out of her life. It had been a devastating blow.

“I met him,” he admitted. “I worked on his car once when it broke down.”

“Really? Nobody ever mentioned that,” I replied.

I remembered something about Dwayne’s family owning an auto body shop, and how he’d wanted Andrew to take over the business one day.

“It wasn’t anything we wanted to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah.” If memory served me correctly, Dwayne and Sheila had always been pretty civil to each other, for the most part.

“Anyway, the funeral is next Friday. I’ll get you the address here in a second. It’s in the kitchen. Hold on.” 

I grabbed a notepad and a pen. “Who’s paying for it? Andrew?”

“Not him, I’ll tell you that. I was able to locate an old friend of Andrew’s and he gave me his phone number. I’ve left him several messages, but he hasn’t returned my calls.”

“You told him about Sheila?”

“Of course. I know he’s  pissed off at both of us, but the least he could do is call me back.”

“If he doesn’t, hopefully he’ll at least show up at the funeral,” I answered.

The Andrew I remembered had been stubborn, but he’d also had a heart. I couldn’t imagine that after finding out about his mother dying he wouldn’t at least attend the funeral, no matter how angry he’d been.

“Let’s hope he does attend,” he replied in a tired voice. “I’d like to smooth things over with him, too. Life’s too short to hold grudges. He’s an adult. If he wants to hang out with one-percenters, that’s his prerogative. I’ll accept it, I guess. I just want my son back.”

“What’s a one-percenter?”

“It refers to illegal motorcycle clubs. Ninety-nine percent of clubs are law-abiding citizens. The one-percenters take the law into their own hands.”

“Oh.”

We talked a little longer and then he gave me the information about the funeral.

“You never did mention who’s paying for it,” I said, thinking that if needed, I could chip in.

“I am.”

His answer surprised me.

“You? Why?” I asked.

“As pissed off as I was at the woman, I always had a soft spot for her. Hell, she was the mother of my child.” He let out a weary sigh. “Whom we both obviously disappointed. Anyway, someone’s got to bury her. She may not have lived with a lot of dignity, but I’m going to make sure she gets buried with some.”

My heart warmed at the gesture, and his words made my eyes misty. “That’s very nice of you.” I replied quietly.

He chuckled. “Do me a favor though, don’t go tellin’ folks I’m footin’ the bill. Being ‘nice’ isn’t a good trait in my line of work.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“I’m a debt collector,” he replied.

I suddenly remembered the last conversation my mother had with Andrew before he stopped coming over. They’d been talking about how Dwayne worked for the mob.

“Now you’re following in your father’s footsteps. What in the world are you thinking by hanging out with a gang of criminals?”

“They’re not a gang and they’re not criminals!” he’d replied angrily. “It’s a club and those guys are my friends. They’ve got their shit together and are going to help me get mine.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t say a word,” I replied. It wasn’t any of my business and I was relieved that he’d volunteered to pay for her funeral anyway. “If you want any money—”

“Keep it, Ava. I appreciate the offer, but it’s all paid for.”

“Well, thank you.”

“No problem. Hey, would you like Andrew’s phone number?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, grabbing the pen again.

“Maybe he’ll talk to you,” he mumbled after giving it to me.

“I’d like to think that he would, but it’s been so long.”

“He always loved you. If anyone can get him to talk, it will be you.”

I smiled.

Dwayne sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday. Unless, you want to get together beforehand and have dinner or something.”

“I’m in Vegas right now in the middle of a shoot. I probably won’t be back until the day of the funeral.”

“That’s right. Millie said you were a stuntwoman. That must be pretty exciting work.”

“It can be.”

“You ever get hurt?”

“Not yet,” I muttered, knocking on the wooden sofa table lightly for luck. My superstitious nature hated when people asked that question. It was a sure way to jinx someone.

“That’s good. Oh, my pizza is done. I gotta go. See you soon?”

“Yeah.”

We hung up and I called the number he gave me. Unfortunately, Andrew didn’t answer and he used an impersonal, automated voicemail greeting, so I couldn’t even be certain if we had the right number.

“Hi, Andrew. It’s Ava. Your sister,” I said, laughing nervously. “Surprise, huh? It’s been such a long time. Too long. Anyway, I would really like to talk to you, so please call me back.”

I left him my phone number and then hung up, hoping he’d call me back. There was a lot I wanted to say, like how much he’d meant to me, especially during the darkest times of my life. Even just the memory of his smile had given me comfort when I’d needed it the most. He was all I had left of my childhood; the best part of it. I honestly didn’t care if he went to the funeral. I just wanted to see him again and hoped he felt the same.