He wasn’t sure if he was ready to step off that cliff yet.
He rang the doorbell and heard the pounding of little feet. He set his coffee down and crouched in readiness.
The door opened, and Mikey shouted, “Unca Gabe!” as he flew at him. Gabe caught him in time for a shrieking Maddy to barrel into him. Barely keeping his balance, he lifted them both.
“Hi, guys.” Just holding the twins filled the ache in his heart. Even though they weren’t his, he’d come to love them. “What’s up, my little monkeys?”
“Mommy sad. She cry.” Mikey’s large brown eyes showed their concern.
Maddy nodded in agreement, her blondish curls bouncing around her shoulders.
“I know. Where’s Daddy?”
“He work.” Maddy touched his face and rubbed at his whiskers. For some reason, she always touched his face, and the action endeared her to him even more.
“Okay.” He set them down and picked up his coffee. “I’m going to check on Mommy. Where is she?”
“Her room.” Mikey raced into the living room and plopped onto the couch in front of the TV. Two toddlers alone was a recipe for disaster.
Maddy was more resistant to leaving Gabe.
“Did you guys have any lunch?”
Maddy shook her head. Quieter and more reserved than her brother, she generally needed more comforting than he did.
“I’m going to check on Mommy, and then I’ll come back and make you some mac and cheese, okay?”
She grinned and joined her brother on the couch. Gabe pulled off his jacket, hung it in the entryway, and then headed upstairs to their old bedroom. When he knocked, there was no answer, so he peeked around the door.
“Karen?”
The room was dark, the shades blocking most of the daylight. He flicked on the overhead light. Karen was under the covers, her head buried beneath the pillow. Gabe sighed and went to the bed.
“Karen. You need to get up. The kids are downstairs by themselves, and Randy isn’t here.” He pulled back the covers. “Come on.”
She blinked up at him, her shoulder-length blonde hair tangled around her face. Her eyes were swollen and red. Damn, she looked bad. When had he last spoken with her? Last week? No, two weeks ago, and then she’d been good, stable, the bipolar depression responding to her new meds. He rarely went longer than a few days without checking on her, but he’d been too wrapped up in his own despair.
“Where’s Randy?” Her confusion was apparent.
“Maddy said he’s at work.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh God, he left this morning. What time is it?” She sat up, her eyes scanning the room frantically. “What’re you doing here?”
He frowned. “It’s after eleven. You called me crying about thirty minutes ago. Don’t you remember?”
She shook her head, then nodded. “Yeah, I do.” Tears immediately began to course down her cheeks.
“Did you take your meds this morning?”
When she was in the depressive phase of her illness, she tended to forget to take them, which only made her worse. And she was definitely in that phase right then.
The confusion was apparent on her face. “I… I don’t remember.”
Gabe ran his hand over his hair. His ex-wife had been diagnosed as bipolar at the beginning of their marriage, but with medication and counseling, the extreme highs and lows hadn’t been as frequent. Since the birth of the twins, though, those episodes were becoming more frequent. Randy worked long hours and wasn’t there to support Karen. The limited amount of times when Gabe did see him, Randy said very little to him. While Karen’s husband had always been civil, Gabe got the feeling Randy viewed him as a threat to his marriage. Seemed odd since Randy had been the one who’d cheated with Gabe’s wife.
“I need to get the twins some lunch. Why don’t you get into the shower? Here. Drink this.” He handed her his cup of coffee, which she took. “What time will Randy be home?”
“I don’t know.” That question nearly had her sobbing again.
“It’s okay. Shower and come downstairs, and I’ll have some lunch ready. Can you do that?”
Her breath caught, and she nodded. He patted her arm and then went down to the kitchen. He pulled out a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese and set a pot of water on the stove. Waiting for the water to boil, he got out what he needed to make cheese sandwiches, the twins’ favorite.
Maddy came into the kitchen. “What doin’?”
