Chapter 51 - The Letter Ava Brought
Ava put the envelope on our kitchen table and said, “Before you read it, don’t call anyone.”
I looked at her.
“Good afternoon to you too.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Hello.”
She almost smiled.
Then she sat down.
Lena came from the living room carrying the drawing Isabel had finally allowed us to see. It was a train with an unreasonable number of windows, each occupied by somebody our daughter knew.
Ava had one near the engine.
“What’s happened?” Lena asked.
“I got in.”
The envelope contained an offer from a paid technical training program in Pittsburgh.
Classroom instruction.
Supervised work.
A placement she had applied for without telling us.
Ava had turned eighteen that spring. Somehow, I had continued thinking of eighteen as a date approaching in the distance.
Now it sat across from me with a backpack and a departure schedule.
“That’s wonderful,” Lena said.
Ava exhaled.
“You think so?”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
I read the letter again.
“What would you be working on?”
“Equipment maintenance at first. Different departments afterward. There’s a lot I haven’t done before.”
“Where would you live?”
“They sent a housing list.”
“Have you visited?”
“Yes. Mom came.”
I looked up.
“When?”
“Last month.”
There was no accusation in her answer.
It still reminded me that an entire life existed beyond the portions she brought into our house.
I set the letter down.
“Congratulations, Ava.”
“Thank you.”
“And I won’t call anyone.”
She studied my face.
“I need to know I got this because of me.”
“Then I’m glad they made the offer before I knew about it.”
Her shoulders lowered.
Lena poured tea.
For a while, Ava described the workshop she had toured, the questions she had been asked, and the practical exercise that had made her hands shake until she began doing it.
Then Isabel appeared.
“Where are you going?”
Ava turned.
“Pittsburgh.”
“Is that far?”
“A few hours.”
“Will you sleep there?”
“Yes.”
Isabel examined her carefully.
Then she went to the table and picked up the drawing.
She pointed at Ava’s window.
“Do I move you?”
Ava’s face changed.
“No,” she said.
“But you won’t be on the train.”
“I might just be getting off at a different station.”
Isabel thought about that.
Then she took a pencil.
Beside the track, she drew a platform.
Ava watched without speaking.
When our daughter finished, she added a second small figure.
“Who’s that?” Lena asked.
May you like
“Her mama. Visiting.”
Only then did Ava look away.
