by Abby Brooks
“Alright. Well, I better go. Wish me luck,” I say, crossing my fingers before I hug her goodbye. “I have no idea when I’ll be home, but I’ll text if it’s going to be late. Love you.” I pull the door closed behind me.
I put my hand on Gabe’s knee. “Sweetheart. Honey. Love.”
Gabe keeps his eyes on the road ahead. “Oh boy.”
I continue. “We’ve been on the road for over two hours. I was patient through breakfast, even with your incessant giggling about how much I was going to love the surprise. Even after you refused to give any hints about our destination.”
Gabe nods. “That’s true.”
“Well. Now my patience has officially run out. So, spill already!” I slap his knee. “Where are we going?”
Gabe’s eyes never leave the road, but he does crack a smile as he confesses. “We’re headed down to the Springs.”
“Colorado Springs?” I ask, surprised by his answer.
“Yep.”
I twist in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. “As lovely as the area is—I have to ask—why are we taking a last-minute trip to Colorado Springs?”
Gabe takes a deep breath, holds it, and exhales before answering. “You’ll see, Doll. Just be patient.”
Grrrr. Didn’t we just cover the fact that I’m all out of that?
“Okay, let’s compromise. If I guess the place, or places, on our itinerary, you have to admit it. Deal?”
Gabe strokes his chin as he considers my request. “Deal,” he answers, confidently.
“Garden of the Gods?” I ask.
“Cold.” Gabe chuckles.
“Hmm.” I look out the window as I try to recall all the different tourist attractions. “Pikes Peak?”
“Colder. Like, not even close.” Gabe smiles. “We can do this all day, but you’ll never guess.”
He’s right. I try several other places that all get me nowhere. The last hour of our drive passes in silence except for Gabe’s quiet humming along with the radio while I sit in my seat, stewing about being left in the dark.
This better be some awesome damn surprise, bub. Or else.
Gabe pulls out his phone and enters an address into his navigation app. I peek at the destination, but don’t recognize it. When we exit interstate twenty-five and head west, away from Colorado Springs, any remnants of fun or excitement about this adventure are gone. “Okay, Wilde. That’s it.” I point at the clock on the dash. “It is after twelve so, including stops for food and fuel, we’ve been on the road for almost four hours. This stopped being fun a long time ago—and I have to pee. Please…tell me where the hell we are going.”
Gabe appears equally frustrated when he looks over. “Almost there.” A few minutes later, we exit the highway and turn onto a side street. He points towards a newly developed subdivision ahead. “See that place up on the right?”
I follow the line between his finger and a modern looking duplex. “Yeah?”
Gabe stops the truck at the end of the short driveway. “Well?” He’s practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. “What do you think?”
“I think whoever lives here probably won’t appreciate us blocking their driveway.”
Gabe dismisses my comment with the wave of his hand. “I doubt that, seeing as no one lives here. Yet.”
“How do you know that? And, if no one lives here then why are we here?”
“Well. I called and spoke to the property management company on my way to pick you up and the place is ours, if we want it. I just have to give them the deposit and we can pick up the keys.”
Confusion, fear, excitement, each emotion takes a turn wrenching my stomach into knots. “What are you talking about?”
“Us, Doll. Our future. I spent all night looking at places online, and I thought you’d fall in love when you saw this one. There’s no way pictures could do it justice, plus this is a pretty hot area, so if we want the place, we’re gonna have to act fast. Hence…our road trip.”
“Gabe. Hon?” I pause as I look over the duplex, appreciating the spacious backyard, the two-car garage, and the hip, comfortable vibe of the neighborhood. He’s right. I do love it. I could easily see us starting our family here. Under different circumstances, anyway. “Don’t you think the drive back and forth to the ranch would be a little far for you?” The question is as much a joke as it is a gauge, to measure his response as I try to decipher the meaning of this surprise.
“Back and forth to the ranch?” Gabe shakes his head. “God yes. That would be awful. But that’s the best part, Doll. I won’t be driving back and forth to the ranch. Not regularly, anyway.”
“Oh yeah? How do you see this working, then?”
Unable to hide his frustration any longer, Gabe shifts the truck into gear and pulls away without a word.
“Where are you taking me now?”
“So much for surprising you.” Gabe takes a breath. “Honestly, I thought you’d be a little more receptive to the idea, all things considered.” His words are surprisingly harsh.
“So that’s it? We’re just driving back? Four hours down, five minutes here, and four hours back?”
Gabe growls before he speaks. “You said you needed to use the bathroom, right?”
I nod.
“Well?” He turns into a gas station and parks in front of the building. “Here you go.”
I do my business, and as I walk back towards the truck I’m trying to see the situation from Gabe’s perspective. Am I just not following his line of thinking? Is there more to this? I climb in and try to salvage the situation. “We drove all this way. Before we head home, why don’t we find some place to talk. You can try and help me understand your plan. Okay?”
Gabe doesn’t speak. He nods in agreement and pulls out his phone to find somewhere nearby where we can go. The man is deflated, and trying his best to hide it. Like a kid whose big red balloon just drifted out of his hand. Neither of us speak on the short drive to Red Rock Canyon.
