by Amy Pine
“I’m awake,” she whispered.
“Sorry,” he whispered back. “I tried to let you sleep.”
She propped herself up on her elbows, the sheet slipping off her chest and exposing her bare breasts. She turned on the lamp next to the bed, and Ethan let out something that sounded like a cough.
“Do you have to get dressed right now?” she asked.
He strode toward his side of the bed, the one nearest the door, and stood there for a long moment.
“I have a meeting at eight,” he said, which didn’t answer her question.
“It’s only a little after six. And the train station is a short walk.” Gabi raised her brows.
He grinned. “Yeah, but I haven’t even turned on the coffeemaker. A guy needs his caffeine. And maybe a quick breakfast.”
She nodded, her gaze pensive. “I see. I see. Yes, this all makes perfect sense.” Then she scooted over to his side of the bed and unhooked his towel, revealing that he was in no way ready for coffee or breakfast, let alone sliding into a pair of pants.
“I think we might need to take care of this before you go to work,” she teased. Then wrapped a hand around him.
Ethan hissed in a breath.
“Gabi,” he growled. “What about—” He lost his words for a second but then placed his hand over hers. “Wait. Shit. Wait. Gabi. Are we going to talk about what’s been going on with you this week? I feel like something has been bothering you since you went to Miriam’s office.”
Her pulse quickened. Okay…Looked like they were doing this now. “I think I want to—” No. Wait. This could be a good thing. An amazing thing. She and Ethan fell for each other while seeing a small slice of the world. What if they could do it again? Together. “How do you feel about traveling more? Like doing what we did this summer again sometime?” She was dancing around the subject, sure. But baby steps were still steps.
His brows furrowed. “Do you mean for a honeymoon or something? You’re still on board with postponing that until I’ve been at the job for at least six months, right? Europe might be tough to swing on only a week or two, but if that’s what my soon-to-be-bride wants, I’ll make it happen. I’m not sure what this has to do with what’s been going on with you.” He glanced down to where she was still gripping him in her palm. “You’re making it very hard for me to think right now, so I’m not exactly connecting the dots.”
Her heart sank. He had a job. A career. One he couldn’t just up and leave. If she left for any length of time, she’d be leaving him.
What was she doing? She couldn’t become an instant replay of her parents. The plan had always been not to do that. She could, however, assure the man before her that she loved him and send him off to work with a smile. Gabi raised a brow. “Are you saying you don’t enjoy daily sex with your fiancée?” She hoped her feeble attempt at humor was enough to change the subject.
He laughed. “It’s the best part of each and every one of my days. And twice on Sunday. But something’s been up since you went to Miriam’s office Saturday, and I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk about it. I’m here for the fun stuff and the not-so-fun stuff. Okay?”
“We could talk. Sure. Talking is great. Or…” She threw the sheet off of her completely, revealing her naked body, and Ethan swore.
“You don’t play fair, Bloom,” he said.
She gave him a self-satisfied grin. “As long as I win, that’s all that matters.”
He climbed over her, and she was ready to grab a condom from the box that still lay on his nightstand from the night before, but he surprised her by pushing open her legs, throwing the sheet over his head, and kissing a trail down the length of her torso until he’d gone a bit south of her navel.
Gabi gasped, then fisted her hands in the sheet at her sides.
“Now who’s not playing fair?” she squeaked, but Ethan only responded by working harder and faster until she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
There would be time to talk later. Besides, a couple who was this good at doing what they were doing right now could make it through anything, right? What did she have to worry about?
Nothing, she thought. Not one damned thing.
* * *
Gabi had only worked until two o’clock, so she’d headed back to the city to wait for Ethan—who ended up running late at work.
I’ll meet you at your mom’s. Sorry. It’s an important client, and I want to make a good first impression.
So Gabi met Miriam at the Ogilvie train station to ride to Highland Park together.
“Guess who?” Gabi asked, sneaking up behind her friend on the platform and covering Miriam’s eyes with her hands.
