And you came, Ava said. I said I would, Victoria said. Some people say they will, Ava said. And then they don't. The weight behind that sentence from an 8-year-old landed harder than she expected.
Victoria looked at the child and understood immediately that Ava was not talking about the fall festival. I don't do that, Victoria said. Ava assessed her. Okay, she said and then grabbed Victoria's hand and started moving. Come on, I have to show you the cakewalk before all the good cakes are gone.
She let herself be pulled. Marcus was near the cakewalk table talking to a man about his age big guy. Baseball cap, easy laugh, and when he saw her, he raised his chin in acknowledgement. Not a wave, just a recognition. She returned it and felt something juvenile and warm about the exchange that she decided not to examine too closely.
Ava positioned her in front of the cakewalk with the gravity of a museum dosent. "Okay," she said. "So you walk in a circle on the squares. When the music stops, you stop on a square. Then they call a number.
If it's your number, you pick a cake. " She pointed. That chocolate one is mine. If I win, it has buttercream. Maya's mom made it. It's the best one.
Have you won yet? No. I've been saving my tickets until you got here. Victoria looked at her. Why?
Ava said with the simplicity of someone stating the obvious. Because it's more fun with two people. Victoria reached into her pocket where she'd stuffed a handful of tickets from the entrance table. She counted them. I have eight tickets, she said.
How many is one round? Two, Ava said. So, we have four rounds. Enough to win that cake. We have to win that cake.
Ava said they did not win the cake on the first round. They did not win it on the second round either, which was when Victoria noticed that Marcus had drifted closer and was watching them from maybe 10 ft away with his arms folded and an expression she couldn't immediately name something quiet and private that he wasn't performing for anyone. Third round, the music stopped. The volunteer at the table reached into a coffee can and pulled out a slip of paper and read a number. "11," she called.
Victoria looked down at her square. She looked up at Ava. "11," she said. Aa's eyes went wide. Then she grabbed Victoria's arm with both hands and shook it.