Chapter 3
THREE
GABE
Hallie Foster has been avoiding me.
Ten days ago, I saw her for the first time in ten years. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what I’d say when I inevitably ran into her again. When she wouldn’t be able to hide from me.
Try as I may, I haven’t been able to completely cut her out of my life.
She is my twin sister’s best friend, after all.
I’d have to move across the planet—possibly even to another one entirely—to escape any mention of her.
At first, that’s what I’d wanted, to avoid her.
To stew in my embarrassment. But soon that just became the dull pang of missing her, and I clung to any scraps I could.
A little of Hallie was better than none of her at all.
But standing here now, she is both everything and nothing like the girl I remember.
Her blonde hair falls in rivers of gold over her shoulders, far longer than it was a decade ago.
The ends are now a pretty lavender shade, dyed sometime since I saw her at Delilah’s exhibition.
Her eyes are still that captivating baby blue.
And her body… Hallie has been away from Kip Island for ten years, and in that time she transformed into the physical manifestation of every single one of my dreams. She’s always been beautiful, but there’s something about the flare of her hips that makes me want to grab hold of them and never let go.
“It’s been a long time, Foster.”
Her eyelashes flutter as she closes her eyes for half a second, as if bracing against my voice. When they open again, her gaze meets mine. “Gabriel.”
“What are you doing here?”
What do you think she’s doing, idiot? You’re at the fucking grocery store .
She sets a hand on her cart and flashes me a shy smile. “Your sister sent me to do her dirty work. By the time I’m done, we’ll be able to feed the whole island for a week.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like Clara. Anything to avoid shopping.” If there’s one thing my sister despises, it’s picking up groceries.
“I don’t mind,” Hallie is quick to say. “She has been letting me crash at her place, so I’ll happily be her errand girl.”
A beat of silence passes between us. It’s insidious, a trap to make us think we’re strangers. But we are far from strangers, so I scramble to fill the quiet.
Pointing to her hair, I say, “I like that colour. It’s nice.”
It’s nice ? The only thing worse than silence is small talk. That’s a death sentence .
“Oh. Thank you.”
Hallie touches the ends of her hair, and for some strange reason, it reminds me of Trina. Because the two women truly couldn’t be any more different, and I’m beginning to wonder why I ever thought Trina might be a good idea. Not that there’s anything wrong with her, but she’s…not Hallie.
I rock back on my heels. “I bet Pops is happy to have you home.”
At the mention of her grandfather, some of the tension coiled in her body melts away. “He is. Clara and I went to see him a couple days ago. He wiped the floor with both of us when we played cards, as per usual.”
“Things have been busy lately, so I haven’t had the chance to see him in a while, but he’s certainly kept my card skills sharp.”
Her lips part, and I try not to let the visual go to my head. “You visit Pops?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She shakes her head. “It’s not often, but I try to go a couple times a month. I figured someone should.”
She stiffens at the implication, and any ease to this conversation has officially been lost. Shit, shit, shit . That definitely did not come out the way I wanted it to. My mouth and brain seem to be operating at different speeds today.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, I?—”
“It’s alright,” she says, but it doesn’t feel alright. It feels like I’ve torn open a wound that barely had time to scab over. “I should get going. Lots to do. It was good to see you.”
“Foster, wait. I?—”
“Daddy!”
Little pink shoes slap against the tiled floor, and then Abbie skids to a stop in front of me, holding up a box of cereal. Or a box of sugar labelled as cereal, but it’s all the same to her.
Unaware of Hallie’s presence, my daughter waves the box at me. “Can I get this? Please .”
My eyes flick back up to Hallie, but all I see is her retreating back. Damn it . With a sigh, I turn my focus to Abbie.
Taking the box from her, I eye the packaging. “Does your mom buy this for you?”
She clasps her hands together, staring up at me with an angelic smile. She nods. “Uh huh. All the time!”
I almost scoff at that. Larissa shops exclusively in the organic section. She probably doesn’t even buy plain Cheerios, let alone whatever this is.
Arching a brow, I ask, “Are you lying, Abigail?”
To her credit, Abbie doesn’t break right away. This isn’t the first standoff I’ve had with her, and it sure as shit won’t be the last. But I take comfort in winning these battles now because I know it won’t be so easy in a few years.
Her shoulders drop. “Yes,” she admits. “But it looks so yummy! Daddy, please?”
I hand the box to her as I shake my head. “Nice try, dude. Put it back.”
With a frown, she snatches the cereal and heads down the aisle. I watch her push up onto the tips of her toes to slide the box back onto the shelf. Then she stomps back over to my side, her little arms crossed.
I nudge her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go pick something out for dinner. I think Mom’s coming over after her shift.”
Her eyes light up at that. Even though we split custody, Larissa and I make it a point to spend time together with Abbie when we can. The early days were a little rough, but now we have our routines and everyone is happy.
Abbie declares she wants pasta, so we head into the next aisle to find some sauce and the pasta shells. I begin to scan the shelves, looking for our usual brand.
“ Oh , I want this,” Abbie says from behind me, still standing out in the main aisle.
I turn just as she sets her hand on a can of Alpha-getti. At the very bottom of the too-tall display. I suck in a breath, reaching out to stop her, but it’s too late.