Gabe boosted her up onto the counter. “Making lunch. Mommy’s in the shower and will be down soon. Can you open the cheese for me?” He handed her a slice of wrapped cheese. As he dumped the noodles into the boiling water, she quickly pulled open the wrapper, even managing to get the cheese slice out in no more than two pieces.
He smiled as she laid the slices on the bread. At one time having kids in that house had been his dream. Little ones to teach, play with, and love. At least the large house had kids running around, even if they weren’t his.
He set Maddy onto the floor. “Go tell Mikey to come and wash his hands. Lunch is almost ready.”
She raced off, yelling to her brother. Gabe knew Mikey would be too engrossed in his show to come anytime soon. Once he had the mac and cheese ready, he’d seek them out. While he waited for the noodles to cook, he pulled out Karen’s med box. He’d set her up with the box after the birth of the twins. At the time, the doctor had labeled her depression as postpartum, but Gabe had known different. Almost three years later and she wasn’t doing much better. He hated to admit it, but she was worse. He didn’t want to think what that meant for the family’s future. As a mental health counselor, he knew what severe mental illness could do to a parent, a spouse, and their children.
The two-week pillbox showed that Karen had missed over 50 percent of her meds over the last two weeks. Just one missed dose could throw her off and lead to regression into the illness. He’d have to talk to Randy, which he so didn’t look forward to doing.
Karen came into the kitchen, hair wet, in a T-shirt, sweats, and the old, tattered sweater he’d given her for Christmas ten years ago. When she saw Gabe with her med box, her tears started immediately. Gabe didn’t say anything. He filled a glass with water and handed her the dose of meds she’d missed that morning.
“Thanks.”
She sat at the counter and held the glass of water tightly in her hands.
Gabe mixed up the mac and cheese and called the twins. The kids raced into the room and simultaneously shouted, “Mommy!”
Karen bent down and hugged them both. “My babies. I’m so sorry I wasn’t down here. It won’t happen again. I promise. Come and eat what Uncle Gabe made.”
Gabe helped them to wash their hands and plopped them onto the stools at the counter. As they ate, the kids filled him in on preschool and everything they could remember. Gabe loved to hear their views of the world and how big everyday things were in their eyes.
By the time they’d finished eating, the twins’ eyes were drooping. Gabe helped Karen put them down for their nap. Then he cleaned up the kitchen and living room. Karen sat in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. Already she looked better, the food and meds having done her good. Gabe sat on the couch across from her.
“You’re missing your meds, Karen. You know you can’t miss one dose.”
She nodded. “Sometimes I get so busy, and I forget. The kids just need so much attention, and the housework… I get so overwhelmed sometimes. And Randy works so much.”
Gabe couldn’t imagine the energy needed to raise twins, especially when Karen was in her forties. Randy was seven years younger, but he worked long hours as a repairman.
“Have you been seeing Dr. Nemer?”
She looked away and bit her lip. He knew the answer. Gabe pulled out his phone and, without asking, found her psychologist’s number. He knew he’d get his voice mail since it was Saturday.
“Charles, it’s Gabe Reynolds. I’m with Karen, and she needs an appointment to see you
as soon as possible. You can call her. If you can’t get her, please call me. Thanks.”
Monday Gabe would call Charles, Karen’s psychologist, again. They had worked together over the years and were good friends. Gabe was surprised he hadn’t contacted him about Karen missing her appointments.
“Thanks.” She swirled the tea in her cup. “I didn’t mean to let it get this bad. When I feel this… sad, I can’t do anything.”
He knew how debilitating her illness could be, but she had to keep herself well. “You have two small children. They were alone when I came here. What if….” He clenched his fists. “What if one of them got hurt or sick and you weren’t there.”
Her chin quivered. “I know. I love them so much. I….”
He exhaled. “I love them too, Karen, even if they aren’t mine. I just want them to be safe.”
Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth but then appeared to stop herself. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I’ll try harder.”
Gabe touched her knee. “I know how hard this is. I can talk to Randy—”
Fear flashed across her face. “No, please, don’t say anything to him. He’s already upset that I’m having such a hard time. Just give me some time to get myself back together. I can do this. Please, Gabe.”
