“Soon to be ex-wife. We talked about the one thing we both agree on and that’s divorce. Hell, I almost creamed my jeans when she said she’d be out of here in a few weeks.”
“Okay trash mouth,” I blurted, my heart pounding with mixed emotions, “But please tell me this wasn’t negative fallout from my visit to Kemah and the T-shirt episode.”
“Heavens, no. Victoria never even noticed my coming home bare-chested. It was just bound to happen. When two people would rather swallow fish hooks and yank out vital organs instead of spending time together, it’s best to end things. Besides, she’s dating some banker already.”
“Sorry to hear this, Gabriel.” Again, not a total lie.
“Well I’m glad. Now he can pay for her outrageous spending.”
“Just keep things cordial for Luke’s sake.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. And I’ll keep doing whatever it takes to make sure my son isn’t hurt.” He paused. “Hey, I heard it through the grapevine you might move near Pearland in a few weeks. Let me know if you need a mover. I know a guy who does a good job and it’ll only cost you a couple of Budweisers.”
“Didn’t I fall for that line about ten years ago?”
“Can’t blame a poor ole carpenter for trying.”
I hung up, my heart dancing in my throat.
I gave notice to my landlord. Notice to Randall would follow—once I summoned enough courage. Removing the six carat diamond ring was a start. He wasn’t returning to Texas for two weeks. I had time to prepare. My natural instinct was to return the ring via courier, vanish without forwarding info, and let it go at that. Randall was smart enough to figure out the details. But during my last visit to my therapist (last, being my decision—not hers) we had discussed conquering my “exit: stage left” tendency by confronting uncomfortable situations head-on. I vowed to try as I told her goodbye. But I am a natural born runner.
My engagement ring indentation was still visible when Gloria called. “Cherie, I have dreadful news. Victoria’s going to live with Gabe longer than expected, possibly post divorce. It’s difficult to explain.”
Yet Gloria gets designated as spokesperson? Where the hell was Gabriel?
“Victoria has to upgrade her credit rating enough to buy a house.”
“What happened to her so-called banker fiancé?”
“He’s knee high in divorce proceedings. Cherie, Gabe’s decision is because of Luke.”
“Well, wish them well, Gloria.” I hung up.
After a week of not hearing from Gabriel, my vacillating about ending things with Randall came to a screeching halt. I agreed to move to freezing Utah and make wedding plans. I resigned from the law firm, but did not tell Gloria. Having witnessed her knack for convincing people to see things her way, I avoided the talented debater.
Nikki had mixed feelings. She loved Texas and didn’t want to leave friends she acquired over thirteen years, but Randall’s lavishing of gifts likely swayed her vote to head west.
The packing crew was wrapping our belongings when I finally answered my non-stop ringing phone. “Cherie, please hang tight,” said mouthpiece Gloria. “Gabriel’s working on a plan for you two to be together.”
I wasn’t buying her rhetoric this time. “Do not drain that tank,” I wailed at the packer, who apparently couldn’t read. “It stays with our neighbor.”
“I’m getting a cat when we get to Utah,” Nikki told him. “My first ever ‘hands on’ pet.”
“What on earth is going on over there?”
“We’re moving to Utah so Randall can add another notch to my wedding ring finger. Beats the hell out of hanging around Texas while Victoria and Gabriel play house.”
“Cherie, don’t be foolish.”
“Gloria, these guys are trying to empty Nikki’s aquarium despite the ‘Do Not Pack’ sign hanging on it. I really can’t chat.”
“Oh, Cherie,” she coaxed. “Please believe what I’m saying and don’t do this. You love Gabriel and you know he loves you. His daughters were in town the past week, so he needs more time to sort this out.”
Damn mover kept dipping fishy water. Realizing he couldn’t speak English, I tried hand gestures. “Gloria, you’re right. I do love Gabriel, but I don’t appreciate his not calling to offer a personal explanation. Besides, I don’t want to be the home wrecker of his second marriage.”
“Don’t do this, Cherie. Gabriel’s trying to arrange things so you can be together.”
