The NOVA Trilogy Boxed Set

by Jayce, Aven

  I hear Leondra’s voice shout from the hall. “Sophia, it’s me.”

  “Come in,” I yell with a mouth full of cake.

  She walks in and closes my door, waiting for me to join her in my foyer. I walk over with cake in hand, dropping crumbs and frosting as I move. She smiles as I approach, reaching to wipe it from my face.

  “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, honey,” she says in her usual calm voice. “Cove knows that. He wants to be with you, I know he does, but there are consequences if he proceeds.”

  “Mera shouldn’t have to be the one who pays for what we did.”

  “Neither should my husband, but that’s how Paul Jameson works, and those are the rules we need to follow.”

  “I can fix this. I need to talk to him.”

  “Sophia,” her voice low and soft, “I need you and Cove to be in my loft tonight. I can’t be alone, and I don’t want either one of you to be alone either. You may feel like you have no one, but you have me. I’m here for you. Why don’t you get some things together for the evening? I’ll make sure Cove is there as well. You can charge your phone and call your father, or you can use my phone if you want.”

  I look down at the blob of dark cake that fills my hand, and then back at the warmth radiating from this woman’s face. I start to cry that she cares so much about someone who she hardly knows. I drop the cake to the floor as tears stream down my face, washing away the crumbs on the corners of my mouth. Leondra rubs my arm and pulls me into a warm hug.

  “Sophia sweetie, everything’s going to be okay. Both you and Cove have been through a lot and you’re both very emotional right now. That doesn’t make for a good start to any relationship. I need the two of you to be strong for one another, for yourselves, and for me.” She steps back with a hand on each of my shoulders. “Come over when you’re ready, okay?”

  “I’m ready now,” I say, walking up the stairs to get my clothes that are still packed and sitting on my bed. I wash my hands, take the handle of the suitcase, and drag it down the stairs. Leondra has cleaned the cake off my floor, and is waiting for me at the door. I stop at the foyer bathroom and take a tissue, wiping the tears off my cheeks before proceeding down the hallway back to her loft.

  “You can stay in one of the guest bedrooms. I have two.”

  She takes me up the first flight of stairs, stopping at the top in front of the door that is an extra room in my place, and in Cove’s loft; a pool. As expected, the room she leads me into is extraordinary and unique, just like her, full of art, passion, vibrant colors and warmth. I put my suitcase down on a black canopy bed that’s covered with a lime green and orange striped blanket. A turquoise dresser is in the corner and a dark yellow chair covered with a galloping horse pattern rests next to it. There’s a small wooden table next to the chair with a dark red lamp and a picture of Cove as a child. The room also has a full wall of books and a row of four photographs in white frames. Each photo is of the same winding road leading into the woods, shot during different seasons of the year.

  “I’m going to talk to Cove, do you need anything?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I say, looking away from the photographs.

  “There’s a bathroom through that door,” she says, pointing to her right. “Feel free to roam around, or to get something to eat or drink. My home is open to you.”

  I smile as she walks down the steps and out her door.

  I’m alone in Leondra’s home. A woman I just met eight days ago, who has already seen me with her son’s dick in my mouth, who has drawn my vagina, nurtured my cat, comforted me while I cried, and wiped my face clean of chocolate cake. That’s more than my mother has done for me in my entire life.

  I open my suitcase, taking out my pajama bottoms, bath items, and phone charger, and place them onto the bed. I plug in my phone and wait for a small charge on the battery so that I can see what calls I’ve missed. My phone beeps over and over as messages and texts pour into my inbox. I check my text messages first, two from Cove, and three from Mera. Cove tells me to stay put and that he’ll be back, and the final one asks me where I am. Mera sent me a text when my father was there, telling me that he’s an ass. I didn’t hear it come through earlier in the day. Her final two confuse me:

  XOXOZZZ.

  I’LL BE FINE, DDAS.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid, but you better not either,” I say out loud. Why would she send me a hugs and kisses text before falling asleep after my father was already there?

  I check and see that her final two messages just came through about thirty minutes ago, so I immediately text her back.

  CM

  “Oh forget it, I’m just going to call her myself. Enough of this texting back and forth.” I dial and her phone goes to voice mail. She must have already turned it off, or my father did. I leave a message telling her to call me as soon as she can, letting her know I’m fine, and that I’m going to get her out of this.

  I listen to my voicemail and hear three messages from Cove, and two from Leondra from when they were searching for me earlier. Cove sounds worried that he can’t find me, and he demands in each message that I call him and return to the hotel. Then, I hear my father’s voice come through my phone. He’s much calmer than I would expect him to sound after everything that’s happened, but his words still cut through me like a knife.

