Vive la France!
We returned to Houston exhausted, but ready for a nice family Christmas. Little did we know what had happened while we were enjoying France. Gloria believed the contest was a conspiracy between Eduardo and me, and confronted him. In an apparent flash of rage, Gloria called Eduardo a tamale eating faggot. He fired her on the spot. A week before Christmas.
Eduardo and I shared a great business relationship, and my return to work meant me offering a huge apology for Gloria’s inappropriate remarks. He politely refused my request for forgiveness. “Absolutely unnecessary, Cherie. Those words didn’t spring from your mouth, and it’s always been clear that you’re nothing like your future mother-in-law. I rarely say anything negative about others, but believe Gloria ranks up there with Cruella de Vil. Watch your back. I suspect Gloria’s bigotry is only one of her malicious traits.”
I understood Eduardo being pissed, but those were mighty strong words. Still, my first day back at work ran smoothly and by Friday it was obvious Eduardo held no ill feelings toward me. Other employees treated me with respect instead of jealousy over my win. I left work feeling all was right in my world.
Gabriel and I were snuggling in bed when the phone rang. He answered, and then held the phone away from his ear to avoid hearing loss. Hope was shouting at him, but her hostility was aimed directly at yours truly. Eventually Gabriel managed to interrupt her rant. “Goddammit Hope. Gloria lost and Cherie won, fair and square. No cheating involved.”
I leaned against my pillow offering explanations about Beau’s generosity, and Gabriel acted as moderator for a few minutes, before handing me the phone. Hope was yelling that she didn’t want to speak to me when I put the receiver to my ear.
“I’m on the line, Hope. Let’s settle this.”
“You caused my mother to lose the best job she’s ever had,” she said in menacing voice. “You’re a brown-nosing sneak and should be ashamed, Cherie.”
All I could do was gulp. Hope’s words stung.
“My mother is too old to be looking for another job. If she gets sick over this, I’ll never forgive you,” she screamed. “You’ll pay for this mess you got my mother into.”
“So I’m to blame for Gloria’s racist outburst?” I asked, infuriated by her remarks. “How did I become the villain?”
Apparently Hope didn’t hear my question. “Remember, Cherie, blood is thicker than water. Gabe may be defending you now, but he’ll side with family before this is over.” She took a short breath, and I almost got a word in. “I’ve never hated anyone like I hate you, and I don’t blame Gabe’s girls for wanting to avoid you.” Slam.
I couldn’t believe she hung up on me. I couldn’t believe my once dear friend hated me. I couldn’t believe my stomach felt like it might come up through my nose. Hope’s words about Gabriel’s daughters avoiding me were swimming in my head, doing side strokes with Gabriel’s comment about Gloria being a sore loser.
Gloria didn’t seem one bit resentful, and invited us to her annual Christmas Eve family gathering as though nothing had happened. We arrived early and got busy drinking Gloria’s special eggnog. She was quiet. “Where’s Hope and Troy?” Conn kept asking.
“They’re running late due to commitments with Troy’s family.”
Lame excuse. In my years of knowing them, this was the only Christmas Eve that Hope hadn’t been the first one through Gloria’s door. “I feel like the Grinch who sprayed graffiti on the family’s Rockwell print,” I whispered to Gabriel while watching the hands on Gloria’s grandfather clock make more rounds.
At ten o’clock, our family left for Pearland to get Luke and Nikki asleep before old St. Nick fell down our chimney. Hope and Troy pulled up the minute we drove away.
Gabriel reassured his brothers Eduardo’s competition was not rigged while Hope tried to convince them I’d double-crossed Gloria. Kim and Mei called in support of me, saying Hope had gotten spoiled to their summer vacations in Tahiti. I was miserable. Gloria was depressed. Gabriel was stuck in the middle. Although he had initially shrugged it off, each day he seemed to be withdrawing, and I began feeling guilty-as-charged by Hope.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, Nikki was in a snit about school. She informed me Lee High was only thirty miles from Pearland, while I rejected her pleas citing the drive as reason enough. She was persistent. I caved. How could I blame her for not wanting to attend Hooterville High? I’d done the same thing decades earlier.
I never found the nerve to tell Gabriel about Nikki’s school change. “It’ll be our ugly little secret,” I told Nikki. Lying through the teeth seemed better than wounding his Pearland pride.
