32. Gabby
32
Gabby
“ M an, this dog is the best!” Alex’s voice echoes from the living room. He walks into the kitchen, unclips Rex’s leash, and hands it to Lucia. “He took me down this side street. I didn’t understand what he was up to, but then, I kid you not, there was this gang of pigeons trying to bully a squirrel. I didn’t even know squirrels lived in the city. But anyway, the squirrel was holding on to a bagel for dear life. With one menacing growl, Rex scared those winged rats off. You should’ve seen all the loose feathers floating in the air as they tried to fly away. This guy is a hero right here and oof—”
I jump up into Alex’s arms, unintentionally knocking the wind out of him. As soon as I feel the comfort of his body flush against mine, I lose what little control I have left and cry into his chest. I’m so sick of crying, but I guess that’s what happens when you bottle up your emotions for over a decade.
“Hey.” He gently strokes my back. “Don’t be sad. The squirrel got to eat his lunch. ”
My sobs turn into laughter at the ridiculousness of what he just said. Behind me, I hear the sound of Lucia trying to compose herself. Then Alex’s chest begins to vibrate.
“You’re such a goof.” I pull away from him.
“But I got ya to stop crying.” He winks.
“That you did,” I agree, feeling lighter than I did before.
“I figured things would be tense when I got back, but the story of the pigeons is true. This guy is a superhero.” He reaches down to pat the top of Rex’s head.
“I have no doubt about it.” Lucia smiles and hangs the leash on a hook. Rex lies down in his crate as if he’s worn out from his heroic efforts.
Alex excitedly recants his adventures of exploring the neighborhood and visiting the local firehouses. He met one guy who was a fourth-generation firefighter and worked at the same firehouse his great-grandfather did. “It’s like they were born with it in their blood, but I’m babbling on. Do you need more time? Should I go wander around some more?”
“No. It’s all good, Alex. My aunt has filled me in on everything and you won’t believe it when I tell you.”
As we move into the kitchen, I reiterate what Lucia told me about my parents. My heart melts as he listens intently to my story. He’s invested and wants to know my history.
“Your parents sound like amazing people,” he says in awe when I finish.
“They really were.” I slide my seat up closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“I do have one question, though.” Alex turns to Lucia. “You said you knew Gabby existed. How did you know that if they never came back?”
“Ah!” Lucia taps her head. “We were so emotional I forgot about that part. Hold on a moment.”
She leaves the kitchen. A moment later, she reemerges with a metal lockbox and places it on the table. After opening it, she pulls out an old envelope and hands it to me.
Inside is a single photograph of an infant in a lilac onesie with a full head of curly black hair. I’ve seen similar pictures to know this is me. Besides, Mari came out bald. I flip it over to read the caption on the back, ‘Gabriella is happy and healthy. We are so in love with her.’ I let my finger trace my father’s handwriting. It’s been so long since I’ve seen it.
“Alex.” I gasp. “Look! This is me as a baby.” I practically shove it in his face.
“Aww.” He pulls it away from his eyes to study it. “You were cute. I guess your love of purple started young, eh?”
“Oh yeah, I drove my parents nuts. I had this lavender overall set that I insisted on wearing all the time. My poor mother had to handwash it in the sink because waiting until laundry day to wear it again was unbearable.”
“They never wrote letters.” Lucia hands me the next envelope. “Only a single picture with a sentence or two on the back. There was never a return address, and all the envelopes were postmarked from different areas of the Southwest. We knew they did it that way to keep you safe. When the letters stopped coming, we knew something had to have happened.”
“Oh my!” My heart sputters as I look at the next picture. It’s of me, sitting between my parents. A birthday cake with a number one candle is displayed before us.
“It hurt so much when they left, but seeing their bright smiles in the pictures they sent gave my parents reassurance that they did the right thing.”
“Do you know what happened to King?” Alex asks as I pass the photo on to him and grab the next envelope.
“Sadly, he outlived Miguel and Caterina. From what I heard, he went to live in a state-run nursing home and passed away about four years ago. That man burned a lot of bridges during his life. It’s not like he had people chomping at the bit to take care of him.”
“So he was never involved in anything nefarious? His name’s not, like, on a list or something?” Alex asks. Leave it to my protector to get down to business. Though I have to admit, thanks to Michelle’s theories, those thoughts crossed my mind as well. I hope I’m not in any danger by revealing myself.
“Oh no. You mean like the mob?” Alex nods at Lucia’s question and she smiles and answers, “No, no. He was the last of his family line here in the States. Caterina’s family was small, but for some reason, I recall there might be some family back in Mexico—but honestly, dear, I don’t know that for a fact and may be speaking out of turn.” Interesting. I’ll have to let Jax know that. See if he can find out anything more. But for right now? I’m content with what I know.
I continue thumbing through the pictures, feeling joy return to my heart. I thought seeing my family again might open up more wounds, but instead, it makes me feel closer to them, to Lucia, and to Alex, who’s enjoying this experience with me.
“Oh, it’s Mari!” I gasp when I pull out the next picture of my two-year-old self holding my baby sister. The caption of the back reads, “Marisol was born right before Gabriella turned two. They are going to be the best of friends!”
“Look at that,” Alex says, leaning over my shoulder and reading the caption. “You were best friends.”
“It’s so good to see them all again.” I hug the picture against my heart with a renewed surge of energy. I feel so alive.
“I have had these pictures for a long time. I think maybe it’s time they go to a new owner.” Lucia reaches across the table and pats my hand. I’d told Lucia all about the fire. That I wasn’t there, as well as my self-imposed guilt. As expected, she scolded me and told me they’re in a better place, and I totally agree. Knowing I have an aunt here with me makes all the difference in the world. Not to mention a man who’s proven he’d do anything for me. I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.
“Do you mean it? I can have them?” I scoop up the rest of the contents from the box. “I’ll make copies so you can have them too.”
“I can scan them to make a digital file. That way you’ll never have to worry about losing them,” Alex offers.
“That’s a great idea,” Lucia agrees, clapping her hands with joy.
“I just noticed something…” I continue to flip through the envelopes. “I can’t speak for the first few years because I was too little to remember, but these postmarks—the location and dates—are from the road trips we used to take.”
“Sounds like your parents were very efficient. They found a way to safely contact their family while making memories with you and Mari.” Alex thumbs through some more pictures I hand him. “I wish I could’ve met them.”
“Me too. My parents and Mari would’ve adored you, but…” I trail off as realization hits. “We would have never known each other.”
“Hmm?” Alex looks up at me.
“If my family were still alive and well, I would’ve never left Phoenix.”
“Meaning we wouldn’t have met,” he finishes my thought.
“It sounds to me like fate brought you two together.” Lucia looks between us.
Alex puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “I hate that in order for us to meet, you had to endure a horrific tragedy.”
“Me too.” I thread my hand through his. “But I couldn’t have asked for a better person to bring me out of my darkness.”