Forgiven (This)

by J. B. McGee

  “I have a brother?” It’s out before I’m able to hold it back. Butterflies start to flutter in my stomach. My head gets fuzzy. I’m not sure if I feel like I’m going to pass out or vomit.

  He breathes in. “Gabby.”

  I back up. I feel like I’m suffocating. I thought I could do this, but I’m not so sure right now.

  “Gabby. Don’t go. I have your card. Don’t run.”

  I don’t care about the card. I can get another one. I have to have air. I start to hyperventilate. I turn on my heel to walk towards the door and just as everything starts to fade to black I see light. I see Bradley.

  I quickly pull the door open to Gi Gi’s and I am relieved when I see Gabby standing at the counter. As soon as she turns around, I realize that she’s in trouble. She looks terrible. Her color is gone. She looks like a ghost. I rush to get to her and she falls into my arms. I hear Gabe call her name. I turn my head back to him. “You stay away from her. Do I make myself clear?”

  “I have her card.”

  “Keep it.” I have got to get her out of here and figure out what’s wrong with her. “I got ya, Gabby. I got ya.”

  “I’m okay. I think I just need food.”

  “Okay? You think you’re okay? You’re not okay.” I push the door open. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I’m more okay than you think I am.” She pushes off of me and leans over with her hands on her knees. “I’m not as breakable as you and Sam think I am.”

  “You sure as hell looked like you were breaking in there. What would you have done had I not been there just then?”

  She takes a deep breath and rolls her eyes. “I just need food.”

  “What were you doing in there? Why did you come here? Furthermore, how’d you get here?” I realize I’m drilling her with fifty thousand questions, but damn, she scared the crap out of us. Sometimes I get so frustrated that I love her so much. She can be so exasperating. I open the car door for her, but she just stands there. “Get in.”

  “No.”

  I clench my fist and grind my teeth. Stubborn. “Get. In. The. Car.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “No.”

  “Why not? What are you trying to prove?”

  “I need to know what he did to me.”

  “Not today you don’t. Get in the car.”

  “See. This is what I’m talking about. You and Sam think you know what’s best for me...more so than I know what’s best for myself. It drives me up the friggin’ wall.”

  I take a deep breath. I can see her point, but I’m not giving into her right now. She’s falling apart. I can’t help it if she is on a mission to self-destruct. I won’t sit back and watch her. I certainly won’t help her. “You need food. Sam is worried sick about you. He has your card. We’ll have to come back to get it. Let’s just schedule a time after you’ve had some time to get yourself straight,” I plead. I need her to meet me in the middle on this. I don’t care what she says. Today is not the day to do this. Not to mention, he has a business to run. It’s not like he can just stop and rehash his demons in the middle of the day. That’s provided he’s even willing to rehash them at all. She needs to be prepared for the fact that he may not want anything to do with her. She’s clearly not thinking straight.

  “Fine.” She climbs into the car, and I realize I have been holding my breath this entire time. I slam the door closed once I see she’s in. I grab my phone and send a quick text to Sam that she’s okay and we’ll be home later. I have a few things we need to do before we go home.

  Found her at Gi Gi’s. She’s a mess. Taking her for lunch and then to buy her a new car. I don’t want her hitching rides or wandering around alone anymore. You’re welcome to stay or you can lock up and go. Let me talk to her for a little bit and I’ll call you in a little bit.

  I am meeting Dad today to discuss the things I don’t remember. Sam is insistent that this is a bad idea. She even went to Dr. Harrison and tried to get her to convince me to not do this, except Dr. Harrison said it was my decision. I was okay with not knowing before I saw him again. But now I have to know what he did because he seems so different than how I have pictured him all these years. He acts so different than what I expected. I expected a loser-a drunk, deadbeat asshole. He’s nothing like that. I have to know more.

  He’s called me angel a couple of times. I need to know what that’s about. Honestly, it creeps me out right now. He needs to explain that or stop it. I am not sure I’m ready for pet names from this man. Father, or not, he clearly did something horrible to me.

  Which is why Bradley refuses to really let me be alone with him. I know that Mr. In Control has done every kind of background check on him imaginable, and he says he can’t really find anything bad. Part of me thinks he’s over-reacting, but the other part of me is thankful he’s protective over me. I’ve not had a father to be protective all these years. I didn’t have a dad to hold a shotgun as he opened the door to Ian and threaten him if he ever hurt me. Sam has had to play all of these roles for me. And Emma.

  Part of me understands how Sam could be so hateful about him. She remembers vividly what he did. She remembers what it was like having a father one day, and then the next not. She’s the one who had to sacrifice so much to try to make things normal for me and to pick up the pieces of my life when I’ve fallen apart because of men.

  So with all of that said, Bradley is with me. Dad told us to come to the coffee shop thirty minutes after they closed so he would have time to clear the staff. He told us we could come before, but he would rather us have all the time we needed to talk and not feel rushed. It’s hard to imagine him doing anything terrible to me. He’s been so kind thus far.