“Uh, you better be my best friend who is going to let me gorge on cake with her. Otherwise I should let you know that I have pepper spray on my key chain, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Gabi groaned and released her friend, who spun to greet her.
“Do you remember when you came to visit me at school and someone’s pepper spray went off in the bar?” Gabi said, recalling the painful experience not-so-fondly.
Miriam raised her brows. “And yet you risk me inflicting such misery on you point-blank by accosting me on a train platform?”
Gabi nudged her shoulder against Miriam’s. “Look at you,” she teased. “Such a city girl now. I leave for a summer and you’re this whole new person.” She swallowed. “And I’m—”
She was saved from spilling her guts by the train doors sliding open and all of the reverse commuters piling onto the train.
“Can we ride up top?” Gabi asked, grateful for a subject change and grabbing her friend by the wrist.
Miriam rolled her eyes but nodded and followed Gabi up the narrow staircase to the upper deck. They plopped into two seats facing each other, Gabi taking the one that would mean riding backward. That way she could see the city skyline for as long as the clear sky would permit as they made their way back into the suburbs.
“I do enjoy your unironic earnest,” Miriam said, laughing as she plugged her phone into the charger on the wall beneath her seat. “How even though you’re all grown up, you’re the same Gabi I’ve loved since we were kids.”
Gabi shifted in her seat, the word same niggling at her more than it should.
“What?” Miriam asked, apparently reading her mind.
“Nothing,” Gabi said. “It’s just hot out, right?”
Miriam narrowed her eyes. “It only got up to sixty today. It’s actually finally starting to feel like fall. Try again.”
Gabi blew out a breath just as the train lurched forward and began to move. “This is supposed to be a fun night. There’s going to be cake. Lots of cake. Why ruin it by talking about anything other than cake?”
Miriam’s eyes were nothing but slits now.
“We’ve got at least thirty minutes until we are anywhere near cake, which means at least thirty minutes for you to spill whatever it is that made you flee my office.” She cleared her throat. “Unless, of course, you’re sharing all of your deep dark secrets with Ethan now and don’t need me anymore.” She batted her dark lashes dramatically.
Gabi’s mouth fell open. “Wait, you’re kidding, right? Because you know I’ll always need you. Like, forever and ever.”
Miriam crossed her arms. “Yes. Of course. I was kidding. But maybe also fishing for your declaration of undying love. Now that I have it, please proceed.”
Gabi took a steadying breath. “Okay. Here goes. So, you know how I’m the one who always had a plan? I took all the right classes in high school to get into the college I wanted. I got my degree, I did the whole backpack-across-Europe thing to quench any sort of wanderlust, and now I’m working at the mall as a means to an end—the end I always thought I wanted. Safety. Stability. And…And even though I wasn’t looking for him, I found Ethan, and he fits right into that plan. He loves me. He’s got a good job. He’s not going anywhere, and—”
“And you would be spinning
your wheels if you continued in the direction you’re going,” Miriam interrupted.
“Yes!” Gabi pointed at her friend like she’d just solved the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune, winning thousands of dollars. “Why didn’t I see it?”
Miriam huffed out a laugh. “You spent so many years not wanting to end up like your mom that you didn’t realize you were your dad. But guess what, Bloom? Wanting to see the world isn’t a crime. It wasn’t when your dad did it, and it won’t be if you do it. What happened with your parents is their story, not yours. And not Ethan’s. You can figure this out, but if you give in to the fear, you might miss out on something great.”
Gabi’s mouth fell open. “Wow. You should have been a therapist instead of a graphic designer because that is some seriously insightful shit that just came out of your mouth. Tell me more, oh wise one with all her shit together. What do I do now?”
