Intaglio Dragons All The Way Down

chapter 15: Wednesday’s Child is full of Woe



February flew by even faster than its shortened calendar length would suggest. It wasn’t long before Cole and Ava left Oliver at the airport, the two of them driving back to the city in the late-night lull of traffic. Ava drove the truck while Cole flipped through the radio stations. Neither was really talking; exhaustion had taken its toll. Instead, they sifted through the fractured channels of late-night talk radio, watching as the distant lights of the city began to near.

The green signs announcing the different multi-lane overpasses began to glow in the truck’s headlamps. Catching sight of them, Ava aimed toward home. Cole would be sleeping in his dorm tonight; they had classes tomorrow morning, and they were both exhausted. (Both of them knew what would happen if he stayed at her place.) There was no rush now that her father was away on tour again, and both of them knew Cole would be spending more nights at her apartment than ever. For the first time since her father had said goodbye an hour earlier, she smiled. She was going to miss Oliver terribly, of course, but she liked having the apartment to herself.

Seeing the signs for the main thoroughfare toward the Eastern side of the city's downtown core, Ava moved to the far left lane. Space between the streetlights shortened as they neared the industrial area. Her mind, as she drove, was on her father. Oliver never had read Cole’s teacup, though he’d offered twice. True to his word, Cole did talk about the dreams. Her father’s take on the difference of the ending was simply that things changed... they were always changing. Things from the present were just as likely to change the past as the other way around. Her father’s interpretation was that she and Cole’s connection now was the deciding factor. Ava liked that explanation, though she selfishly wished that she’d been the one walking away with Cole, rather than his sister.

Cole might not have agreed with him, but they discussed it at length. (Ever the devil’s advocate, Oliver argued that Cole’s refusal to have a teacup read meant he was actually an agnostic, rather than atheist and Cole, undaunted, laughed it off.) Ava loved watching the two of them: Cole and her father had developed an easy-going relationship built on respect. The three of them had spent several afternoons together in ‘their’ coffee shop, arguing about books they’d read, ideas they had about life, and (of course) dreams.

Ava’s eyes flickered to Cole where he sat next to her on the bench seat, his fingers tapping along to a remixed song on the radio, eyelids heavy. She was glad that he was here now. It was always hard, but she’d never felt her father’s leaving with as much poignancy as she did this time. It could have been because university was ending, and at some point, she would be making choices about the next year. Or it could have been because this had been an amazing visit. Either way it hurt.

She followed the paths of the streets, heading back to the university and Cole’s dorm, finally pulling into the lot. He kissed her hard – leaving her body throbbing with desire – and Ava reminded herself what a good idea it had been to drive him straight home. Neither one would have slept otherwise. She needed to go to the printing studio before class tomorrow to try to get ahead on the prints. She already had five of the ten completed – two dry point and three etchings – but true to Giulia’s description of the project, the multi-print plates were hard to work with. There were several deeply-gouged lines from Ava’s first inexperienced prints that had been fighting her attempts to remove them. Tomorrow she was going to switch to the mezzotint rocker and blacken the entire plate.

Once Cole was inside his dorm, (after a discussion of why he should be staying with her after all), she drove home through silent streets. It was after midnight; the apartment building and the hallway leading up seemed particularly barren. Reaching the door to the apartment, Ava’s eyes drifted to the end of the hall and the fire escape. The gouged brick was sitting inside, door closed tight.

It made her sad.

She fought to get the keys in the lock, finally pushing the door open with her hip and stepping into the sunken foyer. It felt lonely, as if her father had taken ‘home’ with him when he’d gone. The decision to leave Cole behind at his dorm nagged at her. Sighing, Ava shrugged off her jacket and headed down the stairs, pausing as a pulsing blue light caught her gaze.

There was a single message flashing on her machine.

With an unexplained feeling of dread, Ava pressed the button. There was a high-pitched beep and a voice echoed on the other end of the line.

