Chapter 8 Gabe
GABE
Gabe sat rink-side, watching his family have fun on the ice.
The entire group was there—his mother, Holly, Trinity, and Aunt Charlie all out there on the ice.
The Christmas family was well represented too: Jack, Jane, and even Julie with her friend William glided past. Logan never strayed far from Charlie’s side, his attention focused on her as if she were the only person on the rink.
Maddy, Isabella, and Christopher rounded out their group, their laughter carrying across the ice.
Gabe smiled, thinking about the shuttle ride to the rink earlier.
The excitement in the air had been palpable, infectious.
Christmas carols had blared from the speakers, and they had all sung along, even him, surprisingly.
He was not usually one for singing, but something about tonight had made him let go of his usual reserve.
His eyes took in the festive lights strung around the rink, the Christmas music blending with the perfect Florida night.
The sky was putting on its own spectacular display, stars sparkling like diamonds scattered across black velvet.
There was something magical about being outdoors in Florida in December, where you could enjoy winter activities without freezing.
His eyes fell on Jane, laughing as Maddy and Trinity carefully guided her along the ice.
She was holding onto both girls for support, her movements cautious but joyful.
His mother had told him that there had been an accident three years ago, and Jane’s husband and unborn daughter had died.
Jane had suffered a bad injury and had to learn to walk again.
Gabe hadn’t asked Jane about it directly.
No, he knew that if and when she wanted to share those details, Jane would tell him.
But he could tell she still had pain from that injury.
He had watched her move in the ballroom as she decorated over the past few days.
Careful not to move in certain ways. He had seen a flinch of pain here, a careful stretch there.
Anyone who didn’t know would have thought it was just a kink from working so hard and leaning in awkward positions.
But Gabe knew better. He recognized an old injury warning its owner not to overdo it.
He laughed out loud, seeing Christopher showing off with some elaborate turn, only to be slapped down by karma as he landed hard on his butt. Isabella, Jane, Maddy, and Trinity were laughing so hard at him that they too nearly hit the ice, wobbling dangerously as they tried to catch their breath.
Gabe’s eyes moved to his Aunt Charlie with Logan.
The man was a good guy, and Gabe was genuinely glad that Charlie had found him.
She was the happiest he had ever seen her, and that was saying something.
Charlie had always been the serious one, the career-focused one.
But Logan brought out a softer side of her that Gabe had not known existed.
Then he looked at his mother with Jack. “Show-offs,” Gabe muttered under his breath as the two of them skated gracefully by, looking like they were doing nothing more than waltzing around a dance floor.
His mother had skated as a kid, so she had an advantage.
And Jack, apparently, had wanted to play ice hockey when he was younger.
That still baffled Gabe. Florida having an ice hockey team when they did not even have snow seemed like some cosmic joke.
But Jack had learned to skate well, and it showed.
Now the two of them were ruling the rink with their grace and prowess while everyone else teetered by like newborn deer.
But his mother was happy, and that was what mattered.
Although the arrival of his father had rolled in a dark cloud over their heads, they were all still trying to do the best they could to not let Simon spoil their magical Christmas.
“Dad!” His thoughts were interrupted by Trinity as she stopped at the side of the rink, slightly breathless. “Please get in the sleigh so we can push you on the ice and you can join us.”
No way. Nope. Uh-uh, Gabe said to himself. That was akin to being in a wheelchair, and he’d had enough of feeling helpless with this broken leg.
“Nah, honey. I’m not big on ice,” Gabe grinned, trying to deflect. “That’s why I live in Florida and enjoy going on desert missions.”
“Ahhhh pleasssse,” Trinity’s face crumpled in that way only a twelve-year-old girl’s could, the disappointment so genuine it physically hurt to witness.
“It’s unfair that I don’t get to skate with you.
Especially when I haven’t seen you in so long and all I want is to do as much with you this holiday as I can. ”
Drat. She played the absent daddy card. Gabe cursed to himself, feeling the guilt settle heavily in his chest. His glance went to Christopher, who was skating the weird-looking sleigh toward where Trinity was standing, a smug look on his face. Isabella, Maddy, and Jane followed him.
“Come on, Gabe,” Jane said, her eyes filled with challenge and something else. Encouragement, maybe. Or understanding. “It will be fun.”
“Yeah, and don’t worry,” Christopher told him cheekily, that grin that made Gabe want to punch him and hug him at the same time. “I’ll be pushing you, so you’ll be in good hands.”
“Sure!” Gabe said resignedly, recognizing defeat when he saw it. Then everyone rushed to help him as he stood and hobbled over to the stupid sleigh. “I’m warning you, Christopher, if I land face-first on the ice...”
“Yeah, yeah.” Christopher grinned wider. “Stop moaning and let’s have some fun.”
And despite his initial reluctance, Gabe had to admit it was fun.
The whole group gathered around as they pushed the sleigh across the ice, skating to the music that flowed from the speakers.
Trinity stayed close to him, her hand on the edge of the sleigh, her face lit up with pure joy.
Christopher was surprisingly careful with his pushing, and Gabe found himself relaxing into the experience.
It got even better when Jane hopped onto the sleigh beside him.
“My back is really done in from decorating,” Jane used as an excuse, settling beside him with a slight grimace. “So, I’m with you in the sleigh for a while.”
“I’m happy to share my throne with you,” Gabe teased, making room for her.
They glided around the rink together, the others skating alongside them.
Holly and Jack performed an impromptu waltz on ice that earned applause from everyone.
Logan attempted to dip Charlie, which nearly sent them both tumbling and left them laughing so hard they had to hold onto each other for support.
Isabella showed Maddy how to do a simple spin, while Trinity tried to copy them with mixed results.