“First of all,” Miriam said, “I’m in therapy, and Cheri is fantastic, so maybe some of her insight rubs off on me. Second, none of us have our shit totally together. Maybe I’m living my most authentic life right now, but I haven’t been completely honest with you, Bloom.” She sighed. “My parents aren’t speaking to me,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s why I’m not doing Shabbat dinner with them anymore.” She shrugged. “They told me they love me but that they need some time to come to terms with my choices”—she put finger quotes around the words—“and that until they do, they wanted to have some space. From their own daughter. The point I’m trying to make is that being true to yourself doesn’t mean everything’s going to work out all nice and pretty, tied up with a bow. But it does mean less regret or resentment, and I think we can all raise a glass to that.”
Gabi’s heart squeezed, but she didn’t know what to say.
“I—I’m sorry,” she finally stammered.
Miriam shrugged. “The funny thing is, I don’t think it has as much to do with my sexual identity as it does the fact that I was honest with them about the whole extramarital-sex thing—and my ardent practice of it. But the only way I can be sure who I truly am is to get out there and live every part of my life to the goddamned fullest and not feel sorry for myself if it doesn’t all go my way.” She raised a brow at her friend.
Gabi blew out a long breath. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes me look kind of pouty and immature.”
Miriam pressed her lips into a pout, and Gabi laughed.
“Your words,” Miriam said. “Not mine. But honestly, there will always be some sort of sacrifice or compromise to live your authentic life. For me, it was my relationship with my parents—for now. But it will get better. For your mom and dad, it was their marriage. But look at them now. They’re friends, right? And for you and Ethan? It doesn’t have to mean The End. It just might mean something different from what you thought.”
“I just—” Gabi started. “He has this career now, and I know that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve mine. But I made a commitment to marry him, and I want to marry him. I guess…I don’t know…From the time I was old enough to get it, I got it—that my mom had a plan that went wildly off course when I came along. She gave up a lot so that I could have everything I needed. I feel like if I mess up now, it’s not just myself I’m letting down. It’s her too.”
Miriam toed Gabi’s foot with her own. “So don’t mess up. Talk to Ethan. Figure this out. And take your next steps. He made a commitment to you too, and that commitment shouldn’t come with conditions.”
Gabi worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You make it sound so easy. It’s not just figuring things out with Ethan, but it’s changing my whole career path, my whole life.”
“So?” Miriam nodded toward the bag slung across Gabi’s torso. “Your laptop in there?”
“Yeah…Why?”
“Then show me what you got. My phone is charging, and I have unlimited data, so we can use it as a hot spot. Let’s get that portfolio going so we can ship you off to your next location but with someone paying you to do it next time.”
With her heart in her throat, Gabi pulled her laptop out of her bag and fired it up, jumping onto Miriam’s hot spot and opening the EUROPE folder.
“Shit, Bloom,” Miriam said, her eyes wide as she started scrolling through photos.
Gabi winced. “It’s okay. Just say it. I can take it.” Maybe what Gabi saw as her art was more like a dumpster fire to a third-party observer.
Miriam looked at her with unabashed incredulity.
“What? Oh God. It’s that bad?” Gabi asked. “You’re the brand ambassador. Can you help me turn the photos into something that screams Professional Photojournalist instead of Amateur Mall Photographer?
Miriam backhanded her on the shoulder. “I swear if we weren’t on public transportation I’d have just Moonstruck you right across the face.”
Gabi’s brows furrowed.
“Snap out of it!” Miriam said in the best 1980s Cher she could muster. “This is good, Bloom. Like really freaking good. I mean, I always knew you could take a photo, but holy hell.” She pointed at the image of the rainy street in Galway, the one she’d taken the first day of her trip—the day she’d met Ethan and her carefully planned life had veered off course. “I don’t even know where this is, and I want to be there right now even though I know my hair would frizz the second it hit that damp air. We can do some work with fonts and captions—and maybe work with a really clean menu layout to keep a natural flow going—but I’d hire you right now if I could.”