Her reaction wasn’t surprising, but that fear…. What was she afraid of?
“Okay. But I’m going to check on you every day. And you’re going to let me take the kids for a few hours after work to give you a break.”
“We can talk about it. I’m gonna go and lay down with the kids. They should sleep a couple of hours.” When she stood, Gabe noticed how thin she was when her sweater fell open. He was glad she’d eaten something for lunch. “I’m sure you have something planned with Tim.”
A stab to the chest. “Um, well, Tim and I aren’t together. It didn’t work out.”
“But you seemed so happy last time we talked.”
He pursed his lips. “I’ll tell you about it another time. Get some rest.”
She nodded and went upstairs. He took one last look around his old house, shut and locked the door, and then climbed into his car. Another reminder of Tim and what he didn’t have. Since his teens, so much of Gabe’s thinking and fantasies had centered on Tim. Now Gabe’s mind had no idea how to think without Tim there, the neural pathways etched deep and possibly set for a lifetime. Gabe moaned. Tim would never truly be gone. If only he could get the man out of his head, let him go, move on. Work on Monday would be a welcome distraction.
Chapter 3
AT NINE o’clock Monday morning, Gabe stepped into the Westport Youth and Family Center, where he was a counselor/case manager/janitor. With limited funds, the center ran on a shoestring budget, which was ironic because shoestrings, wire, some duct tape, and crazy glue were what held most of the building together. Gabe wasn’t the handiest guy, but he was free and willing to try.
“Morning, Gabe.” Alicia Morgan was at the receptionist’s desk, the phone cradled between her ear and shoulder as she typed on the computer. Alicia was the other counselor/finance manager/receptionist. With a weary sigh, she said, “It’s a five-alarm day.”
Gabe tried to suppress an eye roll and a groan. Several teens already sat in the waiting area, including Gabe’s client Travis. Seated off in a chair by himself, with his knees pulled to his chest, black hair hanging in his eyes, the teen’s forlorn expression indicated something had gone wrong in one of two places—home or school (where he should have been at that moment). Gabe guessed school.
Gabe shifted his bag to his other shoulder and grabbed the contents of his in-box. “I see I have an early start.”
Alicia glanced over her shoulder in Travis’s direction. The sixteen-year-old picked at something on his battered shoe. When no one was looking, he appeared vulnerable and lost. Once he noticed someone was watching, the concrete barriers would go up and the bravado would appear. Travis was small for his age and tended to use less socially acceptable ways to appear larger, tougher, and intimidating.
Gabe walked over to the teen. “Travis, you need to see me?”
Travis didn’t speak. He jumped up, already wearing that mask of a scowl, and preceded Gabe into his office, where he flopped unceremoniously onto the old futon. Gabe went to his desk, unpacked his laptop, and hit the Power button. His dinosaur of a computer at work was so old he was surprised the antique didn’t require foot power to work. He checked his schedule for the day, his e-mail, then opened some reports he needed to complete. All the while Travis sat, messing with his shoelace. They played this game each time Travis came unannounced. His impromptu visits always meant something had pissed him off.
“I’m never going back to school.”
Ready to talk and it had only taken thirty-three minutes. Gabe rose and rounded the desk, then sat in the chair across from Travis. The kid struggled every day to conform to rules and a social system where he didn’t fit. Most adults had written the kid off, but Gabe had caught glimpses of the lost little boy behind the posturing and hard attitude. Unfortunately, the world kept beating that boy back into his shell. Gabe feared that eventually that boy would disappear.
Gabe waited for him to continue.
“I couldn’t do gym today, and Coach Wilson was out. There was a substitute.”
Damn.
Travis’s scowl deepened. “When I said I couldn’t play, the sub, Mr. Sawyer, got all up in my face, demanding an answer why. I… I couldn’t tell him that. I said Coach Wilson lets me sit out if I need to and gives me extra credit to work on or something else to do.”
