The laundry line behind Ava's empty house was old. Two poles, a rusted wire between them, leaning like it was tired. The house itself was half empty now. Vanessa had taken the master bedroom, Tyler had taken Chloe's old room, and Ava slept in the small study where Daniel's MIT sweatshirt used to hang. The pearls box was empty. The jewelry was on Vanessa's neck.
Ava hung clothes at six in the morning. She always did laundry at six because the water pressure was better and because no one else was awake to see what she hung.
On the line that morning were three things. Her own grey sweater with a hole at the cuff. Chloe's old school t-shirt that Chloe had left behind when she went to boarding, that Ava kept washing even though Chloe said she hated it. And Michael's black cashmere blanket.
The blanket had been left at her door again. No knock. No touch till seventy six. Just sandalwood smell and black cashmere folded like a gift. He had left it on the night after Chapter thirty three, after Chloe ate the chicken stew on the third floor while Vanessa's car idled outside. He had left it with a note that said nothing, because ghost promise men do not write long letters, they time things with burnt hand on watch.
Ava had not wanted to wash it. Black cashmere should be dry cleaned. It cost more than her GoodNovel salary for three months. But it smelled like the boarding house stairs and like chicken stew and like a man who sat one stair above her without touching, and she wanted it clean for him.
She washed it by hand in cold water, the way her mother had taught her in the village before she was left to die in wilderness for twelve million. She squeezed it, did not wring it. She hung it on the rusted wire with wooden pegs.
At seven fifteen, Chloe came home without telling anyone.
She was supposed to be at UCT. Biochemistry tutorial at seven thirty. Gold dress to lab coat arc, Chapter thirty two lab coat over gold dress, Chapter thirty three sandalwood stairs, now Chapter thirty four cashmere in laundry. Sealed.
She came through the back gate because the front gate was where Michael guarded and she did not want to see the gate guard after he saw her eat. She wore her lab coat over her shorts, not her gold dress. That was new. One small win after thirty three chapters of hate till one thirty three.
She stopped at the laundry line.
She saw her own old t-shirt, her mother's grey sweater, and the black cashmere blanket hanging in the morning sun. The blanket was too big for the line. It dripped slowly. The water made a small dark spot on the dust below.
Chloe knew that blanket. She had seen it on Michael's shoulders at the UCT gate at night. Black cashmere, blue-grey eyes, sandalwood, burnt hand. She had thrown it out of her mother's window once. Chapter forty three was coming where she would throw it again, but this was thirty four.
"Why is his blanket here?" Chloe said, loud, so Ava would hear from the kitchen.
Ava came out with wet hands. She wiped them on her sweater.
"He left it," Ava said. "At the door."
Chloe crossed her arms. Eighteen. UCT Biochemistry. Hates her mother till one thirty three. Calls Vanessa Mama. Gold dress hanging in her boarding room.
"Vanessa Mama says he bought you for twelve million," Chloe said. "She says you let a rich man buy you and now you wash his expensive blanket like a maid."
Ava did not answer. She reached for the grey sweater and folded it, even though it was still damp.
Chloe walked to the line and touched the cashmere. It was soft. Softer than anything Vanessa Mama had ever bought her. Vanessa bought gold dress, shiny things that itched. This was soft and heavy and smelled like sandalwood and like the stairs of her boarding house.
"Did you sleep with him for it?" Chloe asked. The question was cruel. It was the kind of question an eighteen year old asks when she is jealous and does not know how to say I am jealous.
Ava's hands stopped.
"No," Ava said. "No touch till seventy six. Scar touch heart not sex. That is his promise."
Chloe laughed. Short, hard laugh.
"Ghost promise? What is that? You were left to die in wilderness and a man with burnt hand buys you and you think it is love?"
Ava looked at her daughter. Really looked. Chloe's eyes were red. She had not slept. She had studied Krebs cycle till two oh seven. She had eaten chicken stew that her mother made at four in the morning. She had drawn a sandalwood leaf on her notes.
"You are jealous," Ava said quietly.
Chloe's hand tightened on the cashmere.
