11 Gabriel
11
Gabriel
Present Day
After a day that did not go as planned, I lay on my couch around ten at night, sipping a beer as I watched a movie and Bentley lay on top of my feet, snoring. My eye still stung from that damn punch.
My phone, set beside me, dinged. I lifted it up, surprised to see a text message from an unknown number.
Unknown: Are you still alive? Do you have a concussion?
I sat up slightly.
Gabriel: Kierra?
Kierra: Yeah. Sorry. I had your business card with your number on it. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.
I saved her number instantly.
Gabriel: Alive and somewhat well.
Kierra: Good. No concussion?
Gabriel: How would I know if I had a concussion?
Kierra: Symptoms include confusion, headaches, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, sleepiness, confusion, ringing in the ears, and dizziness.
Gabriel: Did you just WebMD that and copy and paste?
Kierra: I might have copied and pasted from WebMD.
Gabriel: Well, don’t worry. I think I’m okay. Just a bruised eye and a bruised ego.
Kierra: Okay. Good.
Kierra: I mean, not good that your eye and ego are bruised, but you know what I mean.
I chuckled a little.
Gabriel: I know what you mean.
Kierra: Good.
Gabriel: I’m also sorry for getting a little too personal earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.
A few minutes passed with no reply, and I felt like an idiot for even bringing that up. That was until my phone started ringing, and her name popped up on the screen. I hesitated for a moment before answering, thinking it was an accidental call.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you.”
“Not a bother. I just wasn’t sure if the call was accidental.”
“Yeah, no. It’s not. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes… I mean, no… I mean…” She seemed disoriented as her words stumbled from her tongue, but I waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts. “Ava’s at her grandmother’s house, Henry is out drinking with a few colleagues, and my pillowcase smells like her.”
“Like who?”
“Lena.”
“Who’s Lena?”
“Our private chef.”
Oh.
Fuck.
“I also found one of her earrings,” she said. “She wears a certain type. It was under my blanket and poked me in the leg when I crawled beneath my blankets to sleep.”
“Kierra—”
“Can you ask me again?” she cut in.
“Ask you what?”
“If I’m happy.”
I felt nervous to ask for some reason. Maybe because I knew she’d answer, and I wasn’t certain she was ready to answer. I wasn’t certain she was ready to express her truth out loud.
“Are you happy, Kierra?”
“No,” she quickly replied. “But maybe some people aren’t meant to be happy. Maybe some people are just meant to be heartbroken.”
“Maybe that’s true. But I don’t think those people are you.”
“How can you be so sure? You hardly know me.”
“I know,” I agreed. “It makes no sense, but I feel you, Kierra. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can tell the type of person you are, and you aren’t a person that’s meant to be unhappy.”
“You feel me?” she asked, slightly perplexed.
“Yes,” I told her. “I feel you sometimes even when you aren’t around.”
“Gabriel?”
“Yes?”
“I feel you, too,” she whispered.
Fuck my heart…
It just did a million somersaults in my chest.
“Why are you staying with him?” I asked. “If you’re so unhappy. If he’s cheating. If he’s a complete shit in all ways.”
“Because of Ava.”
“You could be without him and still have Ava. She’s still your daughter.”
“Yes, she is. But not on paper, and he’s told me repeatedly that he’ll take her away from me if I leave him.”
“He can’t really mean that.”
“You must not know my husband.”
“Why would he make Ava suffer, though? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Because it would hurt me…and that would please him.”
“There must be a way out, Kierra. We can figure out—”
“We don’t have to figure this out now. It’s not even your responsibility,” she cut in with a weighted sigh. “I just wanted to hear someone else’s voice to drown out the heaviness of my own thoughts.”
“Okay.” I paused for a moment, considering what else I could say to keep the conversation moving away from Henry. To lighten her spirits. To give her some kind of peace when her world seemed to be nothing but storms.
“What’s your favorite thing to do when you feel overwhelmed?” I asked her. “Something that’s just yours.”
“Sit by the ocean and draw. I haven’t done it in so long. I used to drive out to the coast and stay for hours, just listening to the water crashing against the shore. It stilled everything else for a while. It calmed down all the commotion in my head.”
“I’ll be by your place in twenty minutes.”
She laughed. “No, Gabriel. That isn’t—”
“Kierra.”
“Yes?”
“Put your shoes on and bring your sketchbook. I’ll see you soon.”
I found her waiting on her front porch. She headed to the car and hopped in. When she looked over to me, she shyly smiled and thanked me for coming to get her.
“Always,” I told her.
Oddly enough, I felt that was true.
I didn’t know I could say always to a person I hardly knew—and mean it. Yet there I was, promising it.
