Natalie, putting her plate in the sink, looked back at the sound of his soft snort. She watched as he pulled his folded sweater out of the envelope, but she didn’t comment.
Gabriel felt a surge of anticipation, but it quickly faded when he saw that there was no accompanying note in the envelope. He tried to hide his disappointment.
“I’m gonna be late tonight,” Natalie said, drawing his attention. “Going out for drinks.”
He nodded, genuinely happy to hear it.
“I’m heading out, I’ll see you at school,” she said, and he nodded again. They almost always drove separately, even though they worked in the same school. They rarely kept the same hours, with their extra-curricular classes. She paused as she passed the table, and patted him on the chest. “Check the pockets,” she said.
“I—What?”
She smiled. “Discretion, honey,” she said. “The same reason you signed the flowers with your initials.” She laughed at the look on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it,” she assured him. She kissed his cheek and continued on her way toward the door. She grabbed her purse and slipped outside, leaving Gabriel alone in the house.
He turned the sweater over in his hands, and he felt the crinkle of paper as he unfolded the garment. He fished his fingers into a pocket and drew out a folded piece of paper. He dropped the cardigan onto the table and opened the note. The handwriting was neat, and matched that on the envelope.
Gabriel only had a few minutes before he needed to leave for work, but he sank into a chair at the table, smiling at the creased paper.
Gabriel
I was glad to get your note, although the apology is unnecessary. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line here but I wanted to make sure you got your sweater back. Here’s my number, in case you misplaced my card. This is a textable #. I won’t contact you again if I don’t hear from you.
All the best
JW
P.S. I hope to hear from you
“Well, hell,” Gabriel laughed, scratching at his freshly-shaved jaw. “I guess the ball is firmly in my court.” He glanced around. “Aaaand, I’m sitting here talking to myself,” he said with another laugh.
I hope to hear from you, Gabriel thought. The words had filled him with a pleasant warmth, and Jack’s face rose into his mind: dark blonde hair, blue eyes, scruff along his jaw—although that was most likely only a late-night look.
“Blonde hair and blue eyes, younger guy, uniform. I’m such a cliché,” Gabriel said, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually be bothered by the thought. He folded the note and stuffed it into his shirt pocket, rising to his feet. He draped his sweater over the back of the chair, tossed the envelope in the garbage, grabbed an apple because he hadn’t given himself enough time for a proper breakfast, and headed for the door.
He didn’t even realize that he was still smiling as he climbed into his car.
***
When he walked into the teachers’ lounge at lunch, Natalie and Arnie were sitting together, heads bent close as they looked at something on Arnie’s phone. Natalie was laughing, and she had one hand at her throat and the other on his wrist.
Gabriel was brought up short by the sight; his steps faltered and he stopped, just inside the door, taking a moment to process his sudden jumble of emotions.
She looked happy, and her happiness always made him happy. Also, he’d meant what he said: Arnie was a good guy, and he would treat her with respect. He was also looking at her as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world, and Natalie deserved nothing less.
But there was a niggling unease in his belly, some hint of discomfort that he didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. It had nothing to do with Arnie, specifically. It was about the fact that Natalie was his wife, and had been for literally half of Gabriel’s life; she’d never been with anyone but him, and they’d shared a bed for more than two and a half decades.
It wasn’t exactly jealousy that he was feeling, and it certainly wasn’t possessiveness—more like protectiveness, he thought—and yet it was close enough to each of them to make Gabriel uncomfortable. He knew that he was going to have to work through these feelings for himself, because he’d be damned if he would let them taint the happiness that she deserved.
He realized that people were looking at him, and he adjusted the strap of his satchel over his shoulder, offering Natalie a smile when she met his eyes. Arnie started to push to his feet, and she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. Gabriel offered him a smile, too, and seated himself in the back corner of the room, sliding his bag onto the table. He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen so no one would feel the need to sit beside him or attempt to pull him into conversation.
He wanted desperately for Natalie to be happy. He knew she wanted the same for him, and he supposed that the idea of him with Jack, or anyone else, was nonetheless an uncomfortable thought for her. It would take some getting used to for both of them.
He glanced up, chancing a quick peek at her with Arnie. The gym teacher now seemed ill-at-ease, and Gabriel was sorry. He wished he’d chosen to spend his lunch break in his classroom, at his desk, so that Natalie and Arnie could’ve enjoyed themselves without feeling awkward. It was too late, now. If he got up and left, it would only make the situation worse.
It didn’t help that everyone else in the room seemed unnaturally quiet. A part of him wanted to stand up and lay everything out in the open. That would embarrass Natalie, though. Gabriel suppressed a sigh. He wanted to make things better, easier for everyone, and he didn’t know how.
Natalie leaned over and whispered something in Arnie’s ear, and the gym teacher nodded. They rose in unison, grabbing their stuff, and Natalie caught Gabriel’s eye for a few seconds before they left. She didn’t want him to feel guilty, and he gave her a quick nod of acknowledgement.
