‘Dying together…’
It made her want to cry.
Ava wavered on her feet, eyes darting to her cell phone again. She realized in shock that they’d been here all night. Cole was painting even now, though his arms had slowed, and he paused, panting tiredly every once in a while. Outside, the sky had lightened to a greenish blue, promising the coming of dawn. Stumbling to the couch in a daze, Ava pulled off her shoes, slumping down on the cushions, her mind buzzing with lack of sleep. Cole worked on; he turned around at one point, surprised to see her watching him.
The image – larger than life – had transformed again. Their embrace – a death grip – as they went under the water, no longer held rage and exhaustion. There was comfort in death. Ava noted that Cole’s painting style was much more representational than her own. She watched in awe as he shifted the curve of the lips on his self-portrait, so that he was half smiling, as the water rose to cover his face. Pain on his visage, but relief in the expression.
‘Together, at the end.’
As if reaching a pre-defined point, Cole stopped, his body going perfectly still. He stood before the canvas a long time, anger finally dissipated. Fatigue and relief were visible in the relaxed lines of his posture, his body close to collapse. Exhausted, but whole. He dropped the brush into the water-filled coffee can, turning back to where Ava waited.
She smiled, lifting her hand, gesturing him to come near.
Cole joined her on the low couch. Ava lay down near the back, pulling him close. He faced toward her, his paint-stained hands between them, together as if in prayer. She tightened her arms around him, her face next to his on the crumpled drop cloth. Cole caught her eyes as she relaxed, and for the first time in hours, he gave a weary smile.
Ava reached out, petting his hair, then running her fingers down his back. He didn’t speak, though he groaned tiredly. Her fingers brushed his forehead, rubbing away a smudge of paint. Cole’s body was limp in her arms, weak after the lengthy process. She recognized this from her own nights of explosive anger as she waited for his breathing to finally slow. Her hands moved over him again and again in comfort. Her eyes were riveted to the canvas on the far wall.
‘It’s over…’ her mind announced.
Finally Cole slept.
Chapter 26: The Terms of Parley
Cole was in the water, one arm wrapped around her chest, the other slung over the broken mast to which he clung.
“Swim!” he roared, but Ava wasn’t answering any longer. Her face, half-submerged, was ghostly pale, eyes closed, lips faded to blue.
His fingers tightened around her limp hand.
“No, Ava! Stay with me!”
His gaze dropped to their joined hands, white against the solid black of the water-soaked mast. Ava’s wedding ring glinted, a single bright star in the darkness. It was the one he’d placed on her finger only weeks earlier, the day before they’d left on the journey. He took a breath to shout again, just as another wave rose up like a mountain above them. He could hear the sound of wood breaking, echoing like musket shot.
“Dear God, preserve us both,” he gasped in horror.
There was something dark rising on the cresting wave, a winged figure looming above the two of them…
Cole jerked awake to the sound of someone coming up the wooden stairs. He was completely disoriented, not sure where he was or how he’d gotten here. There was a colour-flecked sheet over him that reminded him of Ava. He blinked against the light, twisting sideways and groaning. Running a hand over his face, Cole noticed that the skin on his fingers was stiff with dried paint. He squinted, turning his hands one way and then the other.
‘She was wearing my ring…’ his mind whispered as if from a dream, but he had no idea what that meant.
Pushing himself up on his elbows, he peered back over his shoulder. He froze at the sight that greeted him. There was a painting on the wall – his painting. Death in the water.
With a rush, the rest of the night returned.
The footsteps on the stairs were getting louder. Cole sat up as memories of yesterday’s plane ride and their trip ran through his mind. Martinique seemed more than a day away... almost like a different lifetime. Seconds later, Ava walked through the doorway balancing two cups of coffee in one hand, a paper bag in the other. He jumped up to help as she came in.
“Good to see you’re awake,” Ava said with a grin, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “If you’re looking for it, the washroom’s downstairs on the main floor. Second door on your right. You have to jiggle the handle on the toilet sometimes.”
Cole nodded and jogged down the stairs, returning minutes later. Ava had laid out breakfast on a clean section of drop cloth on the floor and she sat cross-legged beside it. Cole dropped down next to her, reaching out to touch her cheek.
“Thanks...” he said quietly, “for last night.”
She smiled as Cole settled in beside her. Somewhere Ava had found warm muffins. His stomach rumbled in anticipation. She leaned toward him, offering him a cup of coffee.
“Your painting is amazing,” she said quietly. “Painful, but still beautiful.”
“No,” Cole muttered, “it’s not.”
“It reminds me of Gericault’s Raft of the Medusa... all the people from the shipwreck waiting for rescue.” She smiled again. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a stretched canvas for you. You might have a career as a 2D painter after all.”
“Thanks, I think.”
His voice was wary; Ava sighed at the sound.
“It’s a compliment, Cole. Take it...” she frowned. “And stop feeling so self-conscious about this.”
He gave her an embarrassed smile, ducking his head and taking a sip of his coffee.
“I do this all the time,” Ava explained, gesturing at his work. “I get this...”
Cole stared down at the coffee before his eyes sought hers.