Travis rubbed his palms in an agitated motion over his legs, as if working up to something big. What had the substitute done to this kid? Gabe sat forward to give Travis encouragement to continue.
After a minute, Travis went on. “Today was touch football. I… you know I can’t. Not with so many people.”
Gabe finally spoke. “Did you see Ms. Massier?”
Travis shook his head. “The principal wasn’t there today.”
Gabe had worked so hard to create a support system around Travis at school, and one ignorant sub had gone and blown it all out of the water. Travis’s mother had sexually abused him as a boy. Convicted for the abuse, she was currently in jail, which was ironic since Travis was the one who’d lost his freedom. Touches from those he didn’t trust implicitly freaked him out. He had slowly come around to where he could handle inadvertent touches in crowds. Anything more was hard for him.
Gabe took a deep breath and released the air slowly. Anger wouldn’t help the situation. The lack of awareness of the pact with the coach by the substitute wasn’t what angered Gabe. It was the fact that he’d dismissed Travis before the kid could explain. Gabe grabbed his school ID. He visited the school so often the principal had given him his own. Didn’t hurt that she was his best friend as well.
“Why didn’t you go to the quiet room?” The room was Travis’s backup if he was too upset to stay in class.
Travis jutted out his chin and puffed out his chest. “Because if I stayed, I was gonna punch somebody. He told me I was lazy.” He crossed his arms, which resembled defiance, but with Travis the stance was more of a protective measure.
Gabe clenched his jaw. To hide his reaction, he turned to grab his coat and car keys. When he turned back, he’d managed to return to his neutral counselor face. Travis stood, knowing that despite his “never” comment, school was where he was going.
Gabe accompanied Travis to the office, explaining the situation to the assistant principal, Mr. Woods, then ushered a much calmer Travis on to his current class. Gabe entered the gym, where a group of noisy students were playing basketball. By the bleachers, a tall and—oh shit—muscular man in a tight blue T-shirt and body-hugging shorts stood watching their progress. The parade rest stance, stiff posture, and closely shorn black hair screamed military. That explained the asshole part.
As Gabe approached, the stiff man turned in his direction. Despite the glowering, Gabe was taken
aback by the light hazel eyes framed with long dark lashes, the squared chin, the highly arched eyebrows, the full, kissable—
Gabe nearly stopped in his tracks with that thought. Only once in his life had Gabe experienced that gut-wrenching, immediate, heated attraction to another man, and that had been Tim. Now he could add this gorgeous, hard-muscled man to that list.
The man narrowed his eyes impatiently when Gabe failed to speak. “Yes?”
“Mr. Sawyer?” Gabe tried to deepen his voice. He felt miniscule next to the larger man, who had an undeniable air of authority.
Mr. Sawyer’s eyes perused Gabe harshly from head to toe, as if sizing up the enemy. His body was eerily still. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. “Yeah.”
Such an extensive vocabulary.
Gabe cleared his throat, struggling to rein in his raging attraction. He was there for Travis. “My name is Gabe Reynolds. I’m with the Westport Youth and Family Center and a counselor liaison with the school. I’d like to talk with you about Travis Parker.”
The man’s scowl remained. “Who?”
That question threw a bucket of water on Gabe’s attraction. He bit hard on the inside of his cheek to retain his professional composure. “Travis Parker. You refused to let him sit out of class today.”
Recognition flitted across the man’s chiseled features. “As you can see, I’m in the middle of a class.” He turned away, summarily dismissing Gabe with the action. That only boosted Gabe’s resolve.
“Mr. Sawyer, I understand you’re a long-term sub, so it’s important we clear this up before Travis’s next gym class. If you could give me five minutes, I’m sure we can resolve this misunderstanding.”
Mr. Sawyer turned back to Gabe, raising an eyebrow, as if surprised by Gabe’s insistence. Damn, if that cocked eyebrow wasn’t sexy. After giving his whistle a sharp blow, Mr. Sawyer instructed the students to run drills. He walked away without further addressing Gabe, who could do nothing but follow the rude man into the office.
Happily Ever After Isn't Easy Page 2