Once they’d gone through the door, Gabriel turned his attention to his phone. He’d been thinking about texting Jack all morning. He’d been temporarily distracted by the sight of Natalie, but now his thoughts had returned to the cop. He’d already programmed Jack’s number into the cell, and he’d started a new text message. He’d only managed to type Jack, though, and he stared at the word, trying to think of what to say.
“You okay?”
Gabriel looked up, surprised, as the school’s Art teacher, Hilary Westinghouse, sank into the chair across from him. “I’m fine,” he said automatically. He wasn’t sure why she was asking, at first. Her reason quickly became clear.
“I know you two are…separated, or whatever,” she said in a hushed voice, leaning forward over the table. “But even so, that was harsh.”
We’re not separated, he thought. He frowned. Yes, they were going to get a divorce, but that had only just been established. Before that, he hadn’t thought of them as separated. They’d been living in the same house, sharing a bed until a few months ago. They still shared meals, they watched television together, they took turns grocery shopping.
“What do you mean?” he heard himself asking. He knew what she meant, but he didn’t like the idea of people gossiping about Natalie.
Hilary touched his wrist and he resisted the urge to pull away. “We all knew something was going on after that incident at the summer Christmas party,” she said in a stage-whisper.
Did everyone know about that kiss except me? Gabriel wondered. Immediately following this thought was another, even more unpleasant: Has everyone been talking about them—about her—since July?
“But there’s no need for them to flaunt it in your—”
“I appreciate your concern,” he cut in, keeping his tone as friendly as possible. “It’s really not necessary, though. Nat can spend time with whomever she chooses—as has always been the case,” he added. Then, seeing that Hilary was about to interject, he continued quickly: “We are getting a divorce, yes, I suppose it won’t take long for that to be public knowledge.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hilary said, tig
htening her hold on his wrist.
Gabriel counted to five before he answered calmly. “Don’t be sorry for me,” he said. “It was my choices that led us here, not hers. Natty’s the best person I know, and she deserves nothing but happiness. If you’ll excuse me, I just remembered I need to make a phone call, I’m going to do that at my desk while it’s quiet,” he told her, gently pulling his wrist from her grasp.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and, holding his phone in his hand, strode from the room without a backward glance. He made a beeline for his classroom, dropped his bag onto his desk, and settled into his chair with a sigh. He looked at the clock. He was running out of time to eat, but his stomach was a bundle of nerves. He was going to text Jack, although he still had no idea what he was going to say.
Jack. This is Gabriel Santiago. He hesitated, backspaced fourteen times in quick succession. Jack. This is Gabe. He shook his head. This is Gabriel.
He stared at the words, feeling like an idiot. He was fluent in three languages and could pass in two others, he’d been teaching high school English and Spanish classes for the better part of three decades, and he had a secondary degree in literature. But he couldn’t draft a simple text?
He knew he was overthinking this, making it more complicated—and stressful—than it needed to be.
Jack. This is Gabriel. Thanks for sending my sweater. I hope you got the flowers and didn’t think that was too weird or embarrassing? I meant to include my number on the card and forgot. You know what they say about age and memory ;) You can text me at this number any time, if you want. He hesitated, skimming what he’d typed and wondering if it was too long. He fought his urge to delete it. As an afterthought, he added All the best, smiling as he wrote it. He’d included the sentiment in the card with the flowers because he hadn’t really known what else to say—something that was personal, but not too personal. Jack had copied the phrase into his own note to Gabriel.
He hit send before he could talk himself out of it, and then he stared at his screen, scarcely able to believe he’d done it. He turned the phone over and set it facedown on the desk.
“Okay, then,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. He reached into his bag and pulled out his lunch sack. He wondered what would happen if and when Jack answered him. Would he ask Gabriel out on a date? The very idea filled his stomach with butterflies. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, exactly, although he definitely had some work to do on his nerves.
Should I ask him out? he thought. He might say no. Or…he might say yes.
“Probably wait until I have a place to live before I try dating someone,” he muttered. He glanced up, suddenly realizing he’d spoken aloud. You’ve been talking to yourself a lot lately, Santiago, he thought with a grimace. Still, it was a valid point. He didn’t relish the idea of inviting a date home for a nightcap, to the house he and Natalie had shared for twenty years.
His phone buzzed on the desk, and his heart stuttered. He reached out and carefully flipped the cell over, telling himself it probably wasn’t Jack. Not so quickly.
Gabriel. I’m glad to know the phone # was an oversight, I was worried about contacting you if it might cause you trouble. Thank you for the flowers. I wasn’t sure if I should mention them in the note but they were very nice.
Gabriel tapped his fingers on the desk, chewing his lip. You don’t have to worry about contacting me, he wrote. Anyway I just saw my wife with her potential bf for the first time. As soon as he sent it, he wanted to pull the text back. Why in the hell was he mentioning Natalie? Or anything so personal?
I’m sorry. That must’ve been weird.
Weird, Gabriel thought, reading Jack’s quick response. Yes, weird was exactly what it was. A little, he answered. It’s nice to see her happy though. We’re at work so now everyone knows we’re getting divorced.
You work together? Then, before Gabriel could respond: It can be hard when everyone knows your business. Sometimes we want work to be separate from our real life.
Yes. Gabriel hesitated. Sorry about sending the flowers to you at work.