“Thank you.”
The words didn’t feel like enough, but he didn’t know how to keep going. He lifted the muffin and began to eat.
“So, what do you feel like doing today?” Ava asked after a bit. “It isn’t quite two and we’ve got the rest of Saturday waiting for us. You want to go for a ride? It’s already pretty warm out there.”
Cole’s face grew distant.
“I’m going to drive out to my dad’s place today,” he said coldly. “I want to hear the rest of Nina’s story.”
The muffin dropped from Ava's fingers.
“So what,” she asked, voice frustrated. “You’re just gonna burst in, guns blazing, and call him out?”
Cole laughed mirthlessly.
“Uh... yeah. Something like that.”
She blew out an angry breath.
“God, Cole, that’s just gonna cause a huge fight, you know? It won’t solve a goddamn thing!”
He scowled, turning his attention back to his food, dropping bits and pieces of the muffin onto the cloth. Ava waited for him to answer. When he stayed silent, she touched his knee.
“Hey,” she said quietly, “look at me.” He eyed her warily. “What do you want out of all of this?” she asked.
Cole turned to stare at the painting on the wall. The feelings it invoked – being out of control and not knowing how to get back to solid ground – were exactly how he felt.
“Cole…?”
“I want the truth,” he said tiredly.
“You sure about that? Or do you really just want to hurt him... ‘cause there’s a difference.”
His jaw clenched until his teeth throbbed. (Cole hated that she knew him like this.) Ava pulled her fingers from his knee and rubbed her thumb over the back of his knuckles in silent comfort. Outside the window, a car’s tires hissed through the puddles, silence following it.
“You have a right to know what happened, Cole,” Ava said. “You do. But you need to decide if you’re ready.” Cole lifted his eyes, weighing her words against the pain inside him.
“Think about it,” she co
ntinued. “If you go out there today, there won’t be any coming back from it. Some things you just can’t undo…”
Cole pressed her hand against his cheek.
“So what do I do, then?”
“Call Marta. Get her opinion on it.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Marta Langden set the phone down into its cradle, eyeing the scribbled notations on the yellow pad.
Nina gave note to Ava... admitted something more than affair... Cole wanted to know... Frank not talking to him... Angela’s depression part of it... Ava thinks Nina has ulterior motives. CHECK OLD SESSION NOTES!
Marta tore the sheet off, placing it next to her keyboard to be typed out. When Frank Thomas had called her last week, panicked and wanting to restart his private meetings, she knew that things were starting to spiral out of control. His behaviour in the four sessions since had added to that conviction. The phone call from his son had confirmed it beyond question.
Everything was going to come out.
Marta leaned back in her chair, tapping her toe as she mentally shuffled through the years since she’d counselled both Frank and Nina Thomas. She could recall the challenges of those times, the subtle and not-so-subtle manipulations between the couple. She clicked open the laptop's folder of clients, opening their file. Marta frowned as she read. There was no more room for secrets now.
Her fingers drummed once more and then stopped. Decision made, she picked up the handset, dialling the Thomases' number. The phone rang twice and then connected with a crackle.
“Hello?” It was Nina Thomas, her cultured voice recognizable after all these years.
“Hello Nina. It’s Dr. Langden calling... how are you?”
“Fine, Marta, just fine... and you?”
“Oh good, just busy.”
Nina chuckled.
“Well, Frank’s certainly taking up all your spare time. It’s hard having him away so often. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’ve started in early on the yard. Trying a bit of xeriscaping near the driveway.”
“Xeriscaping?”
Nina continued on happily, describing the plants and minimal watering. Marta waited, making small noises of agreement, her eyes on the clock. At the one minute mark she interrupted.
“Ah… I’m sure with your green thumb, it’ll be lovely,” Marta said, then abruptly changed tack. “Nina, I’m actually calling you today for another reason.”
There was a short pause, and the voice on the phone returned.
“Ava found the note, didn’t she?” Her voice was sharper, less pleasant. Nina on guard.
Marta sighed. If there was anything she knew about Nina Thomas, it was that the woman never did anything by accident.
“Yes, she did.”
“I thought Cole should know about that,” she said brusquely, “and I wasn’t sure Frank would ever willingly share it.”
Dr. Langden’s toe had begun tapping under her desk again. She waited. (Nina might do things for her own reasons, but she almost always blurted them out if given time.)
“So do you want me to had Frank call you back?” Nina asked.
“Well, that’s the thing...” Marta said, forcing her voice to stay neutral, “Cole told me he wants to meet with you both of you now.” The tempo of her tapping increased as she spoke, irritation rising.
“Oh!” Nina squeaked. “I didn’t... I thought that…” Her voice had lost something, grown breathier. “Well, I’m really busy with the landscaper this week. And we’re having the soil brought in Saturday. I mean I can’t just drop everything…”
Her words trailed off.
“I can sympathize with your scheduling issues, Nina,” Marta replied, “but seeing as you were the one who brought this up, it’s only fair that you be part of the discussion.”
There was a long pause. Dr. Langden was just about to ask Nina if she was still there when she finally answered.
