The next morning most of the smell had dissipated, though every surface was sticky with humidity. Ava shut the windows and turned the air-conditioning on. She was pouring coffee when Kaitlyn called.
“Hi, honeybun!” she said. “How’s things?”
“Okay, I guess,” Ava said.
“Yeah? Tell me all about New Awlyuns.”
“It’s cool. I’ve been riding my bike a lot.”
“That sounds cool. Getting in shape.”
“More like exploring.”
“Right. Listen, I have news. I found a roommate.”
“What?” Ava said.
“She’s cool. A graduate student. I figure she’ll be pretty quiet, probably study a lot.”
“Is she going to stay in my room? In mom’s?” Ava fought the anxiety in her voice.
“Don’t get upset, please? I’m taking your mom’s room, and this chick, her name’s Ginger, she can have mine. Been moving the furniture around, man what a pain.”
“I didn’t know you were getting a roommate,” Ava said.
“Well, I can’t afford this place on my own, I was only paying like a third of the rent before. I don’t need a place this big all to myself.”
“I never thought about that.”
“Yeah. Well, it’s that or move out, right?”
“What about our stuff?” Ava said.
“I stuck everything in your old room for now. Ginger’s bringing her own furniture. But I guess you’ll be staying down there, right? Your grandmother can have everything shipped.”
“I guess,” Ava said.
“Cool. No rush. But I was going through stuff, cleaning up. I found some things I’m gonna send you.”
“What?”
“It’s these great photos of you and your mom. From before I met you. Your dad is in some, too. I’m gonna send you a package in the mail.”
“Thank you,” Ava said. “I would love that.”
“Listen, it’s not like Ginger’s replacing your mom. You get that, right?”
“Kaitlyn, god. Of course.”
“Okay, just checking. You don’t have to be all teenager-y,” Kaitlyn said. “Anyway, I was thinking, maybe I could talk to your grandmother. You know, check in with an adult. She around?”
“Not right now,” Ava said. “She’s super busy.”
“Alright, well get her to call me?”
“Yeah,” Ava said. “I will.”
“I gotta run. Keep an eye out for that package, maybe next week.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Ava hung up the phone. She would not give Lane the message. If Kaitlyn found out how messed up she was—found out about the fire, or the marijuana, or the problems with her memory, what would happen to Ava? They wouldn’t let her stay. So then what? A foster home? Would it be here in New Orleans, or in Iowa, or somewhere else completely? Maybe she would have to live on the street with the gutter punks who always asked for a dollar.
She thought of their apartment in Iowa City, the small tidy kitchen, with her school pictures and report card displayed on the fridge. Louise had taped it up the day it came in the mail. Ava could see it clearly, next to a chunky magnet of a plaster bunny that Ava had once given Louise as a gift. The bunny was too heavy and the magnet not strong enough for its weight, and it periodically slid down the length of the fridge to rest at knee level. Louise loved it and raised it to the top of the refrigerator door whenever she noticed it had sunk. Ava’s report card had been excellent, as usual. Five A’s, two B’s, perfect conduct and attendance.
Louise wasn’t the type of mother to give rewards for good grades. Some of Ava’s friends got new clothes or cases for their iPhones if they got A’s. Louise could not afford those things, but she let Ava know how proud she was. How smart she was. You can be anything you want, Louise said. She had drawn funny little hearts and stars and rainbows in the margins of the report card.
“Mom, that’s babyish,” Ava had said. “Am I still a five-year-old in your brain?”
“Yes, exactly. You were a cute five-year-old. Remember those purple corduroy overalls you used to wear every day? You’d get mad if I put them in the wash.”
“Mom, I’m taller than you, you realize that, right?”
“Nope. Not possible. Besides, what kind of monster doesn’t like rainbows.”
“Guess I’m a monster then,” Ava had said.
Louise wrote in a curly, little girl script, “Mom is proud” at the top of the report card and taped it up. Ava had laughed at her—she’d never gotten anything but good report cards, and to make such a big deal out of it seemed silly. Now, like everything Louise had touched, Ava longed for it. How could she have left it behind? Was it still on the refrigerator or had Kaitlyn thrown it away? Ava pictured the rest of her stuff, and her mother’s things piled into her old bedroom. When she had left back in June she hadn’t realized she might not see that place again. She clutched the phone and wept.