Chapter 12 The Donation
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 thrift store 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 phrase Not today, Satan stamped 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?
The innocent words sent her mind into a tailspin. Instead of examining it further, she created a new little box to shove those feelings into. A new one, labeled home, and tucked it away to be dealt with another time.
“Hi, Ms. Dora. It’s been a while,” Ava said.
“Can I look around?” Avery asked.
He was looking at her, his face so open and earnest. That pinch in her chest came back.
“Go for it,” she said.
Avery beamed at her and wandered away to the shelves on the other side of the room, making a beeline for the books.
“I like your shirt,” Ava said, gesturing to what Dora wore.
Dora pinched the shirt away from her frame and looked down at it. Her smile grew bigger when she met Ava’s eyes again. “Thank you. Would you believe someone donated this thing? Pulled it from the hanger when I saw it. Just don’t repeat that to the pastor.” She winked at Ava in solidarity.
“Don’t repeat what?” Ava responded reflexively. The annoying joke her dad always said left her mouth before she realized it. A pang lanced her heart at the silly reminder of him. She’d never hear him say the quip again.
“You’re a good woman, Ava.” Dora opened one bag and started pulling out the items to inventory.
“I didn’t realize you and Owen had gotten back together.
That kid of his is just the spitting image of him running around Cedar Falls.
I keep telling him to bring Avery to vacation bible school.
Maybe you can talk some sense into him and get him to come this summer,” Dora said.
“Oh, I’m not. We’re not—” Ava stopped herself and tried again. “Owen and I are not together, Ms. Dora. I’m just doing him a favor. Watching Avery for a bit is all.”
Dora stopped what she was doing, her eyes widening at her faux pas. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wishful thinking on this old woman’s part. Don’t mind me,” Dora said, patting Ava’s arm. “And I’m sorry about your dad. The whole church has been praying for your family.”
“Thanks.” To cover her awkwardness, her head swiveled to look for Avery. He was still near the books, flipping through the pages of a paperback.
Dora finished going through the items in the first bag, stacking the clothes in one pile and the collection of stuffed animals in another.
Her dad held on to all their beanie babies over the years, convinced one day they’d be valuable.
They had the protective cover on the tags and everything.
After a quick search showed their value hovered around five dollars and not exactly the windfall her dad was expecting one day, Ava chucked them into the donation pile.
Dora moved to the second bag. “Is this everything?”
Ava shook her head. “There’s two more bags in the car outside. I’ll go grab them,” Ava said.
“Nonsense.” Dora brushed Ava off and shouted over her shoulder toward the back.
“Nathan, we need your strapping young muscles out here.”
Moments later, heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway behind the purchase counter. A tall teenage boy stepped into the room; his cutoff t-shirt printed with the Cedar Falls High School football team across it. “Need help?”
“Be a dear and grab the rest of the bags out of her car,” Dora told him.
“It’s the Subaru,” Ava added.
“I’m on it,” Nathan said.
He stomped outside, the breeze from the open door making the various fliers on the bulletin board near the front flutter. Curiosity got the better of her. “Mind if I have a look around, too?”
“Of course not. Browse away. Will you need a receipt for your donation? I’ll have Nathan put that together when he comes back.”
Ava almost said no before the years of her older brother’s tax advice kicked in. Lucas would be annoyed if she didn’t keep a record of the donated items.
“Yes, please. That would be great,” Ava said.
Dora nodded and continued taking stock of the items.
Ava walked over to Avery to check on him. “Find anything good?”
Avery peered up at her, a worn paperback book tucked under his arm and another in his hand. “I found the next book in my series. And it’s in paperback, so it matches the first two books I have. I can bring it to camp with me next week,” he said.
“Sounds like a good deal.”
Ava left him to his own devices and walked to the bulletin board to read the advertisements.
A flier for Summer’s sunrise yoga class she taught three days a week caught her attention.
She snapped a photo to send to Summer, unable to help herself.
There was also a town hall meeting notice for the end of June and a fundraising gala for the Cedar Falls Historical Society the first week of August. Nestled in-between was information for the annual fourth of July festivities in downtown and an open mic at the café.
She took another picture of the open mic flier, already thinking of ways to tease Owen about it.
Friends teased each other, right? At least it seemed they were in friend territory recently. Friends who kind of wanted to kiss each other.
She continued along the shelves, picking up odds and ends before placing them back down. She checked on Avery again, who now had three books tucked under his arm and had moved on to the sparse collection of video games.
“We’re done, Ava,” Dora called across the room.
Ava returned to the sorting table. Dora had a handwritten receipt waiting for her; all the items she’d brought were placed in careful piles.
Winter coats and too small pajamas, beanie babies, VHS movies, knick-knacks her dad had hoarded in various closets.
She waited for a pang of sadness to hit her, but all she felt was relief.
I’m making progress.
Ava took the receipt from Dora’s outstretched hand.
“Please let us know if the church can do anything for your family to support you. We all miss your dad,” Dora said.
Nathan paused his retreat into the hallway behind the counter. “Your dad was Mr. Hanson? He was a cool guy. Subbed at the school sometimes for the science teachers. Everyone liked him,” Nathan said.
Surprise filled Ava. She hadn’t expected the teen to know her dad or to learn her dad subbed at the school on top of his full-time position as a lecturer at the University of Maine. She filed that away in her compartment of things to discover more about.
“Thank you both. I appreciate it.” Ava looked at Nathan. “I didn’t know he subbed at the school; I would’ve thought he’d be too busy.”
Nathan shrugged. “Don’t know. But we always did cool experiments when he taught instead of watching movies, unlike most subs.”
Ava turned that over in her mind. The knowledge made her chest clench, her earlier relief replaced with guilt. A guilt that settled heavily around her shoulders. The vibration of her phone kept her from lingering on her feelings for too long.
Owen (Avery’s dad): Done at City Hall. Meet you both at the Early Bird?
She nodded at Dora and Nathan again and turned to look for Avery. “Ready to go, Avery? Your dad’s done,” she said.
“Yup.” Avery rushed over to her. Three books and a video game stacked in his hands. “Can I get these?”
Ava shrugged. She wasn’t his parent, but Avery was her responsibility until she returned him to Owen’s care. What would any best friend of a kid’s aunt do?
“Sure. Let’s pay and get you back to your dad,” she said.
Dora returned to the purchase counter to ring up his items. Nathan disappeared down the hallway to wherever he was before. When the total came to a whopping ten dollars, Ava pulled a twenty out of her wallet and slid it across to Dora.
“Keep the change. Consider it another donation,” Ava said.
Dora thanked her, and Avery bounced up on his toes beside her.
“Thank you, Ava! That would’ve been all my allowance.”
“You’re welcome, you little loon,” she said. Where the nickname came from, she didn’t know, but he didn’t protest. He threw an arm around her waist in a brief hug before walking ahead of her to the door, back to the car.
Dora hummed behind the counter, her eyes bright with laughter.
“What?” Ava asked her.
“Oh, nothing. Say hi to Owen for me, dear.” Dora waggled her fingers in goodbye.
Ava’s brows furrowed at her response, but she dismissed it to catch up with Avery in the parking lot. She had a kid to return to his dad.
Ava: On our way
Ava: And I want to hear allllll about open mic night.
Owen (Avery’s dad): I can explain…