by Danika Stone
It was the kind of kitchen that family sitcoms were filmed in, only Ava was starting to realize that it was all a facade. This was a family that never laughed. ‘The house is an empty shell,’ she thought. ‘Just a frame of a picture that’s already been destroyed.’ The idea disturbed her.
Nina Thomas didn’t require answers while she chattered. She dropped random bits of information--the news, the weather, her family recipes--in short, disjointed phrases as she pulled things out of the cupboard. Uninvolved in the one-way conversation, Ava watched as the older woman worked. She poured coffee beans into the grinder, then jumped as they were crushed into grounds. Her nervous energy imbued the whole room with anxiety.
Ava cleared her throat and the older woman glanced up.
“Is Cole’s fa— ...is the Sergeant Major always like that?”
Nina paused, pulling heavy white mugs from the cupboard. She turned toward Ava, her eyes worried.
“Not always...” she replied haltingly. “Not even most the time. It’s only with...”
There was an uneasy break in the conversation, as if she was afraid she’d already said too much.
“Cole?” Ava prompted.
“Yes.”
Ava stared out the window at the glittering Christmas lights and the wintry postcard scene, finally dragging her eyes through the facade of the perfect family kitchen, back to Nina.
“Look, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Ava.”
Leaving the mugs, Cole’s stepmother walked over to the counter, tension slowly easing from her face.
“Why did you bother inviting me here?”Ava asked, tipping her head. As unpleasant as it was, Ava felt driven to know the answer. “I mean I’ve been here for, what...?” She glanced at the clock above the door. “Twenty minutes? I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in someone’s house before in my life.”
That, of course, wasn’t entirely true, but Ava didn’t want to launch into a dissertation on her mother. For a second, Nina Thomas stood frozen and unmoving. Then something seemed to shift in the balance and she shrunk visibly, her shoulders curling inward.
“Oh Lord...” she cried, face crumpling like wet tissue paper, “I’m so very sorry, dear... I shouldn’t have... I....” Her words disappeared as she fingers pressed against her lips. “Oh, what have I done?”
“Whoa – hey now, no big deal!” Ava yelped, eyes widening in concern. “I just want to know why I’m supposed to be here. I mean I kind of thought Cole wanted me to… um...” The words faded uneasily. She felt embarrassed and exposed, her relationship with Cole suddenly on display. “I um… I just thought he wanted me to meet you guys. But things are just.... different than I expected.”
Nina reached out, patting Ava’s hand. She smiled again, though her lips trembled.
“Oh, honey, I’m certain Cole does want you to meet us, and for us to like you.” She sniffled loudly, brushing her hands over her hair, standing taller. “And I certainly do.” (Ava couldn’t help but notice Frank Thomas wasn’t included in that description.) “But Cole finds family gatherings... difficult... He has as long as I’ve known him, and he...”
Nina stopped, fiddling with things on the counter. She picked up a dishtowel and kept pressing the folds of it again and again.
“Yes?”
Nina sighed, looking at Ava wearily.
“Cole also knows exactly what to do and say to push his father away. I’m certain the fact that you’re an artist – and a graffiti artist at that – was part of his decision to bring you. He mentioned your colourful past to us for a reason.” She shook her head sadly. “He was getting ready for this fight long before you arrived.”
Ava took a sharp breath, her annoyance with Cole rising. Conscious or not, he had been pulling her into this dysfunction. Planning it.
“Well, that’s fucking great,” Ava snarled, then suddenly realized what she’d said. Her eyes darted up to Nina, wide and worried. “Sorry – shit! – I’ll try not to swear, but I can’t promise anything... I have an awful mouth sometimes.”
She blushed furiously, but Nina giggled.
“Yes, Ava, you do,” she chortled. “But you’re also honest and brave and…. I like that.”
The tension broke. The two women sat and talked, a small spark of family lighting between them, filling the space with much-needed laughter.