“Nikki, please get him away from that fish tank.” I yelled. “Sorry, Gloria, I can’t handle this emotional tug. Distance will be best for me. Gabriel’s doing what’s best for him so please allow me the same privilege. I can’t be in this state without going mad thinking of them together.”
“But it’s for Luke,” Gloria protested.
“That doesn’t make it any easier. And like I said, if Gabriel isn’t man enough to tell me his reasons, he’s not the man I once knew.”
“Cherie, he’s crumbling inside and just trying to keep things together.”
“Wish him the best. Now, I must go. Love you Gloria.”
“We love you too Cherie.” She was crying. I felt sad, but knew I couldn’t handle the torment of Gabriel being with Victoria for any reason.
Nikki employed sophomoric sign language to successfully stop the packer from draining her aquarium. It was promised to our neighbor since fish couldn’t endure the trip and Nikki had found the breed of cat she wanted. I was a dog person, but having never allowed furry pets in our home, I accepted Nikki’s choice.
I was supervising movers when the phone rang again. I heard Nikki explaining to Gabriel how we were packing for Utah and she’d be getting a room twice the size of any she’d ever had. With their special closeness, sharing her excitement was only normal. “It’s Gabriel, Mom.” She handed me the phone, totally oblivious to the emotional turmoil he and I were experiencing.
“You’re alive!” I snapped. “Guess I can put my black veil back in the wardrobe box.”
“Cherie, please don’t do this. I’m sorry I haven’t called, but I tend to clam up and try to internally correct things before discussing with anyone.”
“So, I’m just ‘anyone’ now?”
“No.” His voice was loud, but quavering. “You’re the woman I love. I just have to make things right for Luke. It’s not going as smoothly as I’d hoped. And now I’m in a state of shock that you’d so easily run away.”
“Let’s not talk about shock, okay? Forgive me Gabriel, but I have to go oversee packers before they put Nikki in a box.” I didn’t wait for his response. Click.
After the packers left, I sat on the sofa holding back tears while Nikki talked endlessly about decorating her new room. The phone rang just as she switched subjects onto possible cat names.
“Gabriel just left my house and he’s an emotional wreck.” Gloria sniffled. “Cherie, you must realize his being with her for even one day more is all about Luke.”
“I understand Gloria. But I have emotions too.”
“Would it help if I told you Victoria has a boyfriend?”
“According to Gabriel,” I said. “But I don’t know anything for certain these days.”
“Please don’t run off to Utah. We’ll work out these details as a family.”
“This house has already been leased.”
“Cherie, we’re a strong family who’ll get through this. Everything’s going to work out for you two.”
“Really?” I wanted to believe her, but another part of me was screaming to get the hell away. Besides, Nikki was excited about a big bedroom, and I had disappointed her too many times in her young life.
“Yes, really. I’m not sure how it’ll be handled, but believe Gabriel when he said he wasn’t about to let you run off.”
I looked around at all the boxes. Poor Nikki. Uprooted again.
“And I know you and Gabriel will soon be married,” she insisted.
“Oh, Gloria.” I sighed. “Wil
l you please ask Gabriel to call me? I hung up on him earlier but think I can speak calmly to him now.”
“Of course I will, you needn’t ask. We all love you, Cherie. And we love Nikki, too.”
Gabriel never called. After waiting two hours I called Gloria to see if she had relayed my message.
“It’s very late and Gabe’s confused. You being packed and ready to rush to Utah, then unwilling to listen to him was a hurtful blow, Cherie.”
“Well, the hurt is mutual. Doesn’t he know my hearing from you about him living with Victoria was what generated this move?”
“I think he does. He’s feeling vulnerable and wants to do the right thing for Luke. But I know he’ll call soon. Please don’t leave. Just stay near your phone.”
Around ten in the evening, Gabriel called. The minute I heard his voice I burst into tears.
“Calm down, everything will be okay,” he assured. “Don’t you know that together we can face any problems?”
“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I tend to run from problems, rather than face them.”
“I know you do,” he said in a low serious tone. “And I clam up. But here’s the plan. Victoria is moving into an apartment, and I’m paying her rent for six months.”
