Piano in the Dark (13 page)

“You bastard!” Dawn yelled.

“No—wait—I—”

There was no forgiveness felt in the vicious slap my wife delivered across my face.

I blinked my tear-filled eyes, jaw smarting from what felt more like a fist than an open hand. “Baby, wait,” I called out to Dawn as she left my side, fleeing the gallery and the embarrassment it had to represent. To think, she was so happy when this evening began. Now my irrational actions had finally taken their toll.

I took a final look back at the painting, knowing I never posed for it. Was it another part of Ava’s trap for me tonight? Did she intend on Dawn seeing it? Did Dawn even know what had just occurred out back with Ava and me?

Didn’t matter.

All was damaged, never to be put back together again.

Ava abandoned her circle of people and ran over, impeding my path to my wife.

“Chase—I—”

“Move!” I screamed, having zero appreciation at the moment for the conflicting emotions she elicited from me. The ring on my hand bound me to another, no matter what fantastic, arousing tales Ava could conjure. With that same hand, I shoved her aside. There was only one Mrs. Hidalgo and she’d just walked out on me.

“Now see here,” Smith crowed as he came to his friend’s aid with fists raised. I had no intention of physically harming Ava, but he couldn’t know that. Especially with how I’d yanked her away earlier. I quickly backslapped him, sending him wobbling. His ridiculousl red scarf came unraveled. Gasps rang out in the gallery.

“You believe her shit? None of this is real, dude. None of it,” I yelled at Smith while motioning at the works of Charla Nuttier all around us. I chuckled out of frustration, way past being simply
on edge
. “This stuff doesn’t exist…never happened. What’s real is my wife out there. Now get the fuck out of my way.”

Smith complied, reaching for Ava, whom he embraced and began rubbing her back. A fleeting glance at the wounded Ava and I ran off in search of Dawn. The last thing I heard was someone asking if the police were needed.

My wife was standing near the valet stand, talking rapidly into a cell phone. When she saw me, she turned her back and said something to the valet. The tanned dude immediately looked in my direction, glaring at me. Now I had to go through this.

I took a circuitous route, wishing Dawn would acknowledge me. I raised my hands, palms out like some hostage negotiator approaching a loaded weapon.

“Chase, stay back,” she said, trying to maintain some decorum in front of folk.

“C’mon. Let me take you home, baby,” I said as I reached out. Mere inches from my touch, she retreated. The valet to whom she’d whispered a second ago uttered something to the rest of his crew in Spanish too rapid for me to
comprende
.

“You sure you don’t want to go home with your mistress?” she taunted, handing back the phone to the valet attendant.

“Dawn, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she responded. “First, she flirts with you in my face. Then I see how she was just looking at you. My momma didn’t raise a fool. When did you pose for the painting, Chase? Huh? One of those nights you were working late on a big case?”

“That—that’s not me in that painting. All of this is blown out of proportion.”

Dawn chuckled. “You’re an awful liar. Jacobi didn’t teach you how to all these years? I mean…you’re his flunky, his protégé…his stooge. How long have I been a fool?”

I bowed my head, contrition before confrontation. “Dawn…please,” I begged.

“Go to hell!” she lashed out.

I reacted to a shrill whistle that came from the driveway. A yellow minivan taxicab had arrived. The head attendant, without leaving Dawn’s side at his post, waved his hand for it to pull up.

“Sir, I need you to clear the driveway,” he instructed as I heard the taxi’s engine rev. I remained in place, fearing I might never see my wife again if I let her leave like this. Three more valet attendants joined their supervisor, forming a loose wall between me and her. With the taxi unable to proceed without running me over, they pivoted to allow Dawn to walk by and go to the car, while keeping me at bay.

“Dawn, c’mon! Let’s go somewhere and talk,” I threw out. When the sliding door was opened for her, I tried lunging past her human wall, but was shoved back. A brawl certainly wouldn’t help my case.

“Sir, please step back,” one of them said.

“Fuck you!” I spit. As Dawn was driven off, I produced my claim ticket from my wallet, flinging it at them. “Get me my fuckin’ car, now!”

“You need to calm down first. Have you been drinking?”

“What are you? My fuckin’ AA sponsor? There’s my ticket. Now get me my damn car.” I could see the cab put on its signal to turn onto Taft. If I hurried I might be able to follow. I removed my jacket in frustration while the lead attendant fetched my keys and handed them off to another.

As the man left quickly around back, two sets of bright headlights descended on me. As I focused beyond them, I could make out familiar red and blue lights on the rooftops twirling round and round. I looked at the lead attendant, rolling my eyes. Now he chose to smile. Asshole.