: : : : : : : : : :
Nina eventually took Ava to the room she’d set up for her and Cole. The guest house was the official title, though really it was just a private suite above the garage – separate from the rest of the house. Ava’s eyes widened upon seeing it. Though smaller, the rooms were decorated more expensively than her apartment. Oil paintings of sea and surf covered the walls, a jetted tub filled one corner of the large bathroom, and in the combined bedroom / sitting room, there was a fireplace and a flat-screen television. All of it rang of fine craftsmanship and wealth, leaving Ava acutely aware that Cole came from money.
Dinner was held in the kitchen rather than the dining room. Nina ordered everything in; sushi and appetizers, several bottles of wine, and numerous boxes of food cluttered the counter. It felt like a casual dinner party. Nina fluttered around, checking on everyone, seemingly at ease once more. Ava decided that she liked Cole’s stepmother. The woman was a bundle of energy, with quick laughter and a story for everything. In fact, Ava decided if she could just spend the entire weekend with Nina Thomas, she might actually survive it.
Cole, on the other hand, hadn’t been seen since the argument in the den. Nina leaned around the carved banister to shout up to him.
“Don’t make me come up and get you, young man!”
Ava chuckled.
Nina headed back into the kitchen, leaning in to Frank as she passed.
“I think he’s in Hanna’s room again,” she said quietly.
Ava’s laughter abruptly stopped.
In the kitchen, Cole’s father nodded and continued to pull plates from the cupboard. The earlier sadness took on a stronger tang, ghosts of the past flitting through the room. Hanna – a young woman Ava now recognized from the photos lining the walls – whispered to her from the wallpaper. Her shadow moving around the empty frames. Ava watched Cole’s father set the table with a lump in her throat: Frank’s grief for the loss of his daughter was palpable.
A few minutes later, Cole came down the stairs, face cold and distant. He sat next to Ava at the kitchen table, eating in a daze, speaking when spoken to. His father sat in stony silence, hands fisted beside his plate, glaring when Ava caught his eyes. She smirked, holding back the urge to stick out her tongue.
‘Fuck you,’ she thought more than once. (But she didn’t say it.) She’d had lots of practise in Wilkins’ class holding those thoughts inside.
As they started eating, Nina slid her chair closer to Ava and the two of them restarted their discussion from earlier. Nina’s journalistic past was surprisingly eventful. Seeing them talking, Frank’s scowl darkened. Cole, sitting next to him, was now his only option for conversation.
In minutes, Ava and Nina were deep in dialogue. Nina was particularly adamant about the need for government funding for the Arts. Ava liked that about her. Cole’s stepmother was a bit of a renegade, and had supported several protests in the capital during the previous election. Ava thought of Suzanne and Marcus... they’d get along with Nina. The two women were so engrossed that they hardly heard the argument brewing. Vague mutterings, like the rumble of distant thunder, were the first hint. Ava was telling a story about her father when Frank barked loudly, silencing them all.
“... and if you think goofing around at some art school was the start of any REAL kind of career, then you’re more of a fool than I thought!”
“Frank!” Nina gasped, “you promised!” She dropped her fork with a clatter, her face blanching.
Neither man seemed to notice.
“I’m not FOOLING AROUND with anything!” Cole snapped. “I took a year off to get my portfolio ready, and I
got a full scholarship so—”
“Which you wouldn’t have NEEDED if you’d gone into the Forces!” Frank grunted.
Cole’s jaw was clenched tight, his hand clutching the edge of the table.
“Military worked for you,” he snarled. “But it’d never work for me.”
“How the hell can you judge that when you never even TRIED!”
Ava's body tensed as her gaze skittered between father and son. Anger boiled under the surface of the conversation, and she was horrified to see them explode. Ava thought she saw the hint of a smile tug Cole’s mouth, and she was absolutely certain he was going to do something stupid.
She was almost right.
“Well, Hanna gave the military a try, and look what that got HER!” Cole shouted.
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.”
Chapter 23: Storm on the Horizon
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.”
Th
omas 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.”
