picked on her way to the funeral. Half of them were probably weeds she thought to herself in amusement, but they looked pretty, so she figured what the hell. Her mom probably would have liked them anyway; she’d never really liked hot house flowers cut at the peak of perfection.
Perfection, she’d told her, was overrated. Freedom was everything.
It was just as well, Ava mused ruefully. She couldn’t have afforded to buy flowers anyway, not even from the local gas station. With one final lament she tossed the flowers down onto the coffin and watched as they landed with a faint thud and parted in the middle, sliding slowly off either side of the curved lid to be crushed along the edges of the grave.
Figures.
She shook her head and turned around to find a familiar face standing right behind her.
‘I’m gonna miss her,’ he murmured, his eyes flickering over Ava’s shoulder and lingering on the gaping hole in the ground.
‘Baz,’ she nodded in greeting, she’d known him since she was a kid. He’d been one of her mom’s oldest friends and also, unbelievably, her lawyer.
His hair was steel gray shoulder length and his eyes a vivid cornflower blue. His weather-beaten face was tanned and etched with deep lines. He wore loose fitting harem pants decorated garishly, patterned in primary colors and on his feet were battered leather sandals. His only concession to the formality of the occasion was a rather boring gray pin-striped tie, which knotted tightly around his neck and lay against his rainbow tie dyed t-shirt.
‘I like your tie,’ her mouth twitched in amusement.
‘Thanks,’ he nodded seriously. ‘Ava…I’m sorry about your mom, she was one of a kind.’
‘That’s one way of describing her I suppose,’ Ava murmured.
‘If you’re feeling up to it,’ he continued, ‘I need to read you her will.’
‘Mom didn’t have a will.’
‘Yes, she did,’ Baz corrected her.
‘But mom didn’t have anything worth putting in a will,’ Ava shook her head. ‘What’d she do? Leave me her stash of weed and the last couple of kegs of her homemade daisy wine?’
‘Ah her daisy wine,’ Baz smiled in remembrance, ‘the first time I had your mom’s wine I lost six days.’
‘You’re lucky you didn’t lose your internal organs,’ Ava muttered.
‘Good times,’ he chuckled.
‘If you say so,’ Ava shrugged.
‘Anyway,’ Baz shook his head, ‘the will. Can you stop by the cottage?’
‘Is that really necessary?’ she replied in annoyance.
She was down to her last thirty bucks and had been sleeping in her truck for the past week. She was almost out of gas too, the trip to Arizona had pretty much cleaned her out. There was a diner just down the street advertising for a temporary waitress. She really should try sweet talking the owner into giving her a job for a couple of days until she had enough money to blow town again, not spending the day reminiscing with Baz about her mom.
‘It really is important Ava,’ he told her bluntly, sensing her reluctance. ‘There was a lot about your mom you didn’t know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just stop by the cottage and we’ll talk,’ he patted her arm comfortingly.
‘Fine,’ she blew out a breath.
She watched him walk back across the cemetery as she reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle. Taking a deep gulp of the lukewarm water she headed toward her dog who watched her approach with a thumping tail. Kneeling down next to her Ava slowly poured the water into her hand and watched as Bailey lapped it up enthusiastically.
‘Is that better girl?’ She stroked her head gently, ‘wanna go for a ride? Huh?’ She rubbed her fur soothingly, ‘looks like we’ve got somewhere to be.’
Bailey jumped to her feet as Ava stood and slipped the half empty bottle back into her bag, dusting off her jeans. She turned and took one last look at her mother’s grave as it was being filled in. Her heart suddenly thudded dully in her chest and her mouth turned down. Everything suddenly felt so final.
Bailey nudged her legs with her blunt nose as if sensing her hesitation.
‘Come on then,’ Ava sighed and headed back toward her truck.
Opening the door Bailey jumped up into the cab and curled up on the bench next to her. Pulling away she flicked the radio on and idly flipped through the stations for a few minutes before finally switching it back off.
She drove through town slowly, barely registering the bustling farmers’ market. Turning onto one of the main streets her eyes were once