: : : : : : : : : :

Cole wasn’t sure when he first noticed the difference, but sometime during the start of March, Ava became quiet and withdrawn. There were several times when he found her staring out the window during class, gone to the world. She jumped when he touched her, bringing her back to the present. He asked her about it, but she claimed that she was overwhelmed with her classes. Just had a lot on her mind, and that she missed her dad. Cole accepted that.

It made sense in the beginning.

It wasn’t big things at first, just an ever-growing series of small alterations to her schedule that added up to something bigger. Cole was concerned in a way he couldn’t explain. Like how she never usually smoked pot, but now, she almost always followed Chim out the back door of The Crown to toke up. How she claimed to be painting almost every night in her studio, but didn’t want to share the images with him. That he didn’t even know for sure that she was painting at all... because sometimes he drove by and the lights of the studio were all off.

These were the nights she wouldn’t answer her phone. There were other things too. Like the way she rolled away from him after they made love, curling into a ball and falling into restless slumber.

Those kind of things.

It didn’t seem to be school-related. Besides the printing project that was driving both of them crazy, Ava seemed to be doing fine. Cole’s life had developed a stability it hadn’t had in years. Nina’s continuing attempts to encourage Cole and Frank to spend time together were paying off, and she and Ava had become close during their weekends together. Even the tension in the Thomas household didn’t really seem to be much of an issue. Frank and Cole had taken definite steps toward reciprocation. It was a very slow process and there had been another blow up in the meantime. But they were starting to talk.

It was just Ava.

: : : : : : : : : :

He caught up to her as she was hoisting an overnight bag into the passenger seat of her truck. She was dressed in nicer clothing than usual: black slacks and a grey sweater. Her hair was curled, and she wore a smudge of makeup, though her face was wan, dark circles under reddened eyes. It was the clothing that tipped him off: the lack of jeans and leather jacket were a glaring red flag. Cole scowled as he approached, his hand closing the open door with a bang as he reached her truck. Ava jumped at the sound, blanching as she saw him.

“Is it Kip?” he asked, face furious.

There was no preamble. The two of them had danced around this long enough. Her last-minute cancellation of this weekend’s trip to Frank and Nina’s after doing exactly the same thing the previous weekend had been the final clue. Cole might be in love, but he was not stupid, and he knew he’d seen her truck headed out to the Coast the previous Saturday.

She was having an affair.

“Wh-what?” Ava asked, stepping back slightly. Cole followed, pressing into her space.

“You cancelled... again. I know what’s going on. You’re screwing around behind my back.”

She blinked, eyes glancing to the side and then back to him, confused.

“I’m… I’m not,” she said, voice breaking, “I just... I had something to do. I had a meeting about the National Galle—”

Cole laughed bitterly.

“That was the excuse last weekend, Ava! Get your f*cking story straight!”

She gaped, her mouth opening, then closing like a fish out of water.

“There’s nothing going on, Cole,” she gasped, voice barely controlled.

“You’re lying!”

She shook her head wordlessly. He stepped forward, a disgusted sneer twisting his face into a harder version of himself. A meaner version...

“Tell me, Ava,” he hissed. “Do you think about him when we’re together?”

For a moment he thought she was going to slap him, because her hand pulled back, but just as quickly, she dropped it, holding it in a fist at her side.

“How dare you!” she spat, breathing hard. “You jealous bast—”

“It IS him, isn’t it!” Cole barked, stepping closer.

His hand snaked out, grabbing her wrist in a steely grip. He knew he should walk away, but his calm voice wasn't winning. His chest was filled with the destructive power of a storm about to break.

“No!” she yelped, tugging away. She could have been talking about Kip, or perhaps she was angry about him manhandling her. Cole didn’t know and didn’t care.

“Yes,” he growled, “it is Kip, isn’t it?!”

“F*ck you.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, stance widening. Cole laughed harshly, dragging her toward him, but she twisted in his grip and freed her arm. She’d tightened her fists until her knuckles were white.

“I saw you leaving the city last weekend!” Cole shouted. “Saw you, Ava!”

He turned away for a moment, because he was fighting the urge to slap her, and that he wouldn’t do.

“You… You followed me?” she cried. Her eyes were wide, hurt. “How DARE you!”