The dual Houston Police Department cruisers formed in a pincer move on me, both quickly coming to a stop. I put my hands in front of my face to shield my eyes. More patrons from inside the gallery had exited to witness the commotion. At this moment, I cared not if Ava were one of them.

“Sir, is there a problem?” one of the two officers asked. He was short and built like a fireplug. A neck was a luxury not afforded him.

“No, officer. There is no problem. I just need my car so I can leave.”

His shoulder-clipped radio chirped, to which he clicked on it and spoke in code. “We got a disturbance call with a possible assault. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“No,” I succinctly replied. The lead valet attendant walked over, speaking in whispered tones with the officer closest to me. The officer responded by giving a nod to his partner.

“Sir, I’m going to need to see some ID as well have you get down on the ground. We just need to clear this up. Can you do that for me?”

“I’m not getting on the ground like some criminal because I haven’t done anything, officer. That little guy has my keys around back and I just need my car so I can go. No problems.”

The two moved in sync so fast that I was startled. By my last syllable, guns were already drawn and fixed on me. Yep. It was going down.

And not in a good way.

“Sir, get down on the ground!”

“Aww, c’mon now—” I yelled just as triggers were pulled.

They fired away, sending high voltage through the little wires that had sought me out.

I involuntarily met the ground, losing total control of my body in the process.

I’d never been tazed before.

For the record, the shit totally sucked.

After an uncomfortable overnight stay in the Harris County jail, the judge informed me and my attorney at my side that I was free to go. The police found no weapons on me and no one from the gallery had come forward to press charges.
Fascinating
was the only word my weary mind could summon. Not what I would use to describe my current situation, but it was the sole word my troubled cell mate repeated all night—fascinating, fascinating, fascinating.

“Fuckin’ cops tazed me. What about that?” I mumbled.

“Shhh. Just be quiet and look appreciative,” Jacobi whispered through his teeth as we listened to the judge’s stern warning about my behavior and his sincere hope that he never see me in this setting again. He had reason for saying that. Judge Thomas Rowe was at TSU Law School the same time as the two of us. Another example of my failings, as Dawn would remind me.

Dawn.

While assholes argued, fought or simply kept repeating words last night, I thought of my wife. Kept seeing that damn yellow cab as it pulled off. Remembered the smell and texture of us walking into our new home for the first time. Had flashes of us feeding one another wedding cake at the reception hall in Humble. Thought of our magical wedding before it and those eternal two words: I do.

I didn’t hear a thing Jacobi said on the elevator ride down at the Harris County Criminal Courts. At least my boy’s black eye had healed. And they allowed him to return to work in spite of the Iris debacle. Things looking up for somebody, I suppose. I wondered what kind of story he’d cooked up to appease them.

“Hey. You listening?” my friend asked as we descended toward the lobby.

“Huh?” I replied.

“Knew it,” Jacobi said, allowing a chuckle to escape. “We need to get you cleaned up, man.”

“I just want to go home, shower, and get some sleep.”

“Not a good idea, bro. You know how it is with this domestic stuff. Let her cool off. Otherwise you might find yourself on Judge Rowe’s bad side next time.”

“Shit. Tommy’s never had a good side,” I responded.

Jacobi just shook his head and laughed, his eye on the floor numbers.

As we exited the elevator, someone called out to me. “Chase!” they uttered again. It was coming from the incoming line by the metal detectors and X-ray machines.

I closed my eyes for a second and centered myself, pretending it was Dawn, eager to take me back and try to work through this. I smiled, imagining my sheets, realizing how my bed would feel…especially with her beside me. But the hairs on the back of my neck spoke more loudly than my attempts at drowning out the actual voice.

“Ain’t that your stalker, man?” Jacobi asked, compelling me to open my eyes.

It was Ava.

This woman. My lover rather than my wife, concerned for my welfare. Devotion devoid of the reality set before her.

Wow. Trip.

Absent any makeup or her Charla-Nuttier-big-time-artist-veneer of last night, she was still just as stunning. Seductive simplicity mixed with sadness that was hard to look away from.

And still fucked up my head.

Made me want to do things I good ‘n well knew weren’t right despite feeling otherwise. But for even the slightest chance of fixing things with Dawn, I had to be rational.

For once.

“Keep walking, bro,” I said to Jacobi. “Just keep walking.”

We exited out the front where gloomy, overcast skies never looked so good. Free of the courthouse, I turned on my phone once more in hopes Dawn had reached out. As we took the steps to the street below, I saw Ava briskly walking out the front door in pursuit.

“Hey. Give me a minute,” I requested of Jacobi. He took one look at me, then glanced at the approaching Ava. “Won’t take long,” I reassured him.