"I am not jealous! I have Vanessa Mama! She buys me sushi! She buys me gold dress! She does not wash poor blankets!"
"Then why are you here at seven fifteen when you have tutorial at seven thirty?" Ava asked. "Why did you come through back gate? Why are you wearing lab coat and not gold dress?"
Chloe did not answer. She yanked the peg off the cashmere blanket. It fell into the dust.
Ava did not pick it up. She let it lie.
Michael arrived at seven twenty. He always arrived at seven twenty when Ava did laundry. He timed it. Burnt hand on watch. He came through the back gate too, because he knew Chloe would come through back gate to avoid him, and he guarded back gates too.
He wore black cashmere coat, even though his blanket was on the ground. Blue-grey eyes saw the blanket in the dust. Saw Chloe's foot next to it. Saw Ava's wet hands.
He did not speak to Chloe first. He spoke to Ava.
"You washed it in cold water," he said. "You should not have. It will shrink."
Ava shrugged. "It smelled like stairs."
Michael bent and picked up the blanket. He shook the dust off with his burnt hand. The scar was pink in the morning light. He had burned it saving his first wife. That was the story for Chapter eighteen. Now he burned his other hand saving Chloe's lab coat in Chapter forty four. Sealed.
He folded the blanket, dust and all, and held it to his chest. Sandalwood came off it in a wave.
Chloe watched. Her jealousy was a small, ugly animal in her chest. She wanted someone to wash her t-shirt like that. She wanted someone to sit one stair above her without touching. She wanted someone to time her light with burnt hand on watch.
"Why do you have her blanket?" she said to Michael, voice smaller now.
"She washed it," Michael said. "She never eats. She washes things for people she loves. That is how she loves."
"She never washed my gold dress," Chloe said.
"Gold dress is for party," Michael said. "Lab coat is for work. You wore lab coat today. That is why you came home. To show her."
Chloe looked down at her lab coat. White, too big, UCT logo on the pocket. She had worn it without thinking. She had wanted Ava to see.
"I failed my test last week," Chloe whispered. "Biochemistry. Vanessa Mama said I should quit and do marketing. She said Biochemistry is for poor girls who want to be bought for twelve million."
Ava stepped forward. No touch? No, mother can touch daughter even if man cannot touch woman till seventy six. That rule was for Michael, not for Ava.
She touched Chloe's lab coat sleeve.
"You passed yesterday," Ava said. "Professor Ndlovu told me. You passed Krebs cycle."
Chloe's eyes filled. Eighteen-year-olds cry fast when they are tired.
"I drew a leaf on my notes," Chloe said. "Sandalwood leaf. I don't know why."
Michael's blue-grey eyes softened. Burnt hand on watch stopped timing.
"Sandalwood every five chapters," he said quietly. "It is your mother's smell now too."
Chloe wiped her eyes with her lab coat sleeve. White lab coat over gold dress soul.
"I have to go to tutorial," she said. "I will be late."
Ava nodded. "Eat first. Chicken stew still there."
Chloe looked at the black cashmere blanket in Michael's hands. Then at her mother's grey sweater on the line. Then at her own old t-shirt that her mother kept washing even though she said she hated it.
"Why do you keep washing my old shirt?" Chloe asked.
"Because you left it," Ava said. "And I thought one day you would want it."
Chloe did not answer. She turned and walked through the back gate, lab coat flapping, gold dress ghost still hanging in her boarding room, hate till one thirty three still sealed, but one thread looser.
Michael watched her go till the gate closed. Then he handed the cashmere blanket back to Ava.
"Hang it again," he said. "In sun. It will dry."
Ava hung it again. Black cashmere next to grey sweater next to old t-shirt. Three things on a rusted wire, drying in Cape Town sun.
Michael stood one stair above her on the small back stoep. No touch till seventy six. Sandalwood stairs had become sandalwood laundry line.
He put his burnt hand on his watch and timed how long it took Chloe to get to UCT.
Ava timed how long it took her daughter to forgive her. One hundred chapters left till one thirty three.