“Keep your eye out for some place where we can park, okay?” Gabe asks as we turn in.
We make our way through the most amazing scenery. “There.” I point to an empty spot off to our left.
Gabe pulls up, shifts the truck into park, and kills the engine. As he unfastens his seatbelt, Gabe looks at me for the first time since leaving the duplex. “Feel like a hike?” Gabe takes my hand in his as we walk side by side up the trail. Finally, he clears his throat and finds his voice. “Mer—You say no one listens to you, but that’s not true. I hear you. That’s what this is. This is me, hearing you and taking steps to give you what you wanted.”
I step back. “Excuse me? When did I ever mention wanting to move to Colorado Springs?”
“Fine. But you know what I mean. How many times have you gone on and on about how you didn’t come back to Logan county to settle down?”
Maybe it’s just me here, but this is beginning to feel like my own words are being used against me. Twisting them to make this my fault. And it’s kind of pissing me off.
“Okay. I fail to see how that statement, however many times I may have made it, gets us here.”
Gabe’s eyes narrow. I know the look. He’s pissed. But this is the first time he’s looked at me that way in eighteen years. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life confined to the room you grew up in?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Obviously not.”
“Well. You’re tired of constantly defending every decision you make to your parents, aren’t you?”
I nod.
“And you don’t see a lot of career opportunities for yourself back there, do you?”
“Gabe, it’s…”
“Hang on now,” Gabe interrupts. “You said you wanted to understand, right?”
His words are cold, and his tone is making me angrier by the minute. I nod again.
“Well. Down here…you pick a direction and I’ll bet you anything you want, within ten miles you’ll find at least two companies hiring people
like you. Or don’t work at all. That’s up to you, but at least here, you have the choice.”
Anxiety wells inside me. “What about you? Suppose we did move. What would you do for work?”
Gabe’s eyes light up. “I’m glad you asked. I’ve got that covered too. I reached out to some old business associates from my construction days down here.”
“And?”
“And…the guy who bought my old company just so happens to be looking for a foreman to head up one of his crews.”
“Gabe, I think we need to pump the brakes a second. You would leave your family, just like that?”
Gabe crinkles his brow. “I don’t understand, Mer. What’s the problem? Don’t you like it here?”
“Well, I mean…from what I’ve seen so far—which would mostly be this park—sure, it’s wonderful. But, you’re suggesting we upend our entire lives, yours most of all by the way, and move hundreds of miles away. Have you thought this through?”
Gabe steps back, offended by my words. “What have I not thought through? I was up all night thinking this through. Please, explain to me where exactly, I missed a step and fucked up? Have you changed your mind and decided you want to live the rest of your life in Logan county? Do you like being under the constant scrutiny of your parents? Do you have a lead on a career opportunity back there? Because that would certainly be news to me.”
My hands move to my hips. I don’t like the way he’s talking to me like…like everyone else does.
Gabe looks at his feet and exhales a deep breath through his nose. “Apparently, this was a bad idea.” His tone drops to just above a whisper. “We should start for home.” He reaches for my hand, but in my anger and confusion about what’s happening, I jerk away. I don’t intend it to come off as shitty as it does, but I’m frustrated and trying to process the magnitude of the situation.
“Fine,” he says as he turns back on the trail. “I’m leaving.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Meredith
For the first forty-five minutes of the drive home, neither of us speaks, or coughs, or makes a sound of any kind. It’s the noise of my stomach growling over and over that finally prompts Gabe to speak.
“You hungry? We can stop wherever you like.” The resentment in his voice is gone.
I continue to look out my window. “A little.”
Gabe hands me his phone. “See if you can find something that looks appealing.”
After a quick Yelp search, and some help from the GPS, we’re walking into an Italian restaurant tucked away in a strip mall off the highway and my mouth is watering at the thought of breadsticks. We order our food, and engage in polite conversation with the waiter, but Gabe and I barely say two words to one another through the meal. I hate this tension between us and want to find a way to move past this—whatever it is. When there’s nothing left on our plates to keep our attention, I break the silence. “Gabe, about before.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin.
Gabe slowly waves his hand, dismissing the topic. “Forget it.”
His willingness to ignore the issue strikes me the wrong way. “No. Don’t do that. Help me understand. How did you think today was going to go? You wake me up with some random trip, leave me in the dark about it for hours, and then get your feelings hurt when your big idea to bend our lives, like one hundred and eighty degrees, doesn’t have me leaping into your arms, overwhelmed with joy?” With each sentence, the heat behind my words intensifies. I feel myself growing angry all over again, and the look on Gabe’s face indicates he feels the same way.
“We should probably get back on the road,” Gabe suggests, trying to change the subject.
I grab my things and slide out of the booth without looking back. “Fine.” When we get to the parking lot, I turn to face him. “It’s going to be a long damn drive if you don’t man up and admit this was a dumb idea.”
Gabe’s eyes narrow as he swallows back whatever mean thought came to mind and, whatever it is, it’s one I probably deserve for being so coarse. It’s not an excuse, but in my defense, I’m running out of ideas to get him to talk and, I can’t take this tension between us.
