Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (21 page)

The two men
barked and snapped, their faces matching masks of antagonism.  Nina stood
up from her chair, fighting back tears, flitting around the kitchen like a leaf
blown in the wind.  The building irritation that Ava had felt all day was
real and violent.  Surging to her feet, she pounded her fists on the
table, making the glasses and plates jump.

Everyone
swivelled to look at her.

“Oh for god’s
sake people, SHUT UP!” she roared.  When Frank opened his mouth, she
turned on him.  “ALL OF YOU!” she bellowed.  “I’ve had ENOUGH of this
shit!”

Ava didn’t do it
often, but when she needed to, she was really damn good at channelling
Shay. 
This
was
one of those times.
The fury in her words
brooked no question.  Without pause, she launched back in on them, her
hands slicing through the air.

“I don’t know
WHAT the hell was going on, but I AM DONE.  Go to counselling if you
want!  Talk to a fucking psychologist if that helps!  But stop trying
to
KILL
each other
by degrees!” 

She tossed her
napkin down into her half-full plate, noticing that Frank’s face was ashen, and
that Cole’s mouth hung open in horror.  She shook her head in disgust,
voice lowering.

“Now I don’t
know the whole story behind this...” she swirled her fingers in the air, trying
to think of a word bad enough to describe it, “family bullshit.  But I can
tell you this.  I am NOT gonna just sit around and get caught in the
crossfire.  Life’s too fucking
short
for this!
”
 

She turned to
Nina, who stood a few steps away, hands over her mouth again.

“Nina,” she said
tightly, “thanks for supper.  You want to chill later, I’ll be in my
room.”

With that, she
stormed out of the kitchen, leaving them all behind.

For a long
moment, the room was unnaturally silent.  From the side came a quiet
giggle, and both men’s eyes jumped to Nina.  She still had her hands over
her mouth and was starting to shake, her body jiggling.  Cole and his
father watched in fascination as Nina finally dropped her hands, letting
laughter spill out into the kitchen.

When she was
finally able to talk, she glanced over to both of them, wiping away happy
tears.

“Well, I don’t
know about you, Frank, but I think Ava’s great.”

Ava waited for
Cole to join her in the suite, but he never did.  She tiptoed down to the
kitchen almost two hours later, hungry from skipping the second half of her
meal.  Nina was puttering around with the dishwasher, but she stopped as
Ava approached, stepping away from the counter and giving the younger woman a
warm hug. 

“You’re good for
Cole,” she said without explanation. 

Ava
blushed.  That demonstration at the table wasn’t perhaps the best example
of her behaviour and she wasn’t sure how to take the compliment.

“Uh... thanks,”
she muttered in embarrassment.  “Actually... have you seen Cole?  I
was wondering where he went.”

Nina smiled,
going back to the dishes. 

“He said he was
going for a walk after supper.” 

Ava’s eyes
flickered up, worried.

“But...”

“He always does
that when he’s upset,” Nina explained.  “As long as I’ve known him,
anyway.”

Ava frowned,
wondering why Cole hadn’t come talk to her or ask her to come along.  It
struck her that he might be angry at her for interfering, and that made her
furious with him for being irritated with
her
.  The circle went round
and round in her mind, leaving her seething.  The entire weekend felt like
trying to cross a minefield without a map.

“Uh… do you mind
if I grab a bit to eat?”  Ava asked sheepishly.  “I should’ve eaten
more but...”

Nina nodded,
smiling kindly. 

“Give me a
minute and I’ll put together a warm plate for you,” she offered.  “I’m
just filling the dishwasher now.  If you want to go watch TV or grab a
book or something, it’ll give me enough time to get it together.”

Ava nodded.

“Thanks, Nina,”
she said quietly.  “You’re really great.  Seriously.”

Cole’s
stepmother grinned and reached out to hug Ava again.  When she pulled
back, her eyes were twinkling.

“You too,” she
said with a laugh, “it’s nice not to be the only one standing between them
anymore.”

  : : : : :
: : : : :

Ava wandered
through the  house, gathering small details like trinkets as she
went.  She glanced at the family heirlooms on display: antique furniture,
framed awards, a model ship in a dusty bottle, prints and photographs. 
There were pictures of the children in almost every room, happy and
energetic.  Hanna and Cole, their dark and light heads together as they
grinned out at Ava from years before.  The two of them so young and full
of life.

It made her sad
to see them.

Reaching the
living room, Ava heard a low noise.  There was a single light on by the
desk, casting a glow in the corner, a faint blue glow at the side. 
Someone, Ava realized, had left the television on.  She could hear the
buzz of static.  She was several steps inside when someone behind her
spoke.

“Tell me what
you hear.”

She jumped at
the sound of Frank’s voice.  He was in a deep armchair, hidden in shadows,
watching a television that looked – to Ava’s eyes– to be black.

She blinked,
wondering what to say.

“Nothing…?” she
answered cautiously, wondering if she should leave the room.  She didn’t
trust Cole’s father.  She sensed he was...
explosive
.

He glanced up
from his berth in the chair and she could see deep sadness etched around his
sunken eyes.  He held a glass of amber liquid, swirling it around the
bottom.

“You sure about
that?” he muttered.  He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long
swallow.  “Listen again...”

She lowered
herself onto a chair nearby, and leaned forward in concentration.  There
had been many times over the years when Oliver had honed in on some small sound
that he wanted to capture in his music.  Birds in the trees, the
repetitive thrum of brakes under their car, a distant train’s plaintive whistle
lost in the night air.

‘Perhaps,
’ Ava thought,
‘Mr.
Thomas is doing that now...
’

The television
made a steady buzz, like heavy static, but as she stared at it, a flash of
lighting appeared, followed by a delayed crackle of thunder.