Jack responded almost immediately. Not what I meant. I’m glad you sent them. Made me smile all day.
Gabriel grinned at his phone, feeling a rush of pleasure. Good, he sent. I’m not sure what I’m doing, he admitted. Feels like it’s been a hundred years since my days of dating.
He closed his eyes after he sent the text. “Dating?” he muttered aloud. “Are you trying to scare him away?” He looked down at the buzz of his phone.
Don’t second guess yourself. You’re doing fine.
Gabriel let out a breath as he read Jack’s response.
It’s been a long time for me, too, Jack added. Then, another text: A long time since I was even interested in anyone. Before Gabriel could think of a response, a fourth message: And I am interested.
Don’t chicken out now, Gabriel thought. He sent a rapid response before his brain could stop his thumbs: Me too.
He got a smiley face in return, and could do nothing for a minute but sit, grinning at his phone. Finally, he texted: Are you at work now?
Yes. Just started. Sitting in my car waiting for speeders. Boring.
Boring is good. Safer that way, Gabriel answered.
True. Makes for a long shift though. Know any jokes?
Gabriel laughed. Not funny ones.
Action. Text later?
Sure, Gabriel wrote. Be safe.
Jack didn’t respond, and Gabriel pictured him peeling out onto the highway, lights flashing and siren blaring. Text later? he thought, smiling to himself. He looked up at the sound of someone in the doorway, and spotted Alex hesitating on the threshold.
“Sorry,” Alex said. “I didn’t want to bother you on lunch…”
“Oh.” Gabriel gave himself a mental shake, forcing himself back to reality as he reached for his satchel. “I forgot—come on in,” he said, with a quick gesture of his hand. With his other hand, he drew a blue, three-prong portfolio from his bag. Bound inside the folder was the script for the play he’d written when he was in high school. He’d glanced through it the night before after digging it out of the file cabinet at home, the first time he’d looked at it in what felt like a lifetime.
Alex crossed to Gabriel’s desk, and the teacher held the portfolio out. As Alex took it, the boy said, “Thanks for letting me read it.”
Gabriel shook his head, smiling. “Don’t expect too much,” he said. His phone buzzed on the desk and his eyes slid toward it. “And don’t be afraid of hurting my feelings,” he added, but Alex could tell he was distracted.
“I’ll see you in Spanish,” the kid said, tucking the folder under his arm as he turned to leave.
“See you in an hour,” Gabriel agreed, flipping his phone over to look at the screen.
The text was from Natalie: Are you ok?
Yes. You?
You can say no if it’s too weird but Arnie said his brother has an apartment for rent that’s a great deal and just became available. He wants to know if you want him to talk to his brother?
Gabriel’s stomach fluttered nervously. Things seemed to be moving at lightning speed, after decades of stagnation.
You don’t have to move any time soon, Natalie wrote, reading his hesitation. Do NOT feel rushed. We can go look together if you want or I can tell him no.
Could you tell Arnie he doesn’t have to be afraid to talk to me? Gabriel said. And also thanks, I’ll check it out any time they want.
Ok I’ll let him know.
Gabriel responded with a heart emoji, set his phone on the desk, and leaned back in his chair. He had no idea how he was supposed to go about moving into an apartment; his entire life was in their house, and not just a lifetime’s worth of possessions. The thought was overwhelming, the idea terrifying, and yet he couldn’t deny the current of excitement running beneath his trepidation.
***
“Did you tell Hilary you cheated on me?”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “N
o,” he said.
Natalie regarded him suspiciously. “Did you imply it?” she asked.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, stalling. “I may have said that the divorce was my…fault,” he said.
“You know she’s the biggest gossip in school.” When he didn’t answer, she put her hands on her hips in exasperation. “You knew she’d tell everyone. Gabriel, I don’t care that they’ve been talking about me and Arnie. You know nothing’s actually happened between us.” Her voice curled up on the end of the last word, turning it into a question, and he nodded once. “So let them talk, who cares?”
“I care,” he said with a frown. “Let them talk, but let them talk shit about me if they want.”
Natalie sighed. “You have to stop worrying about how your choices are going to affect everyone else,” she said. “I know it’s not easy—I know you were uncomfortable seeing me with Arnie, and my first instinct was to leave, to shield you from it. But I don’t have anything to be ashamed of, honey, and neither do you. It’ll be weird, I know. It’s awkward and uncomfortable thinking about each other with other people after all this time, but we raised our son, and now it’s time to live for ourselves. You have to learn how to be a little bit selfish.”
He smiled. “A little bit selfish?” he repeated.
“Stop worrying about me and Ben. We can take care of ourselves. And I think you should think about selling your mother’s house.” She saw his slight wince but continued: “You could move in there if you wanted to, but I know you don’t want that. And I know you’re thinking about everything in our house, books and clothes and furniture and pictures and your favorite mug, and you’re getting overwhelmed. But it’s not like I’m going to have a bonfire, honey. You need to make a big step. Jump into the life you want with both feet, Gabe, because we’re not getting any younger. Let people talk. You don’t care what they say about you, you never have, you’ve only ever cared how it would affect me or your mother or Ben.”
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