He swallowed thickly before he turned his head away thinking that this one of the shittiest days of his life.
"I'll own up, but I'm never gonna be with you Trish. Not ever."
"Fuck you, asshole!" Trish yelled as she stomped to the front door. "You're gonna pay, mother fucker."
"Yeah," he mumbled, flicking the deadbolt closed and shaking his head as he moved to the bedroom where Crys, his future, was waiting.
He made his way back to the bedroom and saw that Crys was emptying the closet, his drawers into the suitcases he'd moved in with.
"You heard?" he said, moving to her side of the bed.
"Yeah, Baby, I heard," she said, her eyes still on the shirt she was folding. "Sucks to be you today, huh?"
"You ain't kidding," he said softly.
*.*.*.*.*
I was playing it off, the hit my heart had taken just listening to her tell Gabe she was pregnant. She wasn't much of a woman if she was anything like the bitch I'd seen today.
She was pretty, I'll give her that with her thick copper hair and green eyes. She was a couple inches taller than me but that might have been her boots. Her boots that probably cost more than my entire closet. She was dressed to the nines in the costly shit, or maybe it just looked money to my hillbilly eyes.
She looked very expensive and with even a short glance I knew she was high maintenance.
I didn't see what Gabe saw in her, what he had found attractive.
But I knew she lost when she took a pot-shot at me. Gabe never allowed anyone to talk bad about me, even if what they were saying was the truth. According to him, he'd tried to defend me with both his mouth and his fists but was beat down. Then he'd allowed it and told me he was ashamed he'd allowed it. Especially with his girlfriends.
When I'd first been diagnosed with all the learning disabilities they'd assigned to me, I was removed from the 'normal' classroom and put into remedial.
A lot of kids thought it was a perfect time to get to me; to get at me. Gabe, though, disagreed. And he'd disagreed with his fists, his mouth.
I was avenged, each and every time.
Nope, Gabe wouldn't ever take anyone speaking bad about me.
Never had, probably never would.
'Hillbilly' was not something I'd ever been called before. Although, I could work the hillbilly angle. Probably make it pretty freaking cool, too.
We spent the rest of the day getting his shit together and cleaning the apartment. We fell into bed, exhausted and I know I was practically asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
He still didn't seemed too concerned about Trish the next morning, though, as we finished packing everything up to tote it back to Grantham. I looked at the pile of boxes and suitcases sitting by the front door.
That's it? His life was in three good sized boxes and two suitcases?
Gabe must have noticed I was staring at the sum of his life because he came over and tucked me under his arm.
"Not much to show for my time here, huh?" he asked.
"Didn't you bring stuff from your Dad's when you moved?" I asked. It made no sense to me that he had so little.
"Remember, Crys. I left very, uhm, abruptly and only took some clothes and my guitar. Brought those back with me when I returned."
I know I must have looked silly just staring at him blinking. Is that how he remembered it?
"You fucking ran, Gabe," I said. "If you're man enough to do it, you're man enough to say it."
It was true.
He and Benny had gotten into it at the fancy luncheon to celebrate Gabe's graduation. They were nose-to-nose in the dining room at the Roses, both their faces red, muscles straining before Gabe finally turned on his heel and left. None of us knew that he left town until a couple of days later.
We hoisted everything in the back of the truck and were just dropping off the keys with Bert, the manager of the apartments, when my phone rang.
"Hey, Dex," I answered.
"You gotta come home, Crys," he said, his voice sounding rough.
"What's going on?"
"It's your house, Baby Girl," he said after a couple of beats of silence. "Somebody tried to torch your house."
*.*.*.*.*
Gabe saw Crys's face drain of color as she mumbled into the phone that they'd be home as fast as possible.
"Baby?" he asked.
"It was Dex. Someone tried to burn my house," she said, her voice flat, emotionless. She was processing and we were too far away to do anything about it.
He put the truck in gear and made it to the interstate to get the hell home.
He tried thinking of a way to get her home faster, but even flying would take a while since neither Eugene nor Grantham were on any direct airline routes. You'd have to connect with other flights and then shoot for Durango before driving to Grantham.
"Minimal stops, Kitten," he said, glancing at her, her eyes covered by a large pair of shades since they were driving straight into the sun.
Gabe knew that the drive home was going to be a lot different than the ride they'd intended. Crys was going to be in shut down mode since she was taking a hit on two fronts, her house and the place she'd inherited from her dad. The unchanged place that had worried Gabe a few nights ago.
The cab was silent for hundreds of miles. Gabe had considered trying the radio but they were moving through the mountains and, since the truck only had an A.M. band, reception would be spotty at best.
He'd talked her into eating a banana with a diet soda right before they'd crossed into Utah from Idaho, but she only ate half and the soft drink's ice melted before she'd even taken a few sips.
She had her head back and her legs stretched up on the console but her face was still pointed away from Gabe. He didn't take offense, he knew her like he knew the back of his hand.
She was hurting and she wasn't looking to anyone that could make it better. She was just processing.
