Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
I’m meeting Gabriel’s parents tonight.
For weeks we’ve been trying to come up with a night where everyone was free, but it was difficult with Gabriel and his dad, Doug’s, schedules.
But here we are. Three months into our relationship and I’m finally meeting his parents. My dad insisted on meeting Gabriel within the first week of us dating, so he could thank the man who saved his daughter’s life.
Gabriel spends the last few minutes of the drive coaching me on his mom. “She’ll be friendly, but she’s…” He pauses, carefully choosing his words. “Critical.” He scrunches his nose when he says it, like maybe that’s not the best fit descriptor.
I nod to show him I’m not fazed. Birth order was covered in my Family Communication class. I’m expecting critical, overprotective parenting, maybe even a side of ‘nobody is good enough for my Gabriel’ vibes.
Reaching over, I rub his arm to reassure him. “Par for the course with an only child.”
Gabriel pulls into the driveway of an older model single story home. The lawn is mostly landscaping rock, with a hedge of white oleander on the far side. He cuts the engine and turns to me. “About that.” His eyes hold genuine concern. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I wasn’t always an only child.”
I flinch in surprise at his admission. “You had a sibling?”
“I had an older brother. Nash.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. “He had a heart condition nobody knew about, and died of a heart attack when he was twenty.”
The look on Gabriel’s face sets a burning to the backs of my eyes. I lean over the console, placing my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He watches my fingers drift over his skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I hate talking about it. I was there when it happened, and I relive it every time I talk about it.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that. I understand.” He looks up, and I offer an encouraging smile. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
“I’ve wanted to for a while, but it’s difficult to talk about.” His gaze travels over my face. “I’m glad I did, though.” The relief in Gabriel’s expression twists my heart. He glances at the large window in the front of the house. “We’d better go in. I’m sure my mom has noticed we’re sitting out here.”
I let go of him and gather my purse from the floorboard, forcing gusto into my tone. “Let’s do it.”
Gabriel says my name. I turn back, a question in my eyes.
He taps a knuckle on the steering wheel. “Promise me something.”
“Anything,” I say quickly, because he sounds uncertain and I want to assuage him.
His teeth capture his lower lip. “Promise me you’ll still love me when we get back in this car.”
I’m taken aback. I don’t know why he thinks not loving him is a possibility. “If you think your parents can scare me away from you, let me be the first to tell you I’m made of tough stuff.” I offer him a pinky. “I promise to still love you when we get back in this car.”
Corinne Woodruff opens the door as Gabriel is reaching for the handle. She has a pretty smile, sparkling eyes, and a smear of sauce across the front of her apron.
“Oh!” She looks down at herself. “Forgot I had this on.” She unties the apron and drapes it over a forearm. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” she says to me.
Gabriel’s dad strides in from a hallway, and Gabriel makes formal introductions. Technically, I’ve met his dad, but I don’t know if the day at the fire station could really be called ‘meeting’ his dad. We did little more than exchange a few words.
“You and Gabriel have been joined at the hip since you met. Good thing I sent him after you, huh?” Doug asks, elbowing Gabriel in the ribs.
“I would’ve gone after her,” Gabriel says, a trace of annoyance in his tone.
Doug misses his son’s irritation and keeps going. “Probably not. Gabriel is on the shy side.”
Gabriel is not shy, but I hold back my opinion. I wind an arm around his waist, feeling protective. “Gabriel has a lot of sides. And I love them all.”
Corinne beams at me. “Already loving the good and the bad.” She chucks my chin affectionately. “What a keeper.”
I look to Gabriel for his reaction, but his expression remains unchanged. Are these low-key criticisms a normal thing? I feel like Lara the day my dad brought her home, trying to understand family dynamics.
I offer my help in the kitchen, and Corinne declines. “We’re all set,” she says, walking ahead of us to the dining room.
We’re in the middle of small talk when Corinne asks me about school. I explain my degree to her and how close I am to being finished.