“I’m sorry for causing such a mess, Mom.” Nikki hugged me.
“Well, I don’t want you unhappy in school and I certainly don’t want more problems for Gabriel.”
Along with my partner in crime, we made the round trip from Pearland to Houston daily praying he would never find out. My first dishonesty with Gabriel brought overwhelming guilt, but I couldn’t fess up. Things were bad enough with Hope and Gloria angry at me and unhappy with Gabriel for defending me.
“Baby, I don’t know much about your life, but worry about the controlling nature of Gabe’s mother.” Beau said during a brief chat.
“Life is good. I just want to resolve this family issue.”
“I know you do, but be careful about what you sacrifice. Take care of number one.”
“I am. So much so I’ve actually been dishonest with Gabe.”
“That’s not good, baby. Were you dishonest to protect him or to protect yourself?”
“Me, I’m sorry to admit. Nikki didn’t like her school, so instead of hurting his pride and giving him more to worry about other than his upset family, I failed to tell him.”
“Then tell him first chance you get. Lies, no matter how small, can wreck havoc on trust factors.”
“I’ll try. Just gotta find the right time.”
“I can tell you from experience, the longer you put it off, the more damaging the aftermath.” Beau sighed deeply. I’ve got to run now, baby. I’m wrestling my own issues over here.”
I didn’t prod. Beau was ringing in the New Year with divorce and asset settlement.
Gloria soon landed a new job, but unfortunately it paid much less than her annual forty thousand plus bonus earnings from Eduardo. Still, she made efforts to mend things between us. Hope remained distant. Restaurant gathering were noticeably void of her and Troy, with Gloria offering excuses. I missed Hope and couldn’t understand her animosity. One Sunday morning as Gabriel and I sat in the kitchen, I whined about Hope’s coldness toward me. He acted like it was no big deal.
“She’ll come around, just give her time.” He sipped his coffee. “Remember we have the same blood running through our veins and you know how stubborn I can be. All my siblings can put up a wall and shut out the world if necessary. Christ, our childhood dictated it.”
“Don’t remind me how well you can put up a wall.”
“Well, Hope can do the same thing.”
“Heaven help me.” I shivered.
“Just relax and smell the roses, Blondie. She’ll come around. Hey, wouldn’t a rose bush be nice in the garden outside this window? We could look at it while we drink coffee and talk.”
He was getting better at segueing than me. But I couldn’t be upset with him for pretending the family problem was no big deal—after all, I was pretending Nikki was attending Pearland High.
Soon the split between Gloria and Hope was overshadowed by a bigger problem. Nikki’s sudden goofy behavior suggested the leaf drawings on her notebooks were something other than a personal tribute to Canada. The only thing worse than discovering your child is on drugs, is losing them. I was petrified with fear. My MO was running from problems, so I went into an irrational head spin, not knowing how to handle, but determined not to lose. Every day turned into a three-act drama. I screamed at Nikki, Gabriel calmed her. I threatened, he compromised. I pleaded, he set rul
es. She and I cried, he comforted. After weeks of bizarre behavior and countless talks with Cousin Jim, Nikki finally fessed up. We assured her we would do whatever necessary to help, but if Gabriel hadn’t been the most patient man on earth, she might have ended up on the streets. It took months for the weight to lift from my chest and allow me to breathe easier. My mothering skills ranged somewhere between June Cleaver and Joan Crawford.
Beau hadn’t called for months and dialing his number got me an annoying “no longer in service” message. I wanted his advice, but had too many issues going on to hunt him down.
“Mommy, please come get me.” Nikki called from school, sounding like my sweet little girl for a change. “I can’t go to the water fountain without being offered drugs.”
Nearing hysterics, I rushed to Lee, withdrew Nikki, and drove around Pearland wondering what to do about another fine mess I’d gotten myself into. Gabriel despised lies. The following day I embarrassingly regurgitated the ugly truth.
“Cherie, there are two things I detest. One is conniving and the other is lying. I understand why you felt you had to lie, but it doesn’t alter the fact that you lied to me.”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could choke out. I didn’t blame him for distrusting me, but the dejected look in his eyes crushed me.
He stared at me for what seemed an eternity before he spoke. “Put her back in Pearland High.”