  I feel my stomach starting to churn as I get out of the car and walk towards the dimly lit shop. I can see Dad get up from one of the tables and walk towards the door. He turns the key on his side of the door and ushers us in. Is it too late to run? I hear I’m really good at that.

  “Bradley.” Dad nods and extends his hand. He glances over to me. “Gabriella.”

  “Mr. Gerhart,” Bradley says curtly.

  I politely smile. “Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to do this, Gabby. But if you don’t remember and you think knowing will help you move forward, then I’m willing to do it.” He motions for us to sit down at the table. “Can I get you two anything?” He slides my card from the last time I was here across the table. “And here’s your card you left that day.”

  I shake my head as I sit down. Bradley says, “I’m good.” He looks over to me as he pushes my chair in for me and sits beside me. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

  “I’m sure,” I reply. He has no idea how badly I feel right now. My stomach is rolling like one of those machines that hold the balls for the lottery. I feel like I could throw up at any moment. I know adding any food to that would just be asking for a mess.

  My hands are in my lap, and I can’t help but fidget. Bradley must have noticed because he reaches over and puts his hand over both of mine. I look over to him and his expression says it all. He clears his throat and whispers. “You sure about this?”

  My mouth feels like I have cotton balls stuck in there. It’s so dry I can barely speak. “Yes.”

  “Get her some water,” Bradley commands, which totally embarrasses me. My father may have done unspeakable things, but he should still respect him just because of his age if nothing else. Dad just nods his head and gets up from the table to get my water.

  “I’m fine,” I insist and cut my eyes to Bradley. “Don’t be rude. This is hard enough as it is.”

  “You’re not fine,” he ridicules me. “Drink the damn water.”

  Dad comes back to the table and extends a bottle of water to me. I cross my arms and glare at Bradley. He narrows his eyes at me, and I notice that dad is looking between the two of us. He pushes the water closer to me. He may be intimidated by Mr. Control Freak, but I’m not. T
his is my deal. I’m not going to be bossed around. “Angel, take the water,” dad says.

  Are you freakin’ kidding me? I snatch the water. “Fine. Thanks.” I slam the bottle of water on the table in front of me. “That’s the first thing I want to know.” Bradley inhales sharply and I don’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that I know he’s fuming mad at me. I can handle him later.

  “What do you want to know, Gabby?” Dad asks.

  “Why you call me angel?”

  He purses his lips together and closes his eyes for a moment. “Because you saved me. I have always considered you my guardian angel.”

  I scrunch my eyebrows together and look at him confused. “How do you figure?”

  “I’m an alcoholic.”

  “I knew that much,” I hiss. “Keep going.” I try to take a breath. I realize I had told Bradley to not be rude, and I’m being a complete bitch. It’s like all of my frustration over my life have come flooding out of me. Bradley should have never told me to drink the damn water. It was the last thing I needed to hear. He was right, too. I am dying of thirst, but I do not want to give him the pleasure of knowing he was right at this particular moment.

  “Your mother was the love of my life.” His voice quivers. “It was like I was a different man when I drank. Like I had two personalities, or something.” He glances away and pauses. I lift my heel and do this bouncing thing when I get really nervous, and it starts. Bradley reaches over and places his hand on my leg. As pissed as I am at him for earlier, my leg slows, and I feel slightly calmer. I put my hand on his. “Anyway, you looked so different from Sam when you were little. You look just like your mother.”

  I put my head down and try to choke back the tears. I don’t talk about it often, but I know I am the spitting image of my mother. I always assumed that Sam must have been a spitting image of my dad. She does resemble him.

  He continues. “I always questioned whether you were my child.”

  I know my eyes must look like deer caught in headlights. I can’t believe that my mother would have ever had an affair. I have to ask Sam about this. The thought that she may not be my real sister makes bile rise from my stomach. I grab my belly. “Excuse me,” I mutter as I rush from the table to the bathroom, covering my mouth to try to fight back the vomit. Luckily, the shop is small, and I reach the bathroom door relatively quickly. It’s not a large bathroom, just a single stall. I reach the commode in time before I am unable to contain myself any longer. Thankful that I didn’t eat or drink anything, I pull the toilet paper and wipe my mouth before pushing the lever to flush.

  There is a knock at the door, and it opens slightly. “Gabby?” Bradley asks, “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine, and no.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I just need a minute.”

  “I’ll be right outside of the door waiting, then.”

  “Yep.”

  I can’t believe that my mother would have had an affair. Surely, there must have been something else that happened to make him think that I wasn’t his child. Does he have proof she had an affair? Had she been seeing someone else? All of these questions flood my mind. I push back the tears that are threatening the backs of my eyes. I say a silent prayer that everything I thought about my life, about my mother, wasn’t all a lie. I wash my face with a cool paper towel and toss it into the trash before exiting the bathroom.

  Bradley is facing the bathroom door, leaning up against the wall with his legs crossed and hands in his pocket. He straightens his body when I come through the door. He moves forward and pulls me into a hug. I don’t even have time to wrap my arms around him. Not that I would have. I’m still reeling from him treating me like a child earlier with the water. I realize as I stand there in his embrace that I almost feel numb. I am definitely going to need some time to process all of this information. Bradley puts his hands on my shoulders and surveys me before asking, “Do you want to leave? Finish this another time?”

