He laughed as he left.
“Be good kids,” he said, lifting a hand in farewell.
Cole blushed, but Ava cackled.
“I always am, Ollie,” she retorted.
Her father shook his head.
“I don’t believe it, but I don’t want to know, either.”
Her laughter followed him into the hall as he locked the door behind him. Ava stepped toward Cole, throwing her arms over his neck.
“You and I are gonna make up for some wasted time,” she said, kissing him.
Her mouth slanted across his, tongue pushing insistently forward to taste him; in seconds, they were tangled around one another. Cole broke the embrace with a groan, gesturing to the door.
“How long do we have?”
Ava grinned.
“Dunno... but I’m guessing a while.”
“Well, let’s stop wasting it then.”
Before she could respond, he leaned down, putting one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders, picking her up and walking to the bedroom decisively. Ava laughed, squirming in his arms.
“Oh my god, you’re not kidding about wasting time!” she shrieked as he moved her sideways through the doorway.
Cole glanced down, face serious.
“No, not at all,” he said, “now stop wiggling, or I’ll drop you.”
She laughed even harder, and Cole dropped her roughly onto the bed, reaching down to help her out of her clothes. He threw his own in a pile at his feet and then reached over to slam the door. Ava was still giggling, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Just in case,” Cole said, locking the door before stepping over to the bed.
: : : : : : : : : :
Cole woke in the dark.
Ava was asleep in his arms, but the silence had been broken by something. He heard the key in the lock of the apartment's front door, and then the steady tap of Oliver’s feet walking upstairs from the foyer. He was whistling a repeated refrain as he headed to his bedroom.
Cole smiled, pulling Ava closer into the curve of his arms. Her shape pressed against his own, fitting together like two pieces of a whole. “Love you,” she murmured, before going limp in his arms.
Cole closed his eyes, and followed her back into sleep.
Chapter 32: Hanna’s Dream
Hanna crouched in the sand, staring down at them. The man cradled the woman in his arms, their eyes closed as if in sleep, the way two children might rest: like spoons. Her hand was tucked in his, his mouth pressed in a final kiss to the back of her neck. Hanna reached up, wiping away unexpected tears.
They were both dead.
Taking a shuddering breath, she hoisted herself to her feet, eyes taking in the rest of the destruction as she began to walk once more. In the distance, there were faint grey bands – rocky cliffs – rising out of the water. There was flotsam littering the sand, the winged figurehead of the ship rocking gently in the waves off shore.
Everything destroyed…
Hanna’s eyes rose up the long stretch of beach, to the cliffs, and from there into the sky. Above her head, two birds wheeled lazy circles against a shimmering expanse of blue. She squinted, caught in the sight, her feet stumbling to a stop.
She turned back toward the figures on the beach, throat aching. There was something about them that bothered her more than the others she’d seen, but what it was she couldn’t say. She lingered uncertainly. The waves insistently lapped at her shoes, and with a resigned sigh, she began walking again.
There were other people who needed her.
Chapter 33: Déjà Vu
Ava stood in the vaulted main room of the National Gallery, a crowd of people including potential buyers and curators from across the country vying for her attention. Cole waited to the side, watching proudly as she mingled. Tonight she’d handed out a stream of portfolios, answering questions and gesturing to her work. This show was the next big step, her foothold in the art world. Tonight changed things for her.
Cole had been thinking of Oliver’s reading a lot lately, wondering how things would play out as this new part of Ava's life began. The movement into a professional career was a huge transition. Cole’s job at the university, along with his own studies, kept him busy; he knew that Ava had worried about this show and its reviews. If attendance tonight was any reflection, the career of Ava Brooks, graffiti artist, was about to launch in a big way.
The gallery was packed.
Oliver had already arrived; Cole had seen him duck outside to have a cigarette with Marcus a few minutes ago. Cole glanced over to the door again. It was his own family he was watching for. Frank and Nina would arrive soon, and he was surprisingly eager to see them. He and his father had continued their sessions over the course of the Spring and Summer. It hadn’t been easy. Cole was amazed by the sheer amount of work there was in their communication, but he was far more settled than he ever had been with his father. They could talk. Nina and Ava had also grown closer, and the two women were developing their own connections and dynamic.
Ava was family. The thought filled his chest with happiness.
Cole had just turned back to watch Ava, talking to an elderly man wearing an obnoxious orange tie, when a familiar figure stepped into view.
It was Kip Chambers.
“Hey, Cole,” he said warmly. “How’re you doing, man?”
Cole tensed. He didn’t like Kip, – never had – but he was here now, offering his hand. Cole reached out, shaking it quickly.
“Good... good. How ‘bout you?” he asked tersely, glancing at the woman on Kip’s arm.
It was Raya Simpson, though she’d changed since the last time he’d seen her in the police station. Cole struggled to pick out what it was… the process of finishing a stone sculpture popping, unexpectedly, to mind. It was like all of Raya’s sharp edges had been rubbed away, leaving her looking softer than he remembered. Her hair curled around her face; her body more curvy. She smiled, offering her hand too, and Cole noticed that she was wearing a pair of bands on her left ring finger.
‘Married,’ his mind prompted. That might explain the change.
“We’re doing great,” she said happily, squeezing Cole’s fingers before stepping back. “Kip and I wanted to talk to you for a second.”
A sense of déjà vu rose in Cole. ‘Oliver was right...’
“I’m not sure if you’ve heard,” Kip began. “But Ry’ finished her documentary this summer. Editing is gonna be a few more months, but we had an idea we wanted to talk to you about.”