“There are a lot of therapists out there,” she says, pointing her fork at me while she speaks. “And not all of them are scrupulous. Have you seen that new show on TV?”
I twist the napkin in my lap. “It’s unfortunately true, though I’d argue there are unscrupulous people in every field.”
“What are the job prospects like?” she asks.
It feels like an interview, but that’s ok. I get it.
This past week I landed a job with a therapist, so I’m relieved to have an answer. I open my mouth, but Gabriel responds first.
“Avery has already lined up a job.” His voice is snare-drum tight. “She has to complete three thousand supervised clinical hours, and then she’ll be able to get her license and begin practicing.”
Corinne’s eyebrows lift. “Are clinical hours unpaid?”
“Yes,” I admit. It’s a sore spot for me. I’ve been saving money for a while, knowing this was ahead of me. I don’t have enough though.
“And you live with your dad?” Corinne’s voice is pleasant, but there’s judgment in the obvious implication.
“Avery’s house burned down, Mom. You know that.” Gabriel takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, where he leaves a soft kiss. “Besides, Avery doesn’t live with her dad. She lives with me.”
My free hand stills, fork frozen beneath the mound of mashed potatoes on my plate.
Gabriel squeezes my hand and smiles playfully, nodding across the space separating us. “She’s moving in this weekend.”
My initial shock recedes, and I nod my head to support Gabriel in the farce. “I’ve been busy packing my things.”
“Moving in together?” Corinne clears her throat and adjusts the napkin in her lap. “You’ve only been dating a few months.”
Gabriel shrugs. “I don’t see any reason to wait when I know Avery’s who I want.” Beneath the table, his foot rubs mine.
“Well…” Corinne pushes back her chair. She offers me a quick smile. “Let’s have dessert somewhere more comfortable.”
I follow Gabriel’s lead into the living room. A shiny black grand piano sits in one corner, its top covered by framed photos. Corinne hands out lemon meringue pie, and after I’ve eaten half I make my way across the room to look through the pictures.
“Do you see that one in the center?” Doug’s voice booms proudly.
There, larger than the others, is a photo of Gabriel and Doug in their uniforms. Doug’s arm is slung around Gabriel’s shoulders. “That was right after Gabriel became a probie.”
I turn back to the three Woodruffs, all still seated. “Probie?”
“Probationary firefighter,” Gabriel clarifies.
“Gotcha.” I nod. We finish dessert, and I excuse myself to the restroom. Corinne points down a hallway, telling me the closer bathroom is in the middle of a repair.
The hallway is lined on either side with school photos. One in particular has a not-so-great haircut, so I stop and get a closer look, just so I can tease Gabriel later. But it’s not Gabriel, so it must be the brother. Nash. I look to the next photo. Also not Gabriel. Down the hall I go, peering at each picture and not seeing Gabriel.
I don’t want to judge other people’s grief, but this seems odd. Imbalanced. There aren’t any pictures of Gabriel except one, near the end of the hall, next to the bathroom door. He and Nash smile at the camera. Nash, presumably at high school graduation, wears a special sash and honor cords around his neck, arm laid over Gabriel’s shoulders.
I move on into the bathroom, trying to shake off the discomfort I’m feeling. When I rejoin the group in the living room, Gabriel gives me a long look. I take a seat beside him while Corinne talks about whether she’ll have time to mulch the flower beds this weekend.
“Did you see the shrine?” Gabriel murmurs in my ear.
“It’d be hard to miss,” I whisper, pretending to adjust the strap on my sandal.
Later, when we’ve said our goodbyes and we’re driving down the street, Gabriel reaches over the center console and winds his fingers through mine. We come to a stop at a red light, and he tugs my hand, pulling my attention to him.
He looks vulnerable in the red glow of the stoplight. After that experience, I’m not sure what to say to him. There’s a lot more to Gabriel’s relationship with his parents than I would have guessed.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I force my voice into a tone that conveys I don’t know what he’s talking about. “For what?”