Abbie tugs on the Alpha-getti, pulling it free. Which sends the rest of them crashing down.
All I see is a flash of blonde and lavender before Hallie swoops in and pulls Abbie out of the path of rogue aluminum as the cans careen to the floor. It’s like dominoes, one falling after the other. When they hit the ground, they start rolling, amplifying the mess. And the noise.
“Oops.” Abbie, standing safe at Hallie’s side, still clutches her can. She finds my eyes. “Sorry, Daddy.”
I sigh, taking a second to close my eyes. They pop open when I hear angry footsteps marching down the adjacent aisle. Then Gordon appears. His face is the colour of a radish, and his balding head shines under the fluorescent lights.
He looks from the destruction, to Abbie, to me. “I expect you to pay for the damages,” he clips. “We can’t sell dented cans.”
“I’ll pay,” I assure him. “And we’ll help clean up.”
The store manager only crosses his arms, supervising as Abbie and I start picking up the cans. An employee takes pity on us and brings a shopping cart over for the damaged ones to be set aside. Hallie jumps right in without a word, working to build the display back up to its former glory.
“Honestly,” Gordon mutters. I wonder if he thinks he’s talking under his breath. “I should just ban children from the store altogether.”
I bristle at that. Hallie does, too.
“Gordon,” she calls. “What happens with the food you can’t sell?”
He shrugs. “We throw it away.”
Her head shoots up, meeting his gaze. “You don’t donate it?”
Gordon’s lip curls. “No.”
When all is said and done, we managed to save most of the display, but there are more than a handful of cans Gordon deems unacceptable to sell to his customers. He goes to take the cart up to the front, likely to make sure I don’t leave without paying, but Hallie grabs it from him.
“If you’re making Gabe pay for these, then he should get to take them home,” she says.
Gordon sighs. “Fine.” He stalks away, barking instructions at another one of his employees.
“Foster, I don’t need fifty cans of alphabet pasta.”
“I know.” She watches Gordon’s retreating back, then lifts her gaze to mine. “But the food bank does.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe he’d waste perfectly good food like that.”
I snort. “Have you met Gordon? It’s pretty on-brand for him.” Then I soften. “Thank you.”
She offers me a shy smile. “You’re welcome.” Grabbing her own cart, she starts to inch backward. “Well, I’ll see you around.”
I swallow. “See you around,” I echo. Then I watch her walk away. Again.
On our drive home from the store, we stop at the island’s small food bank, and it becomes the proud owner of fifty-three slightly dented cans of Alpha-getti.
I hear the front door open and shut just as I finish loading the dishwasher.
“Hi!” Larissa offers me a bright smile as she rounds the corner into the kitchen, as if she didn’t just get off a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. “Whoa,” she says when she sees my expression. “What’s with the face?”
A lot of people have trouble co-parenting with their exes. It drudges up drama and hurt feelings, and the kids get caught in the middle. Larissa and I have never been like that. Maybe because we were never together to begin with.
We went to high school together, and we had a few of the same friends.
I drove down to St. Catharines to visit some of them one weekend while she was in undergrad, one thing led to another, and about nine months later, I was holding our daughter in my arms. We only slept together that one time, then we both agreed we were better off as friends.
“What happened to you?” I counter. “Did you slip a few of your patients’ happy pills when the other nurses weren’t looking?”
She rolls her eyes, hip-checking me out of the way so she can pour herself a glass of wine, which she left here the last time she was over. “This is all-natural, honey. Can’t I simply be happy?”
She leans back against the counter, glass in hand. That’s when I notice the rock on her ring finger.
“Oh, fuck. He finally did it, eh?”
Larissa beams. “Yeah. Last night.”
Chris has been in the picture since Abbie was about two. Larissa had been hesitant to start dating again after becoming a mom, but when she and Chris hit it off at the gym one week, I encouraged her to give it a shot. Four years later, here they are.
I pull her against my side for a hug. “Happy for you, Riss. You gonna tell Abbie?”
She nods. “That’s why I wanted to come over tonight. I couldn’t stand waiting until tomorrow.” She offers me an apologetic smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I wave off her concern. “You know I don’t.” I nod toward the stairs. “She’s up in her room.”
Larissa sets her wine glass down, turning to leave. But then she stops and studies me. “You sure you’re okay?”
I cross my arms, leaning against the island. I know I won’t get out of this without spilling, so I might as well get it over with. “Hallie’s back.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, Gabe…”
No one knows what happened between me and Hallie before she left.
No one except Larissa. On one particularly sleep- deprived night when Abbie was a newborn, everything came tumbling out.
My daughter’s mother seemed like an objective enough third party that wouldn’t try to get involved like my family would.
“Don’t look at me like that. That’s in the past.” I wince. “But I saw her at the store earlier and…accidentally implied she’s been neglecting her grandfather.”
“ Gabe ,” she gasps.
Again, I wave off Larissa’s concern. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Go give Abbs the good news.”
After another skeptical look in my direction, she heads for the stairs. With a sigh, I rub a hand down my face.
I thought the island was small before, but having to share it with Hallie when she wants nothing to do with me makes it feel fucking tiny.