“I’d rather go to Lee and get high.” Nikki threw a fit.
I threw a bigger fit. Kid didn’t get her melodramatic personality from the milkman.
“We’ll enroll her in parochial school,” Gabriel interrupted my ranting.
“You’re the best.” Nikki hugged Gabriel.
He popped the top off his Budweiser longneck.
I popped the top off a canister of Pillsbury chocolate frosting.
Our family of three checked out Mt. Carmel together. Sister Mary Francis warned us narcotics were inescapable, but assured us the school kept a close watch on students and the arduous academic schedule left little time for getting into trouble. I hoped that Nun wasn’t lying. We registered Nikki to begin classes and Gabriel crossed his fingers in the air before writing her tuition check. I prayed to God that He would somehow undo my child rearing and remake my daughter into the perfect teenager. It hurt my heart to think my years of selfish neglect could have easily caused me to lose Nikki to drugs.
20
Nikki began her tour de Mt. Carmel, and I continued working part-time for Eduardo, which enabled me to deliver and collect her from school daily. Gabriel and I theorized less idle time would translate to less time for illegal deeds. Working for the travel agency seemed a bit like pouring salt on Gloria’s wound, but I adored Eduardo and the flexibility he offered. Tending my child took priority over a paralegal career. Thankfully, Nikki loved her new school and her friendship with Gabriel flourished, with both constantly joking about her being his illegitimate child. In the looks department, she’d gotten Kent’s long eyelashes and my heart shaped face, but her pale blue eyes and red, full lips were Gabriel O’Quinn personified. At an early age she developed his odd mannerism of mid-laugh snorting, but apologized after doing so. “It’s not very feminine and only happens when I’m really tickled,” she claimed. Possibly via osmosis, Nikki had acquired Gabriel’s less-than-subtle dry wit. After repeatedly asking us to keep a lid on things in our bedroom at night, she nicknamed me the giggler, him the screamer. One morning she entered the kitchen half asleep, but mouthy. “Could you guys lower the noise after nine o’clock? I’m just a teenager, ya know.”
“We’ll turn the TV down from now on.” I sipped some java.
“Oooh. . .baby, baby,” she moaned, flipping her hair over one shoulder before joining us at the table. “It’s not the TV keeping me awake. Try things that go bump in the night.”
“See, Blondie.” Gabriel blushed as he jumped up for more coffee. “I told ya we should’ve given her away when she was three years old and adorable.”
“I’m still adorable,” Nikki piped. “And old enough to log parental abuse.”
“Watch out, sweetie. She’s serious with those diary threats. I haven’t read it lately, but suspect an entry about wire hangers is forthcoming.”
Aspiring journalist Nikki jotted anything she felt noteworthy, filling her room with composition books, diaries, letters, and notes written on any handy paper. She was evolving into a fairly happy teenager and I was thrilled. Having experienced the agony of Nikki’s drug use, it upset me that my irresponsible behavior once drove her to escapism via mind-altering chemicals.
There was no denying we were walking a wobbly bridge over troubled waters. I spent more quality time with Nikki in my dedication to be a better mother. Whatever it took to keep my child from raising the national recidivism rate for teen drug users.
During the week Gabriel helped Nikki with her math, history, theology and even literature homework. I wanted to bop his head while they discussed everyone from J.D. Salinger to Gertrude Stein. Fourteen-year-old Nikki was absorbing the happiness that filled our home, and like myself, gathered Gabriel’s pearls of innervision as though they were precious gems. I smiled each time he discussed authors with her whom he once pretended to know nothing about, but didn’t smile about her replacing proper English with Texas drawl or other colloquialisms he spouted. In fact, I complained loudly. They told me I needed medication for my delusions.
Gabriel made everything seem easy, but the absence of Gloria and Hope hung over me like a dark cloud. Nikki talked about how Hope had always treated her like a grown up instead of like a child. Gloria had become a mainstay to me from the minute we met after Sean’s death. She couldn’t be all bad. After all, her genes produced some wonderful children, especially my crude talking, humorous, sexy man, delightfully bundled in blue jeans and T-shirt.
