I had to make this chapter a massive 2,531 words in an attempt to wrap up all my loose ends. It sorta worked, but there will be an epilogue to get those last few questions answered.
Kowalski adjusted his suit jacket and tie trying to ignore how he felt his stomach lurch at the sense of deja vu. An art gallery opening without Rico cut a little too close to home and he let the wave of self-loathing wash through him for a moment. Then he forced himself to remember that what happened all those weeks ago was not directly his fault. Doris had created an elaborate ruse and played them all to one degree or another even if he had been manipulated the most.
"Marlene would understand if you didn't come tonight," Skipper commented as he stepped into the room looking like Diego Garcia in his suit.
"I know. She's told me enough times," Kowalski answered and gave his tie one last adjustment, forcing a memory-turned-fantasy of the last time his tie had been adjusted to the back of his mind. "And while I don't understand how some of these works are ever considered art, she's worked hard for months to get this show approved and I want to support her."
"Ugh, I know." Skipper groaned in mild annoyance.
Kowalski wasn't sure if he'd ever understand how Skipper and Marlene's relationship worked when he had such disdain for something she was so passionate about. Then again he was certain that Skipper didn't actually hate art but hated the fact that he didn't see the point of it or understood why some things were considered art while other things weren't.
"I can think of someone who'd trade places with you in a heartbeat," Kowalski commented, although it stung to think about how much Rico would have loved to support Marlene.
"I'd switch in a heartbeat. The lucky bastard has been putting Manfredi and Johnson through the wringer." Skipper's expression shifted to one of pride as he spoke again. "He's demolished everything they've thrown at him."
Kowalski made a small noise of acknowledgment at the remark. In truth, he wasn't surprised to hear Rico's recovery was going well, but it would have been nice to be a part of it in some way. Instead, he had been given two minutes with Rico, not long after the man had regained consciousness and was deemed stable. Those circumstances had made it difficult to convey much of anything, but it had been enough to hear the low rumble of his name pass through Rico's lips and feel a pulse thundering under his fingers. Since then CENTRAAL held fast to its stipulation of restricted contact.
"Hey," Skipper placed a hand his Kowalski's shoulder and gave a gentle nudge breaking the man's train of thought. "Are you sure you're going to be okay going?"
"Yes, I just…"Kowalski trailed off and wondered what to say before settling on, "miss him."
Skipper nodded in understanding, "we all do, but I have a gut feeling that the council will lift that restriction when you're standing in front of them again in two weeks."
"I suppose I'll just have to learn to trust your gut instincts."
Once at the gallery, Kowalski felt more at ease about the situation. He supposed it had to do with having a few familiar faces around, even ones that he wouldn't have expected to see at a black-tie gallery event. Although perhaps it shouldn't be surprising given that it was meant to extend opportunities for local talent to be seen and recognized.
"Hey, guys! So glad to see that you made it!"
Burt's boisterous voice cut in as the gentle giant of a man approached them.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Private replied, taking the lead of the conversation. "Are any of your works here?"
Kowalski and Skipper shared a knowing look. While they didn't have anything against Burt, once you got involved in a conversation with the man it was hard to get out of it. And even if they had plenty of time to chat, the sooner that Marlene saw them, then the sooner they could leave.
It didn't take long to spot her chatting with several people whom Kowalski assumed were patrons of the gallery. It was only a minute later that she was excusing herself and making her way over to them her careful professional demeanor breaking as she pulled each of them into a hug.
"What happened to Private?" Marlene asked as she pulled away from Skipper and realized they were short by one.
Skipper gestured over his shoulder as he answered, "Burt got to him."
Marlene shook her head and sighed. "I tried to tell Burt to let his art do the talking tonight, but I should have known he'd still trap someone."
"Hopefully he sticks to people he knows," Kowalski added as he mentally hoped that he wouldn't run into too many of their neighbors. The longer he was there the more he started to feel like he had ants under his skin and he had to keep reminding himself that it was different this time. It wasn't a mission. It wasn't some elaborate trap.
"I'll definitely be making rounds and doing damage control." Marlene frowned for a moment as she considered worst-case scenarios. "But if the feedback I've been getting continues it'll be worth it."
"You should be proud Marlene, this was one hell of a project to pull together."
"You haven't even seen all of it yet," Marlene responded with a sharp grin and looped her arm around Skipper's, "walk with me?"
"Now how could I say no to a guided tour?" Skipper responded but shot Kowalski a panicked look as he realized that there was no way he could slip out early. "You joining us?"
"No, I'm going to take a lap myself, but I'll catch up later." Kowalski tried not to sound smug as he watched Marlene guide Skipper away.
Leaving Skipper to his fate, Kowalski began to work his way around the gallery. He didn't feel the need to linger in front of every work and instead let himself be drawn to anything that caught his eye. Most of the work was modern and abstract which left him little ground to stand on in deciding if the critics commenting around him were right about the piece having a presence. From his perspective, the current piece before him looked more like a schematic for a circuit system with sharp lines that overlapped into a myriad of rectangles.
Then he passed through Burt's section and found himself at a further loss at what qualified as art. Yet, Burt seemed to be gaining quite a bit of fanfare and interest in his work, so art it was, even if it seemed like anyone could throw some paint at a canvas.
While art was not Kowalski's "thing" by a long shot and he'd admit without hesitation he had found that he had more admiration for traditional art styles and observational subject matter. Both of which seemed to be lacking as he took in a canvas that was painted half red and half blue with a single thin line of yellow dividing them.