Since she’d returned home, she’d been too scared to question how things had changed since letting Ethan into her life. Scared to admit to herself that maybe, possibly, losing her heart had done what she’d always feared it would—caused her to lose her way. But here was Miriam saying otherwise, pointing at the exact image where her planning had shifted course and reminding her that she didn’t have to sacrifice her dreams to keep her heart safe.
Maybe Gabi didn’t understand or believe in magic like her dad did, but there on the screen was photographic evidence that maybe, possibly, there was more than one right path for her.
They bounded off the train and decided to walk to Gabi’s house, the weather clear and crisp without yet being cold.
She felt refreshed, renewed, even, as she practically skipped up the steps to the front door and pushed her way inside.
“We’re here!” she called out, and was only mildly shocked when her father pushed through the kitchen’s saloon doors. After all, he’d never say no to cake, so she guessed it made sense that he was here.
It was her mom limping out behind him, a crutch under one arm and an air cast on the corresponding leg.
“Oh my God,” Gabi said. “What happened? And—and why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Alissa forced a smile and held out her free hand as if to say Ta da!
“Surprise!” she said instead. “Come on in. It’s kind of a funny story…”
Chapter Twenty-One
Alissa’s gaze volleyed between Matt, who looked about as nervous as she felt, and Gabi, who just looked stunned.
She hadn’t wanted to worry Gabi with details about her little accident the other night since she knew she’d be seeing her today, but she realized now how odd it must look for Matthew to be here and for him to already be in the know. They just kept digging themselves deeper, which twisted her stomach into knot after knot. But Gabi had so much going on already without her parents throwing their messy reunion into her face.
Tonight was about cake.
“Come in. Come in.” She gestured at the two younger women who were still hovering in the doorway. “I broke my ankle. I’m not contagious.”
She didn’t think her daughter’s eyes could get any wider, but Gabi proved her wrong.
“Broke your ankle? When? I just talked to you before I got to the train station. You didn’t say anything.”
Gabi put her bag on the ground, and Miriam did the same. They strode through the living room to where Alissa a
nd Matt were waiting by a dining room table covered in plates, all topped with different slices of cake.
“Sit,” Alissa said. “Grab a plate and a fork. Oh! Wait! I forgot the champagne. At the wedding, you’ll be washing it down with champagne, right? So we have to make sure the bubbly and the dessert go well together.”
She spun to hobble back into the kitchen—anything to give her a few more seconds to plan what, exactly, they were going to say to Gabi. It wasn’t like she and Matt had rehearsed their story. They’d simply agreed to leave certain parts out, but now that it was time to say it out loud, she wasn’t sure where to begin.
Telling their daughter that her father was drunk on the porch waiting for Alissa to get home from her date would only complicate the issue.
“I’ll get it,” Matt said. “You should sit,” he added, raising his brows. “Miriam, why don’t you help me? There are a couple of different bottles, and I could use a hand.”
Miriam bounced on her Doc-Marten-clad toes. “You got it, Mr. B. Anything to escape the awkward going on in here right now.” She nudged Gabi with her shoulder and grinned, then took off through the swinging doors into the kitchen with Gabi’s father.
Gabi crossed her arms and gave Alissa a pointed look.
Alissa blew out a breath. “It happened Saturday night. After my date. It was silly. I was wearing wedges and rolled my ankle and—well, the rest is history. Your dad was close by, so he took me to the emergency room. It’s fine. See?” She waved the crutch and put all her weight on her booted foot, wincing a little bit less than she had yesterday. “Totally fine.”
“Saturday night?” Gabi asked. “Mom. It’s Wednesday. Why didn’t you say anything? I—I could have been here to help you. I mean, what have you been doing since then? How are you getting to work?”
She could hear more than worry in her daughter’s tone. She heard the same thing she’d been feeling herself—that since Gabi had come home, they’d gone from Alissa and Gabi to virtual strangers. She knew this would happen eventually, that her little girl—the center of her universe—would one day leave. But it was all happening so fast, and Alissa was partly to blame.