Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gabi
Papà: How are you, Gabriella? Do you need anything?
For some reason, this morning’s monthly message was even more annoying than normal. She glared at it and formed a response in her mind.
Actually, Pops, I’m worried about my scan next week. I’m worried my broken bone is not going to have healed and I’ll never work again.
She pulled a face.
Or, To be honest, Dad, my feelings have been hurt by a hunky hero who seems to hate the fact that I like to rely on myself.
She rolled her eyes.
Finally, she typed,
Gabi: I’m fine, thanks. And no, nothing at all.
Why did he keep bothering when it was obviously just a duty message every time?
She recalled his messages when she was younger, every week the same questions.
How hopeful she felt when his name appeared on her screen, and how her heart dropped with disappointment with every message that didn’t include a plan to meet up, or an invitation home for the summer.
He never asked her more than the bare minimum to know that she was alive, so what was the point?
You’d think he’d get bored of it, his questions, her reply.
Nothing changing for better or worse. The same frozen state of relationship for more years than she could remember.
She stared helplessly at her own words, then pressed send and threw the phone on the bed.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she had a sense of déjà vu. Another party at The Bolthole. Another night trying to prove to Walker McBride that she didn’t care what he did or said. And this time, she wouldn’t give in to him even if he begged her.
He couldn’t just go around making out she was somehow emotionally detached just because she didn’t want to throw herself into a full-blown relationship with him. She wasn’t going to be here long enough for more than a few casual hook-ups so what was his problem? Well, it was his loss.
She checked her outfit. The warmer weather gave her the chance to wear less.
Her black short shorts almost met her bralette, and her belly button ring shone through the gap.
She dusted some highlighter on her shoulders and cleavage.
She mussed her hair and drew on eyeliner, smudging it purposefully to give herself a slightly doe-eyed, sultry look.
She added heavy mascara and was done. Take that, Walker.
See what you could have taken home tonight.
She grabbed her crutches and swung herself out to show him exactly what he was missing.
Fuck Walker. Fuck her dad. She didn’t need any of them.
Fox met them at the door. Silver quiff styled to messy perfection. Stubble grizzled across his chin. He wore his signature checked shirt and jeans and greeted Gabi and Amber with kisses and hugs.
‘The boys are here,’ he said, looking mock sternly at first Gabi and then Amber. ‘So, play nicely.’
Gabi bristled. So, Walker had been talking too.
Nice. She shrugged off her coat and left Fox to check it into the cloakroom.
Amber held hers out too and stood smoking hot in a blue dress that matched the ocean of her eyes, her brown curls spread high on her head in a halo.
Gabi recognised the amount of effort her friend had made to look like she didn’t give a fuck either.
Gabi gave her an appreciative wink and they headed on in.
The Bolthole was transformed to celebrate Fox’s game. Each room was a different level in the game. Play areas had been set up where people already lounged, wearing headphones, absorbed in the challenge.
The first room was a spaceship. Waiting staff wore short silver suits and bubble helmets, handing out cocktails with names like Moon Magma or Jupiter Juice.
Amber took one of each as Gabi didn’t have a hand free and they moved through to the back room where they usually sang karaoke.
It had been turned into a Wild West bar, complete with sawdust on the floor and dancers on podiums cracking whips, which was exactly what Gabi would like to do right now.
There was even a bucking bronco machine in the middle of the dance floor.
‘This is more my type of party,’ Gabi said to Amber, before knocking back her drink.
They perched at a free table and halted a passing waiter who was bare-chested, wearing a Stetson and cowboy chaps over his jeans.
He held a tray out towards them with pink shots one side and blue shots the other.
Gabi passed her eyes over his muscly chest and couldn’t help but find it lacking.
‘Cowboy’s Passion’ – he nodded at the blue – ‘or Cowgirl’s Revenge?’ He indicated the pink.
‘Cowgirl’s Revenge,’ she and Amber both said together, taking a glass. They knocked them together and drank.
Rosie appeared a few minutes later, plaits wrapped around her head, milkmaid style. She carried a blue cocktail with her but assured them she was just having the one.
‘Riley has a vomiting bug, again.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘They seem to go round nursery every few weeks. And I can’t cope with that if I’m hungover. Wren has stayed home to look after her tonight, and I’ll do tomorrow.’