“It’s rain...”
Ava said with a happy laugh.  She’d figured it out, found the answer he
was looking for.

Thomas chuckled
sadly, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

“No, Ava,” he
grumbled.  “Listen
harder...
”

The rasping
quality of his voice made the hair on her arms rise.  Frank tipped his head
back, letting it fall against the headrest.  He was somewhere else
now...   Pulled forward by a sense of gravity, she closed her eyes
and tried to separate the buzz of rainfall into its elemental pieces. 
There was something going on here...  something
more.
  There
was the patter of rain.  The crackle of approaching thunder.  The
faint sound of someone moving near the camera, feet shuffling. Distantly –
barely audible under the rush of the rain – there were voices. 

Two of
them. 

Ava’s eyes
fluttered open in surprise.

“Children,” she
answered in a hushed voice, afraid to break whatever strange truce had
developed between them.  “Hanna and Cole.”

Thomas smiled
mournfully. 

“Yes,” he
answered, voice breaking.  “The two of them, a long time ago.”

Ava opened her
mouth and closed it again, uncertainly. 

“There was a
storm that summer...” Frank began, “we get amazing storms here at the house
sometimes. Hanna wanted to catch the lightning on film so she borrowed a video
camera from a friend of hers…”

His voice was
wavering, old tears hidden just under the surface.  It made her pause and
settle down into the chair’s embrace.

“We didn’t have
one.  Wish we had now, but we didn’t.  She set it up to catch the
storm.  The two of them – Hanna and Cole – waited in the room
... this
exact room
... just talking while they watched the storm blow in off the
sea.”

For a moment,
Ava’s eyes flickered to the black television, discerning the edge of a window
frame in one corner.  This was videotaped out the window of this room,
years earlier.

“If you listen,”
Frank said gruffly, “you can hear them talking.  The two of them loved
each other, you know.  Closer than most brothers and sisters. 
Hanna’s telling stories for a while... and then Cole… he speaks too. 
They’re both so young...
and happy
.”  His voice disappeared into a
strangled sob, and Ava swallowed hard, feeling despair and loss pressing
down.  “It’s the only...” Frank’s voice broke, “only recording I have of
either one of them.”

Cole’s father
lifted his head, his face falling into his hands, and began to cry. 
Pushed forward by his sobs and the sounds of children hidden in the
falling  rain, Ava crouched at Frank’s side, putting her hand lightly on
his knee. She flashed to a difficult memory of her own father, crying in the
dark, just like this.
‘I’m so sorry, Kiddo, I didn’t know…’ 
An
impenetrable layer of sorrow had wrapped the room, transmitted back to them
through the two almost-inaudible children's voices.  Cole’s father didn’t
react to her presence, just continued weeping, wrinkled features hidden in his
hands.

“I’m so sorry,”
Ava said softly.  “I wish... I wish I’d had a chance to know her.” 

Reaching over to
the side table, she pulled several tissues out and set them onto his lap. She continued
to talk in a low, soothing voice while he cried, not sure what else to do or
say.  Around them, the recorded sound of rain filled the room with a
rising hiss.

“Cole speaks
really highly of Hanna, you know?” Ava said, feeling the need to share something
now that Frank had.  She wasn’t even sure he was listening, but she
continued anyway.  “He… he told me what a good sister she was... How she
did so much for the family... That everybody loved her.  Cole certainly
did.  He loves Hanna even now.” 

For some reason
Ava’s voice was rough-edged, her throat painful.  She knew what she was
saying weren’t just empty words.  This felt too
real.
  Frank
lifted his face, expression tortured.

“Cole
talked
to you
about Hanna?”

Ava frowned in
confusion.

“Of course he
did... Why?”

For a second,
the man’s face shimmered with frustration, then misery settled back down in its
place.

“There was a
time,” he said quietly,  “when Cole and I said some things. We had a
terrible, terrible argument, and I just didn’t know...”

He took a slow
breath and Ava could sense him pulling himself together.  Building the
walls back up again.  For a brief moment she considered
not
saying
it, but the memory of her own father –  lost in misery – flickered like
the flash of lightning she'd seen on the screen, and then the words were
already out.

“Is that why you
blame him for his mother’s death?”

Thomas took a
sharp breath.

“Why,
what!?”

Ava sat up,
moving back to her own chair, putting the space between them. 
‘Careful
now…’
her mind whispered.  Frank was watching her, hands curled like
claws around the armrests, his body rigid.  She bit her lip before saying
it.

“Cole told me
that you blame him for not finding Angela in time.”

Frank’s face
warred with a myriad of emotions.  They rippled like a storm over the sea,
shifting one way and then the other before settling into bone-deep pain.

“My god,” he
cried, “no.  NO!  I don’t... I never...”  He stopped altogether,
staring at Ava, aghast.  “There was a terrible fight at Angela’s funeral,”
he cried.  “Cole told me that his mother had never gotten over Hanna’s
death... He was angry and yelling at me for… for my part in that... and I may
have...”  He dropped his chin, breathing hard.  “Oh Jesus,” he
whispered.  “What’ve I done?”

Ava was shaking,
this new facet of the story bringing a hint of light to the darkness between
them.

“It’s too late
to change what you did
then
,”
she said carefully, “but you’ve got
to talk to him
now
.”

The cab dropped
Cole off just after midnight.  The main house was now completely dark
except for the bright Christmas lights, but the guest suite windows still
glowed. 
‘Ava’s awake.’
  He stood in the cold, wintry air,
shocked to see her black truck parked outside the wide doors.  Cole
figured she would’ve left right after the awful supper.  In fact, he’d
been reasonably sure she had been headed back to the room to pack when she’d
stood up from the supper table.