Cold Coffee and Stale Cigarettes *on hold*

Chapter 19

 

                The first snow fall dusted the world the night after Ava had been admitted to the hospital. She had survived despite the odds. Over three liters of blood had emptied on that tile floor and most of her organs had been scorched with bleach. Her attempt had failed. She was upset. She was hollow. If it hadn’t been for Elliot and I, she would be dead. Did that mean we cared for her or that we were her enemies? Ava had refused letting anyone visit her. She had her phone on her now –she had taken the time to let me know she would be ok- but as far as I knew even Elliot hadn’t seen her yet, boyfriend or not. I couldn’t get excited for the holidays but I planned on visiting her soon. Elliot hadn’t given up –staying at the hospital relentlessly, even though I told him he should go home for a while and clean up. He had refused and I knew soon enough it would be my time to relieve him of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room.

                “Please.” Tara pleaded, breaking into my thoughts as she swung her and my father’s intertwined hands back and forth. The action made my own hand itch where the doctors had stitched me together. The window had cut deeper than I thought and Dalton had made sure I had gotten looked at. The stitches didn’t bother me that much. I had plenty of stitches before and I knew the doctor. He was good enough and had remembered me from the last time I stood in the hospital, crying and bloody. He promised he would keep tabs on Ava for me and let me know if something went wrong even though we both knew he couldn’t give me any details without breaching confidentiality.

                “I’m no good at that stuff.” he insisted, frowning. Tyler and I exchanged mocking glances, rolling our eyes at the fact Tara was going to make him question his masculinity momentarily.

                “Come on Dave, it’d make ma happy.” Tyler’s lips quirked into a grin so wide it nearly overtook his face.

                “Yea dad. You never do anything with her. Just her.” I supplied, wanting to force them into doing something without dragging Tyler along.

                “Baking cookies,” he grumbled, “Is not a thing.”

                “We have to every year.” Tyler scrunched his nose, glaring in the direction of the kitchen. “You can help out too.” Really, he was just trying to get us out of nine hours of child labor.

                “You’re the kids.” My father’s eyes flashed in annoyance.

                “You’re the husband.” I pointed out.

                “Yea Dave, you’re supposed to be the one entertaining your wife.” Tyler nudged my ribs and I rolled my eyes, knowing he was purposely trying to make them uncomfortable in an attempt to make me feel better. Everyone knew what had happened to Ava and they were tiptoeing around me as if the slightest stir of air would make me topple over.

                “I’m bad at baking.” he insisted. Tara’s eyes were wide and glistening as she stared at her husband, a pout painted on her lips. Warm and pretty and golden sunshine.  

                “Dad? Just bake the damn cookies. It’ll make her happy.” He blinked in surprise and Tara’s pout transformed into a cotton candy grin.

                “See? They agree. It’s romantic.” She dragged him towards the kitchen and he groaned in exasperation as Tyler and I snickered again, making faces at his back.

                “Wanna walk to the coffee shop and get hot coco for everyone?” Tyler whispered. “Mom would like it and I wanna get her a present while we’re out.”