He gives me a long look. “You know what for.”
“Your mom?” I thumb behind myself. “She just wants to make sure I’m the right person for you. I’m not offended.”
“I don’t just mean her questions.” Gabriel’s gaze softens. “Every time something good happens to me, such as bringing a girl like you home, I can see them thinking about Nash. About how he’ll never do whatever it is I’m doing.” His shoulders dip. “They wish it had been me.”
“No,” I say immediately. “That’s not true.” Parents don’t do that, right? Because that would be awful.
The light turns green and Gabriel lets off the brake. I wish we weren’t driving. I want to crawl into his lap, to melt into him and find every one of these destructive thoughts and demolish them.
Gabriel stares at the road, his jaw set. “Honestly, I don’t blame them. Nash was the best person. Outgoing, funny, confident. He had a million friends. Everyone loved him.” He runs his thumb over his brow. “He was an all-around good guy. The kind of person you knew was going to do great things.”
He says it like only Nash was capable of being great, and if Nash isn’t here, the greatness can’t happen. “Nash may have been those things, but so are you.” Reaching over, I rest a hand on his thigh. “You could’ve been describing yourself just now.”
His gaze flicks over to mine, then back to the road. “Do you ever feel like you’re watching yourself live life? Like you’re standing on the outside and looking in?”
“That’s how I felt after my mom died. I’ve always loved to read, so I pictured myself as the main character of a book, and I would narrate as I went through my days. Each day was a blank page and a pen hovered above the page, filling it in as the day passed.” I’ve never told anybody that, not even Camryn.
“You don’t talk about your mom much.” His thumb taps the steering wheel. “Why is that?”
Before I answer, I spend a moment picturing her collarbone-length dirty blonde hair, the way she would bend over me and tickle my midsection. “Sometimes I feel confused when I remember her. I was young, so I only have a handful of memories. After she died, I had to help raise Camryn. My dad disappeared, too, but in a different way. He went into himself and stayed there for a long time. I filled my mom’s empty role, and it’s hard to process someone’s death when you’re filling their shoes.”
Gabriel’s lips twist into a sad, wistful smile. “Sounds like our parents did a number on us.”
“All parents do, in one way or another. Nobody escapes childhood unscathed. Or life, for that matter.”
Gabriel takes my hand as we drive down his street. “You’re wise. It’s hard to believe you’re only twenty-three.”
“Old soul.” I shrug. “And all that research on longevity in marriage. It opened my eyes to the complexities of relationships.”
Gabriel pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine. He shifts in his seat so he can face me. At first I think he’s going to keep talking about Nash, but he takes me aback when he says, “About moving in together?—”
I wave my hand. “You were giving your mom a hard time. I know. It would be crazy to move in together so soon.”
Gabriel’s quiet at first, then says, “Would it?”
“Um, yes?” I don’t sound sure. Quite the opposite, actually.
“What if we didn’t pay attention to arbitrary rules about when things are supposed to happen? Your house burned down and you went to stay with your dad, except he showed up out of nowhere with a fiancée. It feels a little like”—he shrugs—“fate.”
“Fate,” I echo. I like the idea of ignoring timelines that say when we are supposed to do things in relationships. Going with my gut, following my heart, listening to my soul. However it’s termed, it sounds a lot better than hearing my dad and Lara having sex.
The more I think about it, the more I love the idea of living with Gabriel. I want to wake up to him, place my toothbrush next to his, add my favorite salad dressing to his collection in the fridge door. There is one detail though, that I have to mention.
“I’m not going to be able to contribute financially. Not much, anyway. I didn’t pay rent at Sabrina’s house, just my share of the utilities.” I cleaned the house, too, because I felt bad about not paying rent.
Gabriel’s shaking his head before I finish speaking. “I’m not worried about that. I’m serious about you. About us. You’re starting your career, and I want to support you. Financially, and in every other way.”