February found us staying up late to watch a new show hosted by David Letterman. Cavett was no longer on the tube. Dave reminded me of Gabriel—smart, calm, and a little wacky despite his often eloquent vernacular. Gabriel appreciated the way Letterman defied the system by wearing white gym socks and tennis shoes. Our bedtime that consisted of talking, laughing, and semi-quiet lovemaking, now included Dave. Some ménage à trois. We lost sleep Monday through Friday, but even with sleep deprivation, Gabriel woke up happy. My transition from night to morning person hadn’t exactly been a glowing success.
“Just one more month,” he announced early one morning. No need for crowing roosters or alarm clocks in our home.
“Really?” I said distractedly, trying to hide my excitement about our May ninth nuptials.
“And we’re keeping it a low-key, private ceremony with just us and Nikki.”
“Gabriel, we can’t exclude your family.” Even though Hope had wrapped her pretty self in bitterness ribbons, I sensed Gloria was attempting to mend things.
“Ah, who cares about that crazy family?” He rubbed my arm.
“You do and you know it. Stop trying to act like a hard ass. I’ve known you too long.”
“Hey, I am a hard ass, goddammit.”
“A hard ass who misses the family closeness. I don’t want to make things worse and hurt Gloria’s feelings by marrying without her attending.”
“She’ll get over it.” He pulled me against him. “Now forget about them and focus on me.”
It truly seemed like my first and only, but being the third marriage for each of us, we decided on an unconventional wedding at a justice of the peace in neighboring Friendswood. No frills, flowers, music, or guests. I slipped into an ivory lace sundress with ivory pumps, before attempting to expedite my daughter’s dressing efforts.
“You’re yanking me bald,” Nikki complained when I tried to brush tangles from her long hair that was inching closer to her butt crack than our agreed upon length.
Gabriel walked into the living room wearing dress shirt, slacks, tennis shoes and white Letterman gym socks. “Well girls, I’ve never been married in tennis shoes, so maybe
this marriage will work.” He reached over and kissed me.
Nikki utilized our smooch to slip away and do her own brushing.
“How could you be doubtful of us?” I reached up and scratched his sexy moustache.
“Cause I’m part of us, and I’m far from perfect.”
“So am I, but together we’re Plato’s perfect fit.”
“Damn weird philosophers,” he said with a grin. “Leave ‘em at home and let’s go.”
“I do. I do,” Gabriel said several times as Nikki and I chatted along the drive to Friendswood.
“Why are you reiterating I do?” I finally asked.
“Cause I don’t want to screw up in the presence of clergy and say I’d do just about anything for a piece of ass.”
“Seriously, Gabriel. How bout as a wedding gift you retire that stupid line?”
“What? It bugs you?” The corners of his mouth edged upward.
“Kill it, bury it, and never resurrect it.”
“Whatever you say, Ms. Steinem.”
Radio saved his bum. As we pulled into the JP’s driveway, Chapel of Love came across the airwaves. “Someone’s taking care of the musical arrangements after all,” Nikki said. When we walked inside, the JP handed me a bouquet of yellow roses before beginning the ceremony. I looked at Nikki, who was smiling precociously as though all the little unplanned pieces had magically fallen in place. Gabriel stood beside me and darted his eyes down the top of my sundress while Nikki lifted her eyebrows Groucho-style—another of his habits she acquired. After the epithalamium when we were pronounced husband and wife, Gabriel and I locked lips.
“Save something for the honeymoon.” Nikki bolted out the door.
I never thought it possible to love Gabriel more, but life after marriage was glorious. He verified everything I always dreamed love could be, and with passion and compassion perfectly blended, every day was Valentine’s, every night the Fourth of July. When I did stupid things (which I did often), he acted like he did dumber things all the time. I could have blown a hole through the roof, and he would have calmly said “Great, I was thinking about putting a sky light up there anyway.” He listened to every word I spoke—even trivial ones—with such quiet concentration it flattered me and made my imperfect feelings vanish. I gave him rubdowns when his legs ached. I loved doing his laundry and folded his socks and underwear as though they were the shroud of Turin. When he did yard work, and I brought iced tea or Budweiser for his riding lawnmower trek, he cupped his hand over his mouth and blew me kisses until I disappeared inside. We were that annoying couple at red lights too busy with each other to notice light changes, causing people to lay on their horns. For us, love was simple. I didn’t try to analyze our happiness, we just were. He colorized my black and white world and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, I was his life as fully as he was mine.
The Jewel Box Page 21