“What happened to her banking lover?”
“His divorce got ugly and he’s staying low key. Just forget them and get ready to move to Pearland with me. We can work out minor details, Cherie. I promise. And you know I don’t make promises lightly.”
“I know you don’t. And I know you clam up, but I’ll try to teach you the art of candid conversation with the woman who loves you. Oh yeah, we need to get Nikki a cat.”
“A cat?” he moaned. “Oh man, I’m a dog person.”
“So am I, but no argument. Randall promised Nikki a cat and her heart will be broken if she doesn’t get one. A bigger room will have to come later down the road.”
“Don’t say ‘down the road’ Blondie. No more running away from me.”
“I love you Gabriel, and I’m sorry for acting irrational.”
“Just cancel those cross country movers and I’ll handle the rest. Love you, Blondie.”
Gabriel was my tranquility base. I hung up and immediately called Randall with an honest explanation. He reacted like a true gentleman, never asking me to return the ring. Maybe he knew I would. After all, I broke our engagement. Besides, I was careless when it came to sporting that huge rock and felt fortunate none of my friends got injured during my storytelling gesticulations.
I left my job at Ray and McKreight and wound up moving to Pearland instead of Clear Lake. Not as close to water, but close to the one I loved. Gloria brought food for a “moving in party” while the brothers arranged furniture and provided crude entertainment. After everyone left, Nikki tumbled into bed exhausted. Gabriel held my hand as we walked through the house turning off lights, and when we got to the foyer, what began as an embrace ended as passionate lovemaking against the wall. Finally found a fabulous use for foyers.
“Sorry I was such a reticent asshole,” he apologized softly against the side of my neck.
“I understand.” I pushed closer to him. “I’m sorry I was ready to haul ass.”
He squeezed said ass. “I never want to be without you in my life.”
“I second that emotion. I’m the luckiest woman alive.”
In the following year, Delilah turned over a new leaf after meeting and marrying a genuinely caring guy who treated her like she’d had proper upbringing, and treated her kids like they sprang from his loins. She purchased a custom T-shirt shop and snagged contracts with athletic departments of several schools, but also used the business to display her uncensored thoughts across her chest.
Youngest O’Quinn member, Conner, married a nice (and naïve) girl named Kim, who overlooked his screwball behavior. Most importantly, Nikki loved our life with Gabriel. Although I never regretted leaving Kent, I felt guilty for working during Nikki’s formative years, thus substituted material things for time and love. I’d molded her into a spoiled brat.
Right off the bat, Gabriel bought Nikki a Himalayan kitten and barely cringed at the price tag. He pretended not to like Mistletoe, but trained her to fetch like a dog as she grew. Gabriel threw a stick and she retrieved it, no matter how far she had to run or how many bushes she had to maneuver. He whistled. She came. And every morning Mistletoe walked alongside Gabriel’s leg as he strolled down the driveway for his daily newspaper.
Gabriel was still succinct, using few words to get to the point, and I was still verbose, using thousands of words, but never quite getting to any point. Our morning routine was similar to that of the Seventies, with me walking him to the back door, kissing goodbye, and waving to each other as he honked twice to say “I love you.” Around five each day, I cooked dinner while listening for his van, and then met him at the back door. Occasionally when Nikki locked her door to write in her journal, we utilized the laundry room to make quick love on top of our washer/dryer. If you’ve never shagged on a Maytag, you don’t know what you’re missing. Love those spin cycles.
My Julia Child’s bon appétit thingy was hit and miss, (oh, the boiled pork chops incident), but Gabriel raved about every meal I cooked, even hot dogs. We ate out a lot. We saw movies. Visited museums. Attended music festivals. And spent hours star gazing. Sometimes when I went into overdrive thanking him for being super nice about things, he’d fall back on his idiosyncratic one-liner: “I’d do just about anything for a piece of ass, Blondie.”