  “Why would I want to do that?” I ask.

  “Because, never mind that it’s late, I’m pretty sure you just got sick in the bathroom.”

  “Yeah, finding out everything you thought about your life might not be true will do that to you.” I push away from him and head back to the table. “I said I was fine. Good thing I didn’t drink that water,” I hiss as I glance back to see him standing there looking at me. I can tell that I just pushed every one of his buttons, but I’m glad. Tonight, he’s pushed enough of mine.

  When I get back to the table, my dad looks concerned. “I’m sorry, Gabby. You didn’t give me a chance to really finish. As soon as I said that, your entire face turned green.”

  “It’s fine.” I look away. “Why did you think I wasn’t yours? Was she having an affair?”

  “No. Well, I don’t think so now.”

  “Why did you then?”

  “There was a guy that she worked with. He always seemed overly interested in your mother. She always assured me that there was nothing more there.”

  “That doesn’t mean there wasn’t.” I am well aware that just because someone tells you it’s all in your head and there’s nothing there, doesn’t mean that’s the truth. Ian was very good at covering up his little tryst with the person I thought was my very best friend. I’m sure as an adult, someone could do an even better job.

  “I know.” He takes a swig of a bottle of water he must have gotten while I was in the bathroom. “I’ll get to that in a little bit. Let me continue, if you want?”

  “I want to know.”

  “Okay. So I wasn’t sure you were mine. I had convinced myself that because you looked nothing like me at the time that you must have been someone else’s. You were always quiet, shy, and almost slow. I had no patience for you, Gabby. Especially when I was drinking.”

  I gulp and close my eyes for a moment to keep the tears back. I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this. I don’t understand how that’s even possible. “What did you do to me? What was so bad that Mom would have taken us and just left for good?”

  “You girls had broken something while I was supposed to be watching you. I knew when your mother came home, she would nag the hell out of me. I was sick of it. When you are in that place, you don’t want to hear anything from anyone. You don’t want anything coming between you and the bottle.” He looks down and fidgets in his lap. Exactly the way I do. “I lost it. I lost control. Your mother had always told me it was one thing for me to be a deadbeat dad, but the moment I laid a hand on either of you, she was gone.”

  “So you hit me?”

  “I hit you multiple times. It was more than hitting, though. She should have left me long before that. Gabby, I’m so sorry. When I was drunk I would say horrendous things to you, about you.”

  I have nothing to say. It’s hard for me to believe that I would have blocked all of that out, or that I would have been that traumatized over words, but then again, I have always been extremely sensitive to people saying ugly things to me. Maybe it’s why I reacted the way I did to Bradley telling me to drink the water. I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. Maybe I should have just left this buried inside of me.

  Dad starts to talk again. “Anyway, your mother came home and saw me hitting you. Sam was terrified. That was it. She left. That was my rock bottom. I started going to AA meetings several weeks later after I realized she wasn’t coming back.” He starts to bounce his leg like I do. It is becoming more and more clear as I watch him that he has to be my father. We may not look that much alike, but we certainly have the same mannerisms.

  “That’s why you call me angel?”

  “That’s why I call you angel. As much as I thought I hated you, despised you, I realized had it not been for you...I don’t know where I’d be now.” He looks up to me through his lashes. “Gabby, you saved me.”

  “So you don’t drink anymore?”

  “I’m a recovering alcoholic. Every day is a struggle. I att
end meetings regularly, have a sponsor, and all that jazz.”

  “Wow.”

  “After I started going to the meetings and met my sponsor, I joined a local church.” He smiles for the first time since this started. “That’s where I met Cindy.”

  “Cindy, your wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you find out Mom wasn’t having an affair?”

  “It wasn’t long after I started getting my life on track, that I hired a private investigator to try to find her.” He shakes his head. “It was obvious that she wasn’t seeing anyone. I had him watch you all for a long time. He would bring me pictures of you and Sam...and Grace.” A tear slides down his cheek. He looks away as he swipes it. “I thought about trying to go back to her, but you all looked so so happy, Gabby.”

  I feel my chest and throat tighten, and I know that fighting back tears is a useless waste of energy. Both of my eyes well up and overflow like a fountain. “So you just watched us...just let us go?”

  “I know. It was wrong.”

  “You’re damn right it was wrong! You should have tried to make it right.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand, Gabby. I just knew that I didn’t want to mess up your new life.”

  “So you never spoke to Mom ever again?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.”

  “How did you know she passed away?”

  “I always read the obituaries. There isn’t a day that passes that I have missed them.” He clears his throat. “I know that had to have been really hard on you and Sam.”

  “Oh you have no idea. And you knew, and you still didn’t come back?”

  “What was I supposed to do? Show up at your door and say ‘Daddy’s back’?”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I guess he has a point. I mean, it’s not like Sam’s even receptive to him now. There’s no way she would have been then. “I don’t know.” I sigh as I put my head into my hands. “I guess I just can’t believe that you had this other family and you got your crap together, but never came back for us.”