Gabe watched as she took a call from Marianne just outside of Ogden. Marianne had heard about it from Ram and was glad to know that Crys hadn't been home when it had occurred. He was surprised Crys hadn't asked Marianne any questions or for pictures or anything.
She held the phone out to him.
"Hey, Marianne," he said into the phone glancing to see Crys turning her face back to the passenger window.
"Is she okay, Gabe?" Marianne asked.
"Uh, not really."
"Do you know when you'll be home?" she asked.
"Not for another ten, maybe eleven hours," he explained.
"Let us know if we can do anything. Anything at all," he heard Marianne's voice break. Crys had some amazing friends. "She's welcome to come stay at Ram's house."
His heart froze. They didn't even know if Crys's house was livable?
Oh, shit.
"Ah, is that something that needs to be, uhm, thought of now?" he asked, trying to ask without Crys hearing the question.
"Truthfully? I don't know, I haven't been out there. But Ram's the one that made the suggestion and he was there this morning. So, maybe?" Marianne hedged and Gabe was again impressed by the closeness of their friendship which obviously extended to the posse's partners and significant others.
"Keep her safe and get her home as fast as possible," Marianne instructed. "Has she shut down?"
"Yeah," Gabe breathed, comforted that she'd caught on to that in the little conversation that had gone on between her and Crys.
"Okay. If you need us, you call, alright?"
"Yeah, Marianne. Thanks. Talk to you later," he mumbled before handing the phone back to Crys. She didn't even look as she took the phone and shoved it in her back pocket.
"Why don't you sleep, Kitten?" he suggested.
"Can't, Gabe," her voice was rough, but still held a flat monotone.
They kept driving in silence, only hitting traffic just outside of Salt Lake City during rush hour.
Dusk found them gassing up again, doing the bathroom thing and Gabe grabbing a couple o
f burgers and fries at the fast food place inside the truck stop.
"I'm getting sleepy, Crys," Gabe finally had to admit. "Dunno if it’s the quiet or what, but I need some help staying awake."
He felt her eyes on him and he shot her a glance, taking stock. She was so far back in her head that it was almost like she wasn't really there in the truck with him. He shifted in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but he thought it was gonna be impossible to find since his ass was basically dead.
His mind was trying to stay awake and he was trying to figure out a way to get Crys back, to at least start opening up a bit. Shit, he wouldn't even mind it if she cried but it meant she'd have to be present for that to happen.
His thoughts finally caught on a memory of his mom and Crys sitting on the old plaid couch singing at the top of their voices which was disturbing the Scooby Doo cartoon he had been trying to watch. When he'd complained, his mom said to turn off the TV and go in his room if he didn't want to listen. He remembered scooting himself as close as he could to the TV so he could hear better.
Why that memory?
Gabe tried to still the other stuff in his head; the worry about his dad's tests, Trish and the drama that may or may not be true, the actual damage done to Crys's house, was it set or something to do with the wiring?
He concentrated on that day, of seeing his mom with Crys on her lap, singing Three Dog Nights', 'Joy to the World'.
Crys had been quiet all morning long, not wanting to play or talk or color.
His mom had explained later that Crys missed her mom and some days were harder for her than others but, all you had to do to make her smile was to start singing.
Singing.
Gabe tried to remember the tune to a couple of those old songs that brought Crys back from being sad. Just about anything his parents had on the radio or the stereo, if he remembered right.
He tried humming along to some on the songs in his head, trying to remember the words. He was always crap with the lyrics because the music was so much more important to him.
Pretty soon he was singing softly, thumbing the beat against the steering wheel.
She wasn't moving, though.
But Gabe was patient and had a million songs in his head that could keep him awake for at least the next couple of hours.
He sang rock, country and even a couple of show tunes. Screwing with the words but keeping spot on with the melodies. He sang in his deep bass voice, and even tried a couple of falsetto notes just to see if his voice could stretch. It couldn't. And somewhere about the tenth song or so, he felt the mood in the truck change.
It wasn't happy, but it was no longer heavy and brooding.
"You always fuck up the words, asshole," she said to the passenger window. "Geesh, Gabe if you're gonna sing then get it right, for God's sake."
He ignored her and kept right on singing. He didn't know if it was helping her, but it was sure keeping him from falling asleep.
Pretty soon, he heard her adding some harmony in a soft, almost whispery voice. So he chose some duets. And managed to mangle the words, sometimes on purpose, sometimes because he couldn't remember them.
He glanced over at her and saw she was finally facing forward, her hands tucked under her legs as her feet tapped out a rhythm. Singing along with him.
Gabe knew that she was back from her abyss when he heard her laugh at him.
"It's a good thing you're gorgeous because you can't sing for shit," she chuckled, reaching over and hitting his shoulder.
He smiled and stretched his arm out across the back of the seat and ran his fingers through her hair.
"Aw c'mon, Kess, I was holding my own," he said. "You really think I'm gorgeous?"
She rolled her eyes and moved her feet up onto the console. "Not as gorgeous as me, but you clean up nice, when you try."
She shot a smile his way which he caught and held close to his heart.
His girl was back.
Chapter Twenty Two
We finally made it to Grantham around seven-thirty in the morning, both of us tired and wired.