Their excuse was “Houston summers are too humid,” but I was sure Lauren and Skylar stopped coming for summer visits because their dad was with me again. Still, Gabriel and I spent many weekends at the family lake house—and by family, I mean a house Gloria found on Clear Lake, made a minimum down payment with money she borrowed from Ben and Gabriel, purchased under her and Hope’s names, and then needed Gabriel as co-signer due to sub-par credit. Gloria never made a single payment, thus called it the family lake house, saying technically it belonged to all her children. Gabriel bought a boat and skis (mostly for me), so everyone swam, fished, read quietly, watched TV, or played indoor games. Then came the beauty makeover. On the fourth of July, Hope helped fifty-five-year-old Gloria “go blonde” to hide her proliferating gray hairs.
“I don’t like it one damn bit,” Conn said after Gloria left the room.
“Yeah, it looks like a gaggle of geese flew over and shat on her head,” Ben added.
“I really liked her dark hair,” I quietly told Gabriel. “It accentuated her olive skin.”
“Persuade her to dye it back,” Troy told Hope.
“Better keep those opinions to yourselves,” Gabriel said to everyone. “Otherwise you’ll be seeing some real ugliness surface from this newly tinted blonde.”
An exhausting day in the sun was followed by an evening of watching holiday fireworks on the water. When the last Roman candle fell from the sky we rushed inside to rotate turns in the shower, before racing for prime sleeping quarters. Once the brood finally settled into beds, Hope and I started chatting from nearby rooms.
“Hey, stop the goddamned girl talk and say goodnight,” Ben called out.
“Goodnight Troy, goodnight Cherie,” Hope complied.
“Goodnight Hope, goodnight Gloria,” I shouted from our room.
Gabriel yelled, “Goodnight Luke, goodnight Nikki,” prompting a series of goodnights throughout the house.
When Kim’s signoff finally reached Ben, he shouted, “Goodnight Kim, goodnight Conn Boy—don’t be milking your mongoose in the moonlight.” We were the Waltons, gone awry.
The Eighties had brought a more mature, kinder, sensitive Gabriel than the one I knew in the Seventies, and watching his father-son relationship with Luke added a new chapter to my Omnipotent Gabriel book. He had fought long and hard for joint custody of Luke, who visited often. Good to the bone, Gabriel was charitable to persons of lesser means, always cared for stray animals, and his reticence was no long
er mistaken for coldness. He loved sitting outdoors in the peacefulness of nature and made a point of watching sunsets and sunrises, claiming they could persuade an atheist to believe in God. In the late evenings he often called Nikki and me outside insisting we view the constellations as he taught her the quiet wonders of our universe. I listened as he and Nikki exchanged ideas and information, thrilled she was seeing him in almost the same light as me.
The lighting for us was soft and reflective, but powerful. Taking care of business around the house, we couldn’t pass each other without a quick touch or auto-pilot kiss. I was intense and fast moving, garrulous and insecure, he was patient and slow moving, soft spoken and self-assured. And my creature of habit still raked his hair from his forehead with his fingers; still kept Marlboros in his shirt pocket and always used matches; still rubbed his thumb across the tips of his four fingers as though he were dusting away grains of sands; and still sported a short moustache that drove me up an erotic wall. I loved his idiosyncrasies and every one of my personalities were totally, helplessly in love with every one of his.
18
Gabriel savored solitude, and after serving time as a waitress, I wasn’t exactly “hostess with the mostess,” but every weekend we wound up with a houseful of family. “How did our house become party central?” I asked, hearing the first visitors arrive. We lived miles from everyone.
“You can thank Gloria.” Gabriel grunted.
“I’m starving,” Troy shouted as he and Hope walked inside. I gestured to the kitchen.
Despite directing folks to food and booze by pointing our fingers instead of offering to serve, social Saturdays were fun. Thanks mostly to Ben O’Quinn. He could still spell obscenities faster than most could speak them, and although sometimes annoying, his antics had us spraying drinks out our noses. Ben had married a soft-spoken Beijing beauty he met while in the military, and when he finally brought her to Texas, we were surprised. Mei was unlike Ben in almost every aspect, but the two connected in a special way.
The Jewel Box Page 19