"Mort could be a better artist than some of the so-called ones here," Julien commented to Maurice as the pair walked toward Kowalski.
"Mort is a better artist than a few of these examples," Maurice agreed just under his breath before acknowledging the other man.
"Didn't think this was your scene, Kowalski."
Kowalski offered a small smile before answering. "It's not, but I had to support Marlene and it's better than sitting alone at HQ half the night."
"It's definitely not the worst way to spend the night," Maurice agreed. "Have you heard anything by chance?"
"No. I'm still on some tight restrictions," Kowalski said, trying not to let the bitterness seep into his voice.
"The Sky Spirits have heard and answered my prayers once and I'm sure they will be willing to do it again."
"Try not to let it get you down tonight. Marlene put something amazing together and you should enjoy it."
"You're right. Tonight is about her and the artists she found."
"If you want to call some of them artists, but a few of them have some serious skills. If you want a break from all the paint splatter there's a few interesting pieces tucked toward the back."
"Thank you. I'll be sure to give it a look."
Kowski hoped that they realized he wasn't just thanking them for the recommendation. But he wasn't always sure how to read the pair and continued to make his way to the corner that Julien had gestured to while Maurice had been talking.
This part of the gallery wasn't nearly as crowded and Kowalski vaguely wondered if it was due to the abrupt change in style. Instead of abstract takes it was a blend of realism and mixed media filling the walls. The heavy textures and found pieces caught his attention as things that shouldn't have worked together but did so beautifully.
Even the large canvas that seemed ruined by graffiti had something alluring about it. The painting was that of a woman who appeared to be performing on stage, but her face was obscured by spray paint. And the stage was also partially obscured by hands, also made using spray paint, reaching for her.
Kowalski approached it slowly, taking in the larger-than-life figure, and realized it was not the only painting in that particular style. There were three more like it.
One showcased barefooted boys playing soccer on a dirt road, but all of their faces had been blacked out by spray paint and new shadows were added so that it looks like they were standing on graves.
Then just below that were a few boys perched on the roof of a building as the sunset. All of their faces were blacked out and what looked like blood splatter had been added to the side of the building. Along with a shadow of a figure holding something that made it clear that unsavory actions had unfolded during such an innocent moment.
But the other was just as large as the first and he now recognized the larger-than-life figure in it was Santa Muerte. However, she wasn't in the foreground as he initially thought. There were two smaller figures huddled before her, or before her altar, while she stood behind them. Two young boys it seemed, their hands linked painfully between them as they lit a candle.
Kowalski swallowed thickly as it registered that he had seen this painting before. His mind was filling in the gaps that were covered with graffiti such as the boys' faces.
He looked for the placard to confirm what he already knew was true but found that it was labeled Anonymous. Of course, it would be, Rico never let his art out with his real name attached, at most he would use an old tag he used as a teenager back in Chile. Even hiding it somewhere in the work itself when possible. Sure enough, now that he was looking for it, he could see it in the background of the one with the boys playing soccer and the more obvious one on the side of the building with the boys on the roof.
"Most people don't consider street art to be art," Marlene commented as she came up next to Kowalski with Skipper close behind her. "And while Banksy has done amazing things to show otherwise. I think this artist excels in showing that traditional art and street art can exist together. Took me forever to convince him to contribute to the exhibit."
"Yeah," Kowalski felt his throat tighten at the sudden wash of emotions that ran through him. He remembered that Rico had been working on the one painting when he and Doris had started dating months ago.
"When I said I wanted local artists, I meant I wanted local artists."
"It really is an amazing thing you've done. I just wish that Rico could see it."
"Well, I can't think of a single artist from this project that isn't here tonight." Marlene offered the man a warm smile and gave him another hint, "Some of them just preferred to stay out of the crowd."
Kowalski stared at her in confusion. Surely Marlene wasn't saying what he thought she was saying.
"Check the second floor, genius." Skipper cut in and nodded his head to the right. "CENTRAAL decided to lift the restriction. Calling it a trial period before you have to go up against the committee again."
Kowalski looked in the direction that Skipper had indicated but found that he had already started to move through the crowd toward a staircase that was technically blocked off for the event. His long legs allowed him to take the steps by two and he wasted no time taking them one at a time.
"Rico…." Kowalski breathed as he froze at the top of the steps.
"Hey," Rico offered with a crooked smile looking once more like himself.
Kowalski could feel his lips move, but no words would come out. Instead, he practically threw himself at Rico and buried his face into the crook of the man's neck as he embraced him. Tears stung his eyes as he felt Rico return the embrace, hands clutching at the back of his suit jacket.
For a moment all he could do was focus on the fact that Rico was alive. Alive and there with him. He could feel each breath Rico took and the warmth radiating from his body.
After a moment they separated but not entirely and it vaguely registered in Kowalski's mind that they were in nearly the same position all those months ago when Rico had asked if he trusted him.
"I'm sorry," Kowalski finally said, meeting Rico's eyes. "I was an idiot and didn't see what was in front of me this whole time. I couldn't see it because I was so wrapped up in trying to be something I wasn't. I've hated myself for so long that I completely missed the fact that someone did love me. That you—"
"'Still do," Rico interrupted him gently and shifted to cup one side of Kowalski's face in his hand.
Once again Kowalski was at a loss for words and pressed his forehead to Rico's as he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes against the onslaught of emotions. He then felt Rico's nose bump against his and Kowalski felt the same urge to close the remaining space between them as he had all those months ago.
Only this time Rico didn't move away and the fire Kowalski had only heard about but never believed ignited deep in his chest at the first brush of lips against his.