Which I knew was adding to my nervousness.
"Straight there, Kitten?" Gabe asked as we wove our way off the interstate and out to our side of town.
"Yeah, Gabe. Let's get that outta the way, then we'll know what we've gotta do," I said softly.
"Crys?" he asked after a couple of heartbeats.
"Yeah, honey," I answered through a yawn.
"I like that you said 'we' in all that," he was smiling, as he reached for my hand.
"Yeah, whatever," I said back. I was trying to steel my heart against what I might see regarding my house and he was getting all mushy again.
He was such the ass-wipe, I thought with a smile.
We pulled off onto the long driveway just as the sun was coming over the tops of the trees.
From the front, nothing looked any different except for the gravel that had been displaced by what I was guessing was the fire truck.
We looked at each other and Gabe shrugged before we got out of the cab.
Without speaking we started to make our way around the perimeter to the house and then we saw that the far back corner, the smaller bedroom in the back was exposed. It looked like the corner had been burned away, with a portion of the roof, but nothing else that we could see.
I made my way into the empty room that was exposed to the elements and had planned on going through that room to enter the house, but someone had fitted out the door with a latch and padlock.
Nice.
That way the rest of our belongings weren't available for public consumption.
We ended up going through the front door and were relieved to see that outside of some smoke damage to the hall, the front portion of the house was okay.
Smelled like smoke though. A lot.
"What do you think, Kitten?" Gabe asked rubbing my back as his eyes roamed over the black marks on the ceiling in the hall from the smoke.
"It could've been a lot worse," I said around the lump in my throat.
"You'll need to contact your insurance agent," Gabe said pulling me in tightly. He'd been with me when I had transferred the policy from my dad's name to mine and had even agreed with the agent to increase the coverage.
"What's first, then?" I asked. I was dead on my feet.
"Sleep? No, off-load the truck," Gabe said. I admit we were both so done with the day that we basically piled his crap into the dining room before we shucked our clothes and crawled under the covers.
We woke up somewhere around late afternoon, sweating and tangled together. I wasn't fully awake until half-way through my shower.
"Morning, Princess Kitten," Gabe mumbled into his pillow, when I finally made my way back into the bedroom.
"It's almost evening, Gabe. It stinks like smoke in here and I'm starving," I said.
He popped his head up and sniffed a couple of times, before dropping his head back down.
I was at the stove, making some sort of grilled sandwich with things from the fridge when he finally shuffled in.
"Need to call my dad and let him know I'm back in town," he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "What is that?"
"Crys's surprise sandwich, I think," I said, pressing my head to his. "We'll need to make a grocery run, but the thought of getting back into a car…"
I shivered at the thought. My body was sore from just sitting even though we'd broken up the drives by a day and a half. That hadn't been enough. Twenty-something hours there and twenty-something back was too much.
And I couldn't imagine what Gabe must be feeling.
"Yeah, Kitten," he mumbled, going to the dining room table. "You could've called for pizza."
"Shit," I mumbled. I always forgot about the new businesses on this side of town. They'd only been there a couple of years, only since the new housing tracts were completed and they weren't a part of my landscape yet.
I glanced at Gabe and saw him grin.
"Is your throat sore?" I asked as I moved the sandwiches to plates and opened a bag of chips.
"Kind of," he said. "I was thinking it was because I was snoring, but it might be the smoke smell, now that I think about it."
"Yeah," I said. "I thought the same thing. Although, for the record, you do snore," I chuckled as I pulled out the big jar of kosher pickle slices and brought it to the table.
Gabe snagged my hips and pulled me between his legs. I wrapped my arms around his head as he nuzzled my belly.
"Need to eat, baby," I said softly running my hands down his back before disengaging.
He stared at the sandwich and then lifted a corner to see what was inside. "Ah…"
"Okay, shithead," I said, spitting out my first bite. "Order the freaking pizza."
I got a smile as he whipped out his phone.
"So, Cait got Jake to get some guys and they mopped up most of the water from your sprinkler system," Marianne said when I called her after our wonderful pizza fest.
One large pie, two hungry people and it was history in less than fifteen minutes.
"Let me get my notes that I made from talking with Ram," I heard her say and it sounded like she was moving around the rooms.
"Aren't you supposed to be taking it easy?" I asked. Marianne had started spotting the night we sang at Enrique's and found out she was, officially, pregnant.
The doctor had ordered her to 'take it easy'. Which for Ram meant, complete bed rest. For Marianne it meant not doing anything different other than slowing her shit down a bit.
"I am. Well, kind of," she mumbled into the phone and I heard the crinkling of paper. "Okay, you'll need to write this stuff down."
"Uhm, let me put Gabe on," I said, thinking fast. "I've got to get the clothes out of the dryer before they wrinkle."
I handed the phone to Gabe after pulling out the scratch pad and a pen.
It was times like these I felt my reading issues rear their ugly head. But, I hadn't yet told any of my special friends about it and, frankly, didn't know how to even begin the conversation.
After a while, and four pages of small writing later, Gabe handed me back the phone.
Crys And Gabe Page 17