“Seems you’re having a hard time with decisions, bro,” he offered. “Unless your mind is already made up and you haven’t come around to admitting it.” With that, he threw up his arms and continued his trek down the steps to wait on me.

I slowed for Ava to overtake me.

“Glad you’re all right,” she offered, giving me an awkward hug that I didn’t return.

“Hope I didn’t ruin your show.”

“I apologized to everyone for the misunderstanding. Said it was my fault. But I’d trade a thousand gallery shows for you, Chase. I hope you know that.”

“Why me?”

“Because it’s always been you. And always will be.”

“Again with the stuff that doesn’t make sense. Just like that damn painting that got me in trouble,” I sighed. “This is costing you a bunch of pain, Ava. And it’s not making my life much better. When I said to leave me and my family alone last night, I meant it.”

“You mean before we made love? You and I both know that was incredible last night.”

“That was lust…and misguided feelings.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Look. I’m just a man who wants to get his wife back, then work on turning the rest of his life around.”

“And I just want what I once had.”

“Well, I wish you the best with that, but I won’t be a surrogate for your deceased husband. We don’t always get what we want.”

I began descending the steps, figuring there was nothing else to say. Nothing I could say.

“Chase, I might not be around here much longer,” she blurted out. “I don’t have as much time as I’d like. So forgive me for being so pushy.”

I stopped on the landing below and eyed her again.
Manic desperation on her part?
I wondered to myself. “If you’re talking suicide or something, don’t do it. Life is too precious…no matter the circumstances. Get some help.”

In an odd display, she smiled. Softly. Serenely.

“That’s the Chase I know,” she uttered from the top of the steps before walking off and disappearing from my sight. Blaming it on the morning haze and my exhaustion, I almost could’ve sworn she’d faded away momentarily, as if a mirage.

Rubbing my eyes, I scurried the rest of the way down the stairs to catch Jacobi.

“Whoa!” Jacobi exclaimed as he drove me to retrieve my car from the gallery. I’d explained what had been happening, including what led me to being tazed and locked up.

“And that’s what you’ve missed,” I said.

“So you fucked this girl at the gallery? While Dawn was there? And now this chick Ava shows up at the courthouse to bail you out? After you sidelined her in front of everyone at the gallery to go chase your wife?” he rattled off laughingly. He went silent, digesting it for a second as we passed a group of bicyclists. “Dang. You a beast, son. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I don’t, man. This ain’t me. And you know that. I’m strong when I’m away from Ava. But when we’re around one another, I get irrational and spontaneous. It’s like something goes haywire inside me. Oh. Forgot to tell you. Maryann was there at the gallery last night.”

“Milner?” Jacobi asked, turning his music down in the Range Rover for the first time. “From the office?”

“Bingo,” I replied.

“Damn. Did she see any of this?”

“Probably. If I thought my job situation was tenuous before last night, now I’m really worried. You gotta help me, bro. Have you heard anything at the job?”

“No, nothing yet,” Jacobi replied, oddly hesitating. He turned the music back up—B.o.B.’s “Nothin’ on You” replacing Trey Songz’s boasting of
the neighbors knowing his name while inventing sex and making you say ahh from yo side of the bed
or something. As we continued down Allen Parkway, Jacobi passed the Federal Reserve Building and slowed at Taft, but realized he’d have to go a little further before making a U-turn to get to the other side of the street.

“I need to come back, man. And not just for the paycheck. I need some stability and sanity right about now. If Dawn knew I’ve been on leave, she’d really be through with me.”

“So it’s not the infidelity, it’s the finances? Your wife is harsh,” he joked.

“A lie is a lie is a lie, man.”

“Where you staying in the meantime?”

“Haven’t given it much thought. Figured I’d try to go by the house and talk things over.”

“And if not?”

“With me in job limbo, I can’t afford to blow money on hotels. I already wasted some on the new car.”

“Especially if Dawn’s going to be splitting the property,” Jacobi added in bad taste. “My crib is your crib, dude. Just don’t touch my toothbrush…or my porn. No. Wait. I’ll share my porn. You might need it more than me.”

“Gee. Thanks,” I offered, shaking my head as the reality that I might never be with Dawn again set in.

We made our way back down Allen Parkway, downtown bound, passing KHOU television studios before turning right onto Taft. Passing Gravitas where I’d shared my
last supper
with Dawn, Jacobi wheeled the Range Rover around to Rhode Place per my instructions.

“Is this where your car is supposed to be, man?” Jacobi asked as he slowed outside the gallery. With it being closed, my car should’ve been easy to spot.

Except it wasn’t there.

“Fuck me,” I cursed.