by M. Piper
“Uh…” I stammer, sitting down next to her. “She’s uh…” Shit. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that one. She caught me off guard. I was too busy admiring the beautiful woman in front of me to remember what really happened today. The severity of if all slowly hits me as I look around the room. Silently glancing at every picture I have of Hannah and my mom, my heart breaks all over again for the small, innocent child sleeping away. The one that’ll never get to know the grandma that loved her more than anything.
“What is it, Benton? You’re scaring me,” she says, turning her body to face me. She’s so damn beautiful, and I don’t know what I’d do without her in my life. Is that an insane thought? To feel that strongly for someone so soon after meeting them? Is seven months long enough to have these strong of feelings for someone? I look at her for the longest time, trying to come up with the words to tell her I no longer have a mother. She’s dead, and life isn’t fucking fair, but I can’t find the words. Shaking my head, I swallow the knot in my throat.
“Oh, Benton,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me. I thought I wanted mind numbing, but I really just want to feel… feel anything but this overwhelming sadness that’s come over me. She holds me like this for what feels like hours. Once her steady breathing has calmed my nerves, I’m finally able to find the words to talk about what happened tonight. I don’t have many.
“She’s gone,” I manage to whisper, the dam of tears threatening to spill over with each word I say.
“Oh, no. Oh God, baby.” She pulls back and puts her hands on the sides of my face, lifting my head gently to look at me. “What happened?”
“I… her heart,” I choke out, then the damn bursts and the fucking tears start to fall. I don’t even try to stop them. Instead of trying to talk any more about it, she pulls me to her and holds me there for the rest of the night. No words exchanged, no bodies move. She falls asleep on my lap with her head curled into the crook of my neck. It’s the most peaceful I’ve felt all fucking day, and it sucks so bad because I know, the minute she wakes up, she’s going to want to talk. Every woman does. They want to talk about feelings, and talk about what happened, and talk about plans.
I don’t want to talk. I want to move on.
When morning comes, Gabby is gone. I don’t remember when she got up and left, but there’s no note or anything from her this morning. The minute I get off the couch, I immediately regret sleeping on the couch last night, but falling asleep with her in my arms was worth it. I just wish she were here this morning. It pisses me off that she just up and left me in the middle of the night… especially after what I’ve been through. She could’ve been here for me.
When she calls as I get off the couch to make some coffee, I’m relieved that she’s at least okay, though I’m still mad at her for leaving. That is, until I hear her voice.
“Hey,” I answer. “Where’d you go this morning?” I try to have more emotion to my voice, but it sounds like a robot is talking when the words come out. That’s kind of what I feel like this morning, though: a robot, just going through the motions to keep things moving smoothly.
“I’m sorry, Benton. I had to get home. To take care of something.”
“Great,” I growl.
“I’m so sorry, babe. I just… I’m sorry. There was no way around it.” She sighs and I feel like an ass, but she walked out in the middle of the one night I needed her to stay. For me. “How are you this morning?” She’s trying, so I try to be nice and willing to have