He clicks the fob in his hand and unlocks the truck, but doesn’t bother coming around to open my door like usual. Instead, he climbs into the cab, starts the engine, and stares out his window while he waits for me to get in.
What’s that saying about hell, fury, and a woman scorned? Because I get it. I totally get it.
While a rational person would think better of the idea, I am not in a rational state and so, I continue pushing him as we drive. “Seriously, what the hell were you thinking? Did you ever stop to consider what I might want?”
Gabe shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders one at a time, as he tries to relieve the tension in his neck.
“Well?”
Gabe replies through clenched teeth. “I told you before, this was all because I was thinking of you. Obviously, that was a mistake.”
Deep down, I’m certain that whatever this was, he meant well. But this idea has echoes from our past, and they are too strong to be ignored. Did he do it again? Did he map out the next few years for both of us, plotting out what he wants and assuming I’d follow him wherever? Did he somehow think I’d be happy about it this time? As if by magic.
My eyes fill with tears at the possibility that, for all his promises to the contrary, this surprise proves he’s no different than everyone else. Exactly the kind of man I didn’t want to get involved with again. A leopard can’t change its spots. I should’ve known better, and now I feel like an absolute fool and that pisses me off. Royally.
“So, this is my fault?” My words are harsh and come from nowhere.
“Huh?” Gabe’s brow raises. “How do you mean?”
We exit interstate seventy-six and I know we only have a few more minutes until I’m home.
“Before. You said you were thinking of me. So, if I didn’t like it, then you must think it’s my fault. That I’m in the wrong because I didn’t fall in love with the idea.”
Gabe twists his head, cracking his neck. “I didn’t say any of that.”
“See, there it is. You didn’t say it. But you are thinking it, aren’t you?”
“Goddamn Mer—you really want to know what I’m thinking?”
“Yes. Please enlighten me so I don’t have to keep guessing.”
“You sure about that?” he asks.
“I’m fucking positive.” I cross my arms and brace myself.
“Fine. Like I told you hours ago, I was thinking about you. How you want to raise a family, and have a career, and not have to defend your every decision to your parents. I was thinking that maybe, by giving up everything in my life for you and the baby, you might show a smidge of appreciation. God forbid you realize how humbling it was to reach out people who used to work for me and ask them for a job. Nooo. Let’s not bother worrying about Gabe here.”
However valid his other points might be, hearing him point out that he was going to sacrifice everything for me, as if I’m some kind of burden to him, sends me over an emotional cliff.
As Gabe turns up the drive, I wriggle the ring over my knuckle and when he pulls to a stop, I place it on the dashboard in front of me. “Gabe, I’m sorry.” My voice is barely a whisper and I can’t bring myself to look at him as I speak. “The last thing I want is to be someone’s burden.” And that’s it. I open the door, hop out of the truck, and burst into tears as I run towards the safety of home.
As much as I want him to, Gabe doesn’t chase after me, he doesn’t say a word. He just pulls away.
Chapter Thirty
Gabe
What the fuck just happened? I know I was pissed off, and yeah, okay, maybe I could have read the mood better, but she wouldn’t give it a rest with the what were you thinking?
So, I told her.
The way she left things, saying she didn’t want to be a burden? A burden? And then, giving back the ring? I was stunned. I’m still stunn
ed. I had no clue what to say or do, I was going off instinct, and ended up doing the worst thing possible, I left. Never, in a million years, could I have imagined that would be her reaction. I wanted to chase her down. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her tight. I wanted to apologize and tell her it was just a dumb idea, and if that’s not how she sees our future, then we’ll find another way. Together. But, considering every other step I’ve taken today came across completely the opposite of how I intended, it seemed like the smart play to resist what felt right to me, and give her time to clear her head. As much as I hate feeling this way.
I’ll give her tonight—tomorrow at the latest—by then she’ll be calmed down enough to let me apologize and explain that, our future is ours, and it doesn’t matter to me where we live, as long as she’s there with me. God, I can’t lose her again.
But, what am I supposed to do with myself until then?
I park the truck in front of my house just in time to catch Chet and Hank strolling into the barn. I glance at the clock on the dash. Shit, its after five. Perhaps I feel guilty about disappearing for an entire day, or maybe it’s because I can’t stomach the idea of being alone (or some combination of the two), but even knowing I’ll hear an earful from Chet, I hustle to catch up to my brothers.
“Hey boys. Are we ready to get after it today?” I joke as I enter the barn, rubbing my hands together. Judging by the look on either man’s face, it’s apparent my humor is not appreciated. Chet turns back to Hank without so much as a grunt and resumes their conversation.
I try again to engage them. “What’d I miss?”
“A day’s worth of work,” Chet answers.
“Glad to see you too, brother.” Chet’s words sting more than expected. “Okay. I give. You’re right.” I raise my hands. “I bailed today. I’m an asshole, I know.”
Hank chimes in, “You’ve bailed a lot lately.”
Sheesh, thanks man. Appreciate the help here—good to know I can count on you to kick a man when he’s down.