“Alright then,” she snapped. “I’ll come too.”
: : : : : : : : : :
It had been a long two weeks since the return from Martinique. Busy with exams and culminating projects, Cole and Ava hadn’t visited the Thomases. University was winding down and both of them were overwhelmed as the countdown to graduation began.
The last of the intaglio multi-prints had been printed. The remaining images were blacked away from the zinc plates under the dark grain of the mezzotint rocker. Ava’s final image was created of light and shadow, like ripples seen underwater, the image revealed through the use of oil and burin. Cole’s was as different from hers as it was similar. It was a landscape. The cliff with the rocks below; the silhouette of a single person walking the shore. Ava had never asked Cole who the person was… whether the tiny figure was Cole or her.
Somehow it seemed better if she didn’t know.
Family life for the Thomases was tenuous at best. Cole had had two stilted phone conversations with Frank and Nina, though the details of the note and what it entailed for all of them had never been discussed. Everyone was cautious of unsettling the precarious balance. There was a flurry of preparatory emails with Marta Langden and half a notebook full of writing for Cole, all of it an attempt to mitigate the explosiveness of the eventual meeting. No one knew exactly what secrets would be revealed when the tide receded.
As the weekend neared, Ava felt completely unsettled. Conflict was coming like dark clouds on the horizon hinting at a coming storm. She struggled with her wariness by calling her father's hotel room at random hours. He never complained. Instead, they chatted about empty things, small moments from school, and old memories until Ava finally admitted to her real fears. Oliver calmed her nerves, assuring her things would work out, no matter how the discussion went.
“It’s all choices, Ava... just do the right thing, and don’t worry. Nothing’s set.”
She smiled into the receiver.
“That’s the part that worries me, though.”
Her father made a coughing sound. (Ava knew he was trying to hide his laughter.) The low rumble of his voice returned seconds later.
“But Kiddo, what’d be the point, if there wasn’t a choice...? Where’s the fun in that?”
Ava snorted.
“It’d be nice to just know, Dad. To just have this idea of ‘do this’ and everything works out... to just have that guarantee.... not knowing scares me.”
Her father paused, and the low buzz of the trans-Atlantic connection filled her ear.
“You say that now,” he said gruffly. “But if you had no choice, if that was taken away from you, you’d probably feel differently.”
His voice sounded hollow and sad. Ava sighed, wishing again that he wasn’t on tour.
“Yeah, Ollie... you’re probably right... but I hate feeling like I’m gonna screw this all up.”
Her father chuckled.
“Then trust me on this. I saw the end of your cup, Ava.” He paused, and the hair crawled over her scalp. “It was dragons all the way down.”
She grinned.
“Maybe when you come back you could—”
“Read your teacup?”
Ava laughed, closing her eyes and imagining him sitting next to her on the couch, cigarette in hand.
“No, Dad. Read Cole’s teacup...”
: : : : : : : : : :
They were heading out for the first meeting with Frank and Nina. Ava drove the truck as they wove along the road that wrapped the coast like a ribbon, Cole in the seat beside her. He took her hand, pulling it over toward him. He'd been quiet for the last half hour, his jaw set.
“You okay?” she asked, peering over at him.
Cole's smile didn’t make it to his eyes.
“I will be.”
He flicked on the radio, ending any further conversation; for a time, the coastal highway moved past in a flicker of bright Spring colours. Ava knew what Cole was feeling. He’d worried about the meeting for weeks, tension building until he’d begun waking at night, lack of sleep leaving him irritable during
the day. Cole had spent the sleepless hours writing thoughts and ideas as they came to him, sometimes staying up until dawn.
Ava knew this because Cole had been sharing her apartment ever since they’d gotten back from Martinique.
Things had shifted between them, permanency coming with a new level of intimacy. They found comfort in their own connection as things around them began to unravel. Frank and Nina, Ava had reminded him, were not their issue. They were strong. The meeting with them was to provide necessary closure for Cole, something that would close that chapter of his life, and let him start the next.
That was why Ava had agreed to attend the counselling session, too.
: : : : : : : : : :
They sat in Marta’s office, chairs in their usual inward-facing positions. Frank and Nina had arrived early and as Cole and Ava walked into the room, they stood up nervously from their recliners. Without pause, Cole went over to his father and hugged him. Tears prickled Ava’s eyes at the gesture.
‘He’s trying...’
Frank muttered something to Cole and both men smiled. Seeing it, the first bit of tension eased from Ava’s chest. Father and son stepped away from each other, talking about unimportant things: the weather, plans for the house, the end of university, graduation and applications for grad school. There was an unspoken agreement to talk about things that were safe.
While they chatted, Ava took surreptitious glances at Nina. She had changed since Ava had last seen her, her skin waxy, smile tight and anxious. She was watching her husband and stepson, hands clasped tightly before her. It was the speech posture that Ava knew so well.
Stepping toward her, Ava reached out for Nina, pulling the woman into a warm hug. Despite her frustrations with the note and the havoc it had unleashed, Ava actually liked Nina. That hadn’t changed. She just wished she understood her motivations.
Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down Page 18