Amber squeezed Rosie’s shoulder and Gabi felt a pang at that sisterly bond.
That empathy between one mother and another.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had ever had that feeling.
She wondered if she’d ever have that feeling herself.
She swigged her drink. Doubtful. But where did that leave her? Always on the outside?
Rosie’s phone beeped and she tapped a quick response.
‘Just Toby checking to see how she’s doing.’ She sipped her drink. ‘He says he’ll do tomorrow night if we need him.’
She pocketed her phone again and smiled.
‘He texts her every day or calls,’ Rosie said. ‘We really struck the baby daddy jackpot with him.’
Gabi swigged again. What had she got in the daddy tombola? The booby prize?
‘Let’s hope he texts more than once a month when she’s grown up,’ she said and sipped her drink, surprised to find it finished already. Rosie glanced her way, frowning.
‘Of course he will,’ she said.
‘Or maybe not.’ Gabi sniffed. ‘Just because you think he should, doesn’t mean he will. Dads aren’t all perfect, you know.’
Rosie should know that sometimes things didn’t end up like you thought they might.
That the dad she’d picked for Riley might not live up to her expectations.
Rosie threw a look towards Amber, and Gabi saw Amber do a little shake of her head.
Aha, so it was like that, was it? All the locals sticking together. Gabi, as usual, not part of the gang.
Isabella and Etienne arrived, draped all over each other.
It wasn’t until they sat down that Gabi noticed Walker and Alex behind them in the doorway.
Walker’s T-shirt fit him like a charm and his sandy hair was pushed back from his face.
He looked better than any of the half-naked waiters in the room, even with his clothes on.
Gabi sank her Cowgirl’s Revenge in one gulp.
‘Tell Rosie what’s happening with work, Gabi?’ Amber changed the subject.
Gabi told them about the potential job in America and the interview she’d had.
‘So exciting!’ Amber said. ‘Can you imagine?’ She turned to Rosie. ‘Travelling to America for work rather than walking to the high street or square?’
‘Are you looking forward to it?’ Rosie asked, a lingering look of annoyance on her face.
‘Can’t wait,’ Gabi said. ‘Back to my old life.’ Gabi looked about for a waiter.
Instead, she saw Walker and Alex move towards the bar, talking to a couple of women, one of whom was resting her hand on Walker’s bicep to get his attention.
Gabi’s own fingers curled under the table.
She needed another drink. She half stood to scan the floor.
‘What do you need?’ Amber motioned for her to stay sitting and stood herself. ‘Another Cowgirl’s Revenge?’
‘See if he’s got one called “Fuck Off Fireman”.
’ Gabi laughed, but it tailed off when the girls didn’t join in.
She saw Rosie glance at her and then away.
Just because she thought she was criticising her precious firefighting friend.
‘Anything will do as long as it’s alcoholic,’ she said to Amber, irritation coursing through her.
Amber flagged down a passing waiter and lifted two drinks from his tray. Gabi watched as the girl at the bar laughed wildly at something Walker said. It can’t have been that funny, surely? The woman held on to his arm and laughed harder.
‘You feeling okay, Gabs?’ Isabella appeared beside her. ‘You don’t seem very happy.’
‘Just fed up with being stuck in this pokey pothole of a town,’ she said and felt a sharp pang of regret as Isabella’s eyes widened. ‘Sorry, Issy,’ she said immediately. ‘I’m just frustrated by my leg. I want to get back to real life.’
‘Not long now, although I’ll miss not having you just down the road,’ Isabella said, throwing her arm around her cousin. ‘It will be months before I get to see you again.’ Gabi’s chest hurt. What the hell was the matter with her? Why was everything feeling so weird?
‘In fact, do you think you might be able to get back at Christmas?’ Isabella pulled up a chair. ‘Mamma and Papà are finally coming home from travelling. They’ll be here for the holidays.’
Gabi had a sudden longing for her zio and zia. She hadn’t seen them since the opening of Tutto Mio last year.
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Depends if the film wraps on time.’
‘Hopefully it will,’ Isabella insisted. ‘Then you can come and spend Christmas with us.’
Gabi threw back her drink, watching as Walker and the girl at the bar pulled up stools to talk.
‘Who’s that girl?’ Gabi asked, nodding in their direction. Isabella craned her head.
‘Not sure,’ she said. ‘But I think she’s a firefighter.’