She kept smiling but didn’t reply. She held her sketchbook close to her chest and tilted her head toward me. She reached out and gently touched my eye. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been worse.”
“Well, we’ll take that answer tonight.”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Her full lips fell slightly. “I’ve been worse,” she echoed.
I snickered. “We’ll take that answer tonight.”
I pulled off and we drove back over to my property that sat right on the coastline.
Kierra’s eyes widened in amazement as she looked at the cabin-style ranch home with large windows and a wooden porch that wrapped around the whole house. The place wasn’t huge, but it was comfortable. I owned a good handful of acres, and I could’ve expanded the size of the house if I wanted to, but it was just me and Bentley inside the place. I didn’t see the point of having a huge home that would just feel empty most of the time.
It was lit up by the string of lights I had set up around the porch, and two rocking chairs facing the backyard had drawing tables. I spent a lot of my nights out there sketching for hours, listening to the waves crash against the shoreline. My boat was sitting at the dock, floating back and forth slightly from the waves.
As Kierra walked around the porch, her mouth hung open. “This is home?”
“This is home,” I said as I slid my hands into my pockets. “It’s not much, but it’s—”
“So perfect,” she breathed out. We’d reached the back of the porch, and the moment she saw the water, she couldn’t help but smile. Her hands fell to the porch railing and she took in a breath. “This is perfect, Gabriel.”
“It’s home.”
“When I was younger, I wanted a place like this. I wanted something rustic and authentic, with lots of windows for natural sunlight. A place that felt like home.” Before I could reply, Bentley started barking at the back door. She whipped around to face the door. “You have a dog?”
“Yeah, sorry. I should’ve mentioned that. Are you afraid or allergic? I can keep him inside—”
“Let him out,” she urged.
I opened the door, and Bentley came jumping all over me. I bent down and snuggled him. “He’s a big teddy bear and loves giving kisses,” I informed her as I was attacked with dog slobber. “Okay, Bent, chill, will you?” I chuckled.
Kierra stood still, and the moment Bentley looked over to her, he headed straight for her. “Bent is his name?”
“Bentley,” I corrected. “Bent for short.”
Her brown eyes locked on mine. They looked as if they were seconds away from being flooded with tears. “His name is Bentley?”
“Yes?”
“And he’s a…German shepherd?”
“Yup. He’s my best friend.”
Kierra choked out a sob and covered her mouth. “Sorry. Gosh, I’m so emotional lately.” She bent down and began to pat Bentley. He rolled over to his back for belly rubs, like the little pet whore he’d always been, wagging his tail back and forth at a wild speed. Kierra’s tears released from her eyes as she petted Bentley all over. “Hey, sweet boy,” she whispered. “Aren’t you the perfect creature.”
I stood back, watching the interaction between the two. She seemed embarrassed by her emotions, but I didn’t think that was anything to be shy about. I found it refreshing—how someone could feel so much, so deeply.
Kierra had a lot going on in her life. It wasn’t shocking that tears found their way down her cheeks often. She was in a season of hardship. Hell, she’d just found another woman’s jewelry in her bedsheets. I’d be a bit off-kilter, too. I just felt glad that she allowed her tears to fall around me. As if I were some kind of safe place for her to feel the deepest of feelings.
She stood and rubbed her arms up and down. She smiled my way and wiped her tears before crossing her arms. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“I’m so happy for you, Gabriel. I’m so happy that you have this life and Bentley.”
I smiled and gestured toward the two chairs with the drawing tables set up. “Do you want to sketch with me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wine?”
“Absolutely,” she repeated.
I walked inside and grabbed two glasses, a bottle of red wine, and a sweatshirt because I saw Kierra slightly shivering.
She slid on the sweatshirt—so big that she swam in it—and thanked me as I poured her wine. She opened her sketchbook, and I was stunned by her drawings.
“Fashion designs?” I asked, taking my seat.
“Yeah. I used to want to be a fashion designer.”
“How does one go from wanting to be a fashion designer to becoming a therapist?”
“I ask myself that all the time.” She paused and shrugged. “I guess I wanted to do something that helped people feel better.”
“Great clothes can do that—a confidence boost of sorts.”
“True, but after I went through something hard, I turned to therapy. It helped me so much that I wanted to help others. I still design pieces for Ava. Most of the stuff you’ve seen her wearing was made by me.”
“No way. That’s amazing, Kierra. These designs are amazing. I see where Ava gets her sketching talent.”
She laughed. “She’s a million times better than me.”
We began drawing as we listened to the water crashing against the shore. There were periods of time when we were silent, yet that didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It just felt…right. There was something so welcoming about a peaceful silence. I hated forced conversation.