He glanced at Raya and she picked up the story. They’d obviously talked about this more than once.
“Well, if the film just featured established artists,” she said, gesturing to the room, “like Kip or Ava, then I’d use a well-known gallery to show the film and the graffiti. But in our case, a lot of the people are really young, some of them still in high school. There was one young woman, Moira… Mora…”
“Morag,” Kip interjected.
“Right,” Raya said with a smile. “Someone like Morag should get exposure, but given her age, we thought that perhaps the university gallery would be a better venue.”
Cole’s mind was starting to react with a series of ideas. He and the two other interns were curating the university gallery, and this kind of show would be perfect for his thesis and project. It was exactly the kind of real modern artwork Cole always argued about with Wilkins. The kind of artwork that changed the world and made a difference to people’s attitudes.
Art that mattered.
Cole’s gaze went back to Kip.
“So when Raya brought it up to me, I immediately thought of you.” He grinned boyishly. “I just figured since you and Ava are together, you probably have a better sense of how to set up a show that really captures this art form. It wouldn’t be pre-packaged or warped by preconceived notions. It’d be real.”
Cole found himself nodding, adrenaline pulsing through him. This was exactly what he wanted to do as a curato
r.
“Yeah, Kip,” Cole said, smiling genuinely now. “I’d definitely be interested in something like that.”
Chambers nodded, clapping his hand on Cole’s shoulder, then stepping back to Raya. Kip had a matching ring on his left hand, Cole realized in surprise.
“Well,” Kip said, glancing at his wife, “should we get going?”
Cole hesitated.
“You don’t want to say hi to Ava?” He could see she was deep in serious conversation with the man with the orange tie. “I could go get her if you wanted,” Cole offered. It felt weird even saying it, but he felt like he ought to ask.
“No, no… don’t interrupt her,” Raya said, “I’m not feeling great tonight. Evenings are a bit rough for me.”
Kip dropped his voice conspiratorially.
“First trimester’s a bitch. Besides...” Kip added as Ava shook hands with the man in the orange tie, “I think Ava’s just about to steal my agent.”
Cole glanced to Simpson in shock as she rolled her eyes.
“Kip’s agent for Asia. I’m still his North American agent, or at least for the next six months or so.”
Kip pressed a kiss to her temple before turning back to Cole.
“We figured we’d just pass on our congrats through you,” he said with a grin, “and I’ll contact you in a week or so about the university show. There are several really amazing graffiti artists in Ry’s film – Morag in particular. You’ll like what they’ve created.”
Cole’s heart was thudding in excitement. He needed to talk to Ava… now!
“Good man, I’ll look forward to your call.”
“Alright,” Chambers said, “We should run.”
Cole shook their hands again before they left the gallery, arms linked.
Dragons.
: : : : : : : : : :
Oliver and Frank stood in front of one of Ava’s paintings, making awkward small talk. The show had been a resounding success; now, hours later, it was slowing down. The Sergeant Major cleared his throat, glancing over at the man beside him.
“So you’re just back in town for the show then?”
Oliver nodded, his eyes on Cole and Ava. They stood with Chim and Suzanne, grinning and laughing together as if nothing else in the world existed.
“Yeah, I’m in the city until Tuesday, then back on the road,” Oliver answered. “I’ll catch back up with the symphony in Copenhagen. Not to worry though, I’ll be back next summer.” He looked over at Frank, waggling his eyebrows. “Had to twist some arms to get that into my contract the last second but I did it... things are in the air then.”
Frank Thomas shifted uncomfortably. It was the vague sort of reference to knowing things that made him uneasy. It wasn’t the first time it had come up with Oliver Brooks, and he was still not sure he believed in it no matter what Cole said.
“Something’s going on next summer?” Frank asked guardedly.
Oliver winked.
“Nothing for sure yet...” he answered, his eyes drifting back to Ava and Cole. She leaned into him, Cole’s arm looped around her waist, their motions somehow in sync even as they talked. “Just a sense I’ve got.”
Frank nodded.
“Well, then, I’ll make sure Nina and I plan to be around. The house and the grounds are beautiful that time of year.” He coughed nervously. “Lots of room for... uh... outdoor events and such. I’ll make sure we don’t plan a vacation away.”
Oliver chuckled, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.
“Might be a good idea.”
: : : : : : : : : :
The gallery was nearly empty except for a few final patrons and the curatorial staff. Ava stood at one side of the room, barefoot, her shoes held in one hand. Cole was beside her.
“Richard Ashton,” Ava said, grinning. “Kip sold him the panels I did.”
“The ones from the collaboration?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Kip apparently just couldn’t bring himself to paint over them,” she explained, “so he showed them to Rick, and he got really excited about my work.”
Cole grinned, kissing her gently before pulling back.
“The guy in the orange tie?” he asked. “I remember him from that first opening. The one Kip had earlier this year. He was on the phone, talking in Mandarin the whole time.”
Ava giggled.
“Yeah. He’s Kip’s agent in Asia. He wants to set up a couple shows for me next year.” She grinned, one hand sliding up the front of his shirt, grabbing hold of his tie and pulling him in. “So what do you think? You feel like taking a trip to Japan with me sometime?”
“Drop everything and just go?” Cole said with a laugh.
Ava shrugged.
“That’s the plan.”
Cole reached out, brushing a stray hair back from her face.
“Wherever you are is where I need to be.”
The End
Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down Page 23