William and Julie skated by sedately, holding hands like teenagers, their faces glowing with contentment. The older couple seemed to set the tone for the entire evening. This was about joy, about family, about being together.
Christopher kept up a running commentary that had everyone in stitches, narrating their skating adventures like a sports announcer.
“And here we see the majestic Gabe Bennett in his natural habitat, the ice sleigh, accompanied by the lovely Jane Christmas. They round the corner with surprising grace...”
“Shut up, Christopher,” Gabe called out, but he was laughing.
As the night wore on, they played games on the ice. A modified version of tag that accommodated Gabe’s sleigh and Jane’s caution. They formed conga lines that inevitably fell apart in fits of laughter. They skated to slow songs and fast songs, Christmas carols and pop hits.
Gabe watched his daughter’s face, memorizing every smile, every laugh. This was what he had been missing during his deployments. These moments. This joy. This simple pleasure of being with the people he loved.
And he watched Jane, too. Watched how she lit up when she successfully completed a circle without holding onto anyone.
Watched how gently she helped Maddy when the younger girl stumbled.
Watched how she threw her head back and laughed at something Isabella said, the sound carrying across the ice like music.
On the way home, everyone piled back into the shuttle, tired and happy and still humming Christmas songs. Gabe and Jane sat right at the back with Trinity between them. Trinity’s head was on Gabe’s shoulder, and she was fast asleep before they even pulled out of the parking lot.
Gabe looked down at his daughter, at the peaceful expression on her face, and felt his heart constrict. He had missed so much. Too much. And the thought that the PEB might decide he could not return to active duty... It should terrify him. His career was everything. Or at least, it had been.
But looking at Trinity sleeping against him and at Jane sitting on her other side, Gabe wondered if maybe losing his career might not be the worst thing that could happen.
“Are we still on for the hospital tomorrow?” Gabe asked Jane softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Trinity.
Jane nodded. “Yes.” She smiled, and even in the dim light of the shuttle, Gabe could see the gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Pamela is not too happy about it.” Gabe remembered hearing her over the phone earlier that day when Jane had told her mother they would be going to the hospital together for Jane’s testing.
Pamela’s voice had been shrill even through the phone, demanding to know who this man was and why he was inserting himself into family business.
“Who cares?” Jane surprised him by saying. There was steel in her voice, a hardness he had not heard before. “This isn’t about her.” She shook her head sadly. “How can someone be so selfish that they make everything about themselves?”
“Narcissists,” Gabe offered, thinking about his own father. “My father’s one.”
Jane sighed, and then she caught his eye. “Have you made your appointment?” Her voice was low, intimate in the quiet shuttle.
Gabe nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I wrote the appointment time, doctor’s name, and everything.”
She took the note, and their fingers brushed. A warm jolt of electricity shot through him at the contact, unexpected and intense. He saw it had affected Jane as well, as her eyes widened slightly and her breath caught.
“It’s a bit of a drive from here, though,” Gabe continued, trying to focus on the practical details and not on the way his skin still tingled where they had touched. “Jacksonville. And it’s four days before Christmas.”
“That’s okay,” Jane told him, pocketing the note carefully. “I’ll drive us there.”
As they pulled up to the inn, everyone began to stir.
Trinity woke slightly as Jack came over and offered to carry her inside.
Gabe allowed him to take her, watching as his daughter’s arms went around Jack’s neck without fully waking.
Christopher gently lifted Maddy, who was also fast asleep.
Isabella had a room at the inn for the night, so they all trooped inside together.
Jane and Gabe were the last two to walk into the inn. As they got into the lobby, everyone was clearing out, heading to their respective rooms with quiet goodnights and tired smiles.
When they were alone in the lobby, Gabe turned to Jane. “See you on the boardwalk tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Jane said with a smile that made his chest feel warm. “You need to finish that masterpiece for your mother.”
Gabe leaned over and kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger for just a moment. “Goodnight, Jane,” he whispered softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
Jane looked up into his eyes and nodded. “I know.” Then she leaned in and kissed him back, her lips brushing against his cheek with a tenderness that nearly made him topple over in surprise.
“Goodnight, Gabe.”
She smiled, turned, and walked through the door that led to the Christmas family’s residence. Gabe stood there for a long moment, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest.
He hobbled toward the stairs, grimacing at the climb ahead. “I had to get a room on the third floor,” he muttered to himself.
When he finally made it to his room, Gabe was exhausted. He pulled out his phone and wallet and set them on the dresser. His wallet hit the edge and fell to the floor, falling open.
As Gabe bent to pick it up, a breeze wafted in from the open window. It was warm and soft, seeming to wrap around him like an embrace. The scent of lilies and vanilla hit him suddenly—Abi’s perfume.
Gabe froze, his hand on the wallet. He was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the Florida night air. A familiar voice whispered, so clear it was as if she were standing right beside him.
“It wasn’t your fault, my love. You need to let it go.”
He glanced down at Abi’s photo in his wallet, his throat constricting with emotion. It was the picture he always carried, Abi laughing at the camera, her eyes full of life and love.
“I’m trying, my love,” Gabe whispered into the empty room. “I’m trying.”
The breeze faded as suddenly as it had appeared, and the room was still again. But Gabe felt something shift inside him. Some burden he had been carrying for six years felt lighter, like Abi had reached across whatever divide separated them and given him permission to live again.
To love again.
Gabe closed the wallet gently, placed it on the dresser, and sat on the edge of the bed. Tomorrow, he would wake early and meet Jane on the boardwalk. They would paint together as the sun rose. And the day after that, they would face their fears together at the hospital.
For the first time in six years, Gabe allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the future held something more than grief and guilt. Maybe it held hope. Maybe it even held happiness.
And maybe, just maybe, Abi would approve.