Every now and then, I’d catch Kierra looking my way out of the corner of my eye, and I didn’t know why, but when she looked at me, my whole body heated up.
“Okay, drawing-hand break. Time for a game,” she said, placing her drawing pencil down. “Two truths and a lie.”
I put my pencil down, laced my fingers together, and stretched my arms in the air. “Game on. You first.”
“I am deathly afraid of roller coasters. I played softball all through high school. I won a whistling competition.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t whistle for shit.”
She arched an eyebrow, seemingly stunned by my pick. Then she licked her lips multiple times, puckered her lips together, and blew. And not a damn whistle came out. Only the sound of her blowing air.
I chuckled at the worst attempt at whistling I’d ever heard in my life.
“Okay, not a professional whistler,” she confessed. “Your turn.”
I rubbed my palm against my chin. “I’m allergic to shellfish, I don’t like peanut butter at all, and I used to smoke cigarettes.”
“Easy, you never smoked.”
“That’s true.”
“Okay, my go.” She rubbed her hands together as she turned to face me more in her chair. She folded her legs into the chair and got comfortable. “ Heart and Souls is one of my all-time favorite movies, I love puzzles, and I’m in love with my husband.”
My chest tightened from her last one. “You don’t love him.”
She tugged on the sleeves of my sweatshirt and slowly shook her head. “I don’t love him.”
“Have you said that out loud before?”
“Not until now. Not until here.”
“Why now?”
Her shoulders rose and fell swiftly. “I guess you just make it easier for me to be real.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands in her lap. “Your go.”
“All right, um.…” I took a big chug of my wine before setting the glass down. “I want to draw you right now, I’ve had multiple dreams about you, and I love grilled-cheese sandwiches.”
Her eyes widened with astonishment as she whispered, “You hate grilled-cheese sandwiches.”
“I hate grilled-cheese sandwiches.”
Her full lips stayed slightly parted. “Which means the other two are true?”
“The other two are very true.”
“Okay.” She tugged on the sleeves of my sweatshirt more, before standing and pulling her chair back away from me. She then sat and posed. “You can draw me.”
I gathered my materials and began to draw her. We sat in silence again for at least twenty minutes as I sketched until she said, “You really dream of me?”
“Often,” I stated, staring down at my sketchbook.
“What are the dreams about?”
I paused my pencil strokes and looked up toward her. “About me loving you.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “Do you wake up happy after them?”
“No,” I quickly confessed. “Because when I wake, I know that the dreams aren’t true.”
Her lips turned down as a somber thought found her. She looked like she had a lot to say. As if her thoughts were spiraling so fast that she wasn’t certain what words would make the most sense to express. She glanced at her phone. “What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Two in the morning.”
“Geez, I should get going. If Henry comes home and I’m not there, it will be a whole thing.” She stood from her chair and smoothed her hands over my sweatshirt. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. Not a problem.”
I drove her home in silence while my mind debated repeatedly whether I’d overshared during the two truths and a lie game. I was beating myself up with my thoughts about it the whole time, but what was I supposed to say? Sorry for telling you the truth, Kierra. Oh, also by the way, not only do I dream about you, but I think about you every waking day of the week. No big deal.
As I pulled up to her place, she thanked me once more before she opened the passenger door.
“Gabriel?” she asked, turning back toward me.
“Yes?”
“Sorry, there’s something important that I need to get off my chest. It’s been bothering me for a while. I’ve been thinking about it for hours tonight, ever since you’ve brought it up, and if I don’t say it, I’ll explode.”
Nerves built up within me at an alarming speed. “What is it?”
She bit her bottom lip and sighed. “I think it’s really, really creepy how you don’t like grilled-cheese sandwiches. It’s toasted bread with melty cheese. What’s not to like?”
I laughed. “Add it to my list of flaws.”
A slight smile touched her lips. “It’s a very short list.”
“I’m sure you’ll find more things to add to it over time.”
“Not too sure about that. Good night.”
“Good night, Penguin.”
Her whole body froze. “What did you just call me?”
What did I just call her?
Penguin?
Where did that come from? What did that even mean?
Fuck, I didn’t know why I said that. My eyes narrowed in confusion. “Sorry, I meant good night, Kierra. I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry, my brain’s fried.”
She gave me a small grin and nodded as she climbed out of my car. “Good night.”
Her hand stayed on the car door, and she cleared her throat and said my name once more.
“Yeah?” I asked.
Her brown eyes fluttered open and closed as she murmured six words that would keep me up for the remainder of the short night. “I’ve had dreams about you, too.”