She took another step backward, and the movement angered him more than was rational. His jaw clamped shut, the next words coming out in a hiss.

“I was out biking along the coast and I saw you, Ava! I f*cking SAW you leaving town!” He laughed coldly. “Wrong direction if you were going to the National Gallery.”

That gave her pause. She glanced down, brow furrowed. After a moment she looked up.

“I was out of town but I wasn’t with Kip...” Her voice shook, face flushed with pain or anger. Cole was so incensed he couldn’t tell.

“Kip Chambers has a place up the coast,” Cole sneered. “I know that!”

She took another step away from him.

“I had to deal with some unexpected things. A family emergen—”

“You’re LYING!” he snarled.

That stopped her.

“F*ck YOU, Cole!” she bellowed. “You don’t know a goddamn THING about what’s going on with me!”

Her voice was quaking and Cole pushed, wanting to be in her face. Needing her to know how much this hurt him! But the second he moved, she turned to walk away, and resistance was shredded under the riptide of his rage.

“No, f*ck YOU, Ava!” His hand grabbed for her shoulder, spinning her around. “’Cause I know Kip Chambers has always had a thing for you and I—”

He saw her throw the punch and he had time to deflect most of the blow, but she still grazed his cheek. For a moment he was caught up in the sheer horror of what was happening: the two of them in a fight in the parking lot of her apartment. He stepped back, eyes widening.

“Don’t you EVER f*cking touch me again!” she screamed, her body shaking with pent-up emotion. Tears ran down her face, the sight of them shocking Cole into silence. She took a sobbing breath, pushing past him to the door of her truck. “I had to DEAL with things, alright! I DON’T have to explain ANYTHING to you!”

She was inside the cab seconds later, the door slamming shut. Cole watched, unable to answer; she pulled out of the lot, the tires spinning shards of gravel up behind her.

Gone.

: : : : : : : : : :

Cole didn’t see her for the rest of the weekend, and he was glad.

She wasn’t in class on Monday either. That made it easier.

Tuesday she was still missing.

On Wednesday afternoon, Professor Wilkins popped by the Printmaking class to ask Cole if he’d seen Ava. She hadn’t been in class for a couple of days, and he wanted to know if she was interested in applying for a graduate curatorial program next year. He was so impressed by the way she considered art, he thought her unique spin on artists’ work could be a real asset to her in a career as a curator. Wilkins left a flyer for Cole and asked that he get Ava to contact him.

That night Cole was concerned enough to go by her apartment and check, but there was no answer. Her truck wasn’t in the lot. At that point, Cole went to find Chim.

She wasn’t at the studio – hadn’t been all week, it turned out – and Chim’s anxiety caused Cole’s fear to skyrocket. Suddenly he was admitting to the whole argument and his accusations. Marcus listened, hand on Cole’s shoulder, assuring him she was probably okay, then immediately suggesting they start calling their friends while they checked out Ava’s usual haunts. Suzanne was the first one who showed up to help them search. They were an hour into the process when they got their first lead.

Talking to the Crown’s bartender, a heavy-set man named Mike, the trio discovered that Ava had been at bar yesterday afternoon. She’d been drinking heavily, refusing to talk. Mike gestured to one of the waitresses doing rounds. In minutes, the young woman was describing the incident, while the three of them stood listening. The waitress had just gotten to the part where Ava told her to put the bill onto her tab, when Cole’s phone began to ring. He stepped to the side, glancing down at the number. It was the police station.

Cole took the call, his voice abnormally calm when he said hello.

“Hi there...” a chipper young woman said. Not Ava then. “Is this Cole Thomas?”

For a moment, a horrible image of Ava dead somewhere flashed into Cole’s mind. It was the image from his dream, her eyes wide and black. Body broken.

“Yes...” he managed to force out. He couldn’t go any further. At the table, Chim straightened up as he caught Cole’s tone.

“Cole,” the caller said, tone businesslike and practical, “this is Lieutenant Elizabeth Alvarez calling from the fourteenth precinct police station. I’m contacting you in regards to Miss Ava Brooks...”