“Are you sure?” I glance at Gabriel’s house. “This is a big step.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not afraid of big steps. Why stop with moving in together? Let’s get a dog, too.”
“Hah,” I laugh. “No dogs. No way.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows lift. “Are you telling me you don’t like dogs?”
“Is that a deal breaker?” I grin.
“No, but…do you really dislike dogs? I’m genuinely curious.”
“Dogs are fine, I guess. I’ve never had one as a pet. We had a neighbor who had an awful dog who humped my leg a lot and even bit me twice. His name was Baxter.”
Gabriel’s eyes light up with recognition. Before he can ask, I say, “That’s why you’ll hear Cam call me Baxter every once in a while.”
Gabriel laughs, and the sound fills the truck. I love it so much, I want to tuck it away and save it for another time when I feel sad.
“That’s enough,” I say, pointing a stern finger at him. I push up onto my knees and crawl over the console. He adjusts himself in his seat to accommodate my body. My leg swings over, and I straddle him. “Do you promise you want me to move in? It’s your space. Your home.”
He shakes his head. “Not anymore.”
“Then let’s do it. Let’s move in together.” Excitement fills me and I squeal with my mouth closed, the sound coming from my throat. Gabriel’s chuckle vibrates against me.
The mood in the truck has swung from somber to euphoric.
The air conditioning blasts against my back, making me shiver, but his grin heats me up. “So you still love me as much as you did before you met my mom?”
“If anything, I love you more. All I saw tonight only helped me to understand you better.” I kiss his temple, run my hands through his hair. “Everybody’s family is a unique brand of fucked up, Gabriel. That’s what I’m learning.”
Gabriel’s thumbs graze my sides, up and over my chest. He leans in, the tip of his nose fluttering over my jawbone.
His hands drop to my hips, and his tongue slides over my jaw. “You taste sweet. And you smell like something I want to bury myself in.”
Outside, the moon is nothing more than a sliver. The front porch lights are off, bathing the driveway in total darkness.
Gabriel’s eyes flicker to the backseat, then up to the house. “Let’s go inside,” he says.
I leave my stuff in the truck, and we hurry through the front door. We’re a tangle of limbs, and I slam the door closed with a hip. We make it to the living room, where we drop to the carpet.
Gabriel presses his face between my thighs, and in a few short minutes there are starbursts behind my closed eyes. He crawls up my body, smiling at me and running his tongue along his lower lip. “ A Very sweet treat,” he says, looking pleased with himself.
I feel the flush on my cheeks. I don’t know why I’m shy now, considering where he was thirty seconds ago.
Gabriel leans down, peppering my jawline with short kisses. “Tell me what you like. What you want from me.”
My breath sticks in my throat. “You know what I like. We have sex all the time.” We have been insatiable since that first time, feral and starving for each other within hours of our last time.
“Tell me,” Gabriel whispers, pushing hair from my forehead. “Be honest about what you want.”
Honesty feels a lot like vulnerability, and I don’t love that idea. But I love Gabriel, and I trust him. I trust there is a safe place to land. It’s not honesty that’s hard for people. It’s what’s at stake after they’re honest.
I swallow against my instinct to withhold my desires. Gabriel glides into me, over and over, and in one breath, I say, “Slower.”
His pace decreases. In the dark of the living room, the tip of his tongue drags up my neck.
“My hair,” I gasp. I see the swell, knowing it’s rising for me, and all I have to do is catch it. “Put your hand in my hair.”
Gabriel slides a hand up my neck, fingers splaying as they venture into my long hair and scrape over my scalp.
“Pull,” I whisper.
He listens. The understated burn of pain mixes with pleasure. My cheek presses against the forearm he uses to support himself, and I turn into him. He’s doing everything right, so right, and soon I’m riding the wave and biting into Gabriel’s bicep. He lets go, too, and I hold on to the coiled muscles in his upper back, offering up my mouth. He likes to kiss me when he comes.