  Sophia, I left you a note on your bed, but you deserve a better explanation from me. I’m calling to let you know that I’m leaving in a few hours, and we probably won’t see one another again for some time. I thought I could make it work with you, kiddo. That you and I could be father and daughter like old times, but now you know too much about my past. It’s better for both of us if we separate, and probably safer for you as well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry. You disrespected me, and went behind my back when I was trying to keep you safe. You have mistreated your body, tossed your friend to the sharks, and deserted me. And for who? Cove Everton? He’s not a man. I believe you’ll both come crawling back. Maybe this will teach the two of you a lesson, and if not, well… I still win. Don’t expect me to drop my workload and business responsibilities to listen to you. In time, you may hear from me, but not until I make back some of the money I’ve lost from Cove’s mistake. Cutting him out of the business puts a hole in my St. Louis area, and until that’s resolved I don’t want to think about the two of you. I might be able to forgive you in the future, but Cove? I’m not through with him yet. He’ll never be able to keep his big mouth shut. Even though his own words put his father in prison, he’ll never learn.

  What a coward. The call ends, and my phone beeps with an incoming text from Mera.

  TTYS

  “Talk to you soon too, my friend,” I whisper, and place my phone on the table next to Cove’s photo. I guess I won’t be calling my father tonight. Fuck, this is messed up. How did Cove’s own words put his father in prison?

  I look around the room, focusing on the photographs again. The four scenes on the wall should be soothing, but instead they make me feel completely alone. There’s a road leading to who knows where, and the lack of any human presence is dismal. I wonder if Leondra shot these, and if the road is in this area. Seasons change, and still there’s nothing. The road never changes. The trees bud and grow, and drop their leaves before the snow blankets their bare branches, but the road is always the same. Empty, disappearing around a turn into the trees.

  The shelves lining the opposite wall are full of books and little family trinkets. There’s a small ceramic piece that could be a bowl, or a vase, lopsided and poorly painted in a bright blue color. It has the look of a grammar school art project, and I can only assume that it was made by Cove as a child. One shelf has a family photo from Christmas morning many years ago, wrapping paper thrown everywhere, and Cove is asleep with a dump truck in his hand. His mouth is open, hair messy, and he’s wearing a flannel sleep set. He was a beautiful child.

  I comb through the books, most of
which are art related, until I come across a photo album. The first few pages are of Leondra and her husband’s wedding, Cove Everton II. An invitation to the event is in the album, as well as a birth announcement for Cove two years later. The album overflows with photos of him as a baby and a toddler. The same album could be found in any middle class American home, timeless shots of a nude baby on a blanket, learning to walk, messy face after eating, crying at the sight of a candlelit birthday cake, and toddler potty training. He smiles in most of the photographs and is absolutely adorable. In one image he’s giving Leondra a hug as they face the camera, cheek to cheek, with big grins.

  My body aches with his absence. I crave his touch and to hear his soft voice in my ear. I close the album and slide it back onto the shelf, knowing that I’ll just fall deeper in love with him with every image I see. I’m getting in too deep with this family, and if he said he made a mistake by being with me, I had better start figuring out a way to detach. Rummaging through family albums isn’t the way to do it.

  I slide out of my clothes and toss them onto the bed. I’m overwrought, more so than usual, and I need to relax before falling asleep. My grey flannel pajama bottoms feel comfortable against my skin as I reach my arms over my head, then down to my feet.

  After a good stretch, I walk out of the bedroom and stand on the second floor landing, admiring Leondra’s keen eye for color and the rich textures throughout her space. From this distance, the beach scene painting with which I was so enamored earlier is drastically altered. The bodies in the painting create the shape of a skull with two eyes, something one would never notice when sitting directly next to the ten foot piece. It’s a wonderful illusion, yet again, strikingly depressing like the winding road in the bedroom. I wonder if other objects in her home have the same sense of mystery, and if she planned for people to notice these things on their own, or if she explains the work in detail to her guests.

  I take the flight of steps up to the third floor, expecting to see the master bedroom like I have in my loft. A harsh smell of chemicals enters my lungs as I step onto a grey concrete floor, surprised that she doesn’t have the wood floors that Cove and I both share. My eyes travel across the space and fix on a large wooden easel next to the window. The painting in progress is of a nude young man shown in profile. His knees are up, and his arms and hands are wrapped around his lower legs with his forehead resting on his knees. It reminds me of how I was sitting in the bathroom yesterday at the hotel. Like the other work in the house, it has a sense of sorrow, and although this calm and kindhearted woman surrounds herself with bright colors, her depression still creeps in through her work.

  There are stacks of paintings that lean against the wall and as I browse through them, I find that they’re all of the same man depicted during different ages of his life. In his older years he is sometimes painted with a younger woman by his side, but mostly, he’s alone. The scenes are dark, using greys and cool colors. Dried paint splatters and drips are on some of the walls, windows, and the floor around her easel.

  “You probably shouldn’t be up here.”

  Cove stands at the top of the stairs.

  “I’m sorry, but your mother said I could explore. She’s a very ardent and focused artist.”

  “I’d like you to put on a shirt, Sophia. This is my mother’s home and it’s disrespectful.”

  I look down, completely unaware that I’m only wearing my pajama bottoms and no top. Cove keeps his eyes on my face as he makes his request.

  “She’s seen me naked. I doubt that she’d care if I made myself comfortable in her home.”

  “I care,” he fires at me. “Put a fucking shirt on.”

  “You’re being such an ass.”

  He approaches me, unbuttoning his shirt and yanking his arms quickly through the sleeves; tossing it in my face. I catch it and put it on to shut him up. He walks around me and rests against a window, smirking at his victory.

  “So tell me how you know Devery.”

  “It doesn’t matter, just be careful around her. She knows your father and I’d prefer if you kept information about me to yourself. She doesn’t need to know my business.”

  “Sounds like no one needs to know your business.”

  “Only you, darling,” he says in a cold, dry voice.

  “You know, you don’t have to do this. You’re acting like a teenage prick, or maybe even a little bipolar, like my mother. Just because you don’t have the balls to stand up to my father doesn’t mean you…” Cove smacks me across the face with the back of his hand before I can finish. It’s not hard, and he catches his mistake mid-swing. His face is crushed by his action and he turns away, unable to look at me in absolute embarrassment.

  “Cove!” Leondra yells. “How dare you hit a woman, I didn’t raise you this way.”

  “No, you didn’t. Paul Jameson did,” he whispers with his back to us. “I’m a complete asshole.”

  Leondra hugs me. “I’m so sorry, Sophia,” she says. I break away from her and run toward the bastard. He turns and holds his hand out, stopping me before I can get close.

  “I’m sorry, but what do you want me to do, fuck you right now, Sophia? Right here in my mother’s home? And then what, we live together and everything is fine for the rest of our lives? Do you want to lose Mera forever? Because that’s what will happen if I step forward and continue what we started. Oh yeah, and then there’s my father. You did hear me when I told you what happened to him. Is screwing around with a woman more important to me than his life? What do you think? Come on, let’s just fuck and get it over with so everyone’s life is over.”

  “Cove, please don’t do this to yourself, or to Sophia. You feel trapped and confused,” Leondra pleads.

  I walk up to him, ignoring the fact that his mother is in the room with us. I slam my knee as hard as I can into his balls, bringing him to the floor in excruciating pain. I lean down next to him and whisper in his ear, “You’re treating me the way you want to treat my father. Don’t punish me because of him.” I walk past Leondra and out of the room. She doesn’t move or say a word, and I don’t know if it’s because she believes he deserved it, or she’s horrified by my actions.

  I walk down the stairs and back to the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind me. “Asshole.”

  Opening my suitcase, I take out a white tank, freeing myself of Cove’s shirt. I hear two sets of footsteps come down the stairs, one faster than the other. I pull on my tank and there’s a knock. Leondra lets herself in without waiting for my response.

  “I need you downstairs in the living room. We need to talk, now.”

  It’s the first time I’ve heard her sound demanding in any way, and I’m right behind her as she descends the stairs. Cove is already sitting on one of the blue couches, slightly bent over in pain.

  “Sit on the couch, Sophia,” she strains, walking over to the refrigerator, filling a cup with ice before dumping it into a linen hand towel. She comes within reach of her son and drops the bundled towel onto his pants. He grimaces, keeping his legs closed as the ice pack sits in his crotch. I take a seat on the sofa next to the one he’s sitting on, and she sits across from us.

  “I want you both to know that I’m going to the prison to visit my husband.”

  “When?” he asks.

  “Now. He’s out of surgery for his spleen, and they’re letting me see him at ten.”

  “What’s going on? That’s unusual. We both know that the visitation time for the infirmary ends at nine each night. Is it that serious?”

  “Everything is fine. The physician has cleared him, and I’m allowed to check in, but only for thirty minutes.”

  “I don’t believe you. They would never allow us to see him in the past when this occurred.”

  “Cove, look at me,” she says, staring directly into his eyes. “Your father is badly hurt, but he’s going to be fine. Yes, this is unusual, but not unheard of. We missed the normal hours because of the surgery. I can see him now, but not for
long. I need you to calm down and listen very carefully to me. You’re staying here.”

  “Absolutely not. I need to see him.”

  “Cove, you’re staying here. You need to talk to Sophia before you leave.”

  “So you’re really doing this?” I ask. “You’re going to Vegas to speak to my father?”

  “Speak? Probably not,” he snarls. “He’ll either have me on the ground as I beg for forgiveness and my life, or I’ll finally have my chance.”

  “Chance for what? Do you think beating him up will change anything?”

  “I didn’t say I was…”

  “Cove!” Leondra shouts, cutting him off before she turns and stares at me. “And Sophia, both of you stop arguing, now. I’m furious as to what I just witnessed upstairs. This ends here. I’m allowing you to go to Vegas to speak to Paul, and that’s it. No more fighting. I don’t want my son in the hospital, or in jail. I can’t lose both you and your father. You’re staying here to talk to Sophia, and I’ll be back to speak with you about your trip. You know what you need to do.”

  He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. I can see his heart pound against his chest, moving the NOVA tattoo with each beat. He places his hand over it, covering the tat as if he can read my mind. Leondra stands and pulls his hand away. She places her free hand on the side of his face and kisses his forehead.

  “I need you to move forward. It’s possible for you to have a normal life. Don’t fight against it, fight for it. Think about that while I’m gone.” She takes her iPad from the coffee table as Cove looks at her. She holds it up and he nods. Leondra places the iPad into her purse while she walks to her foyer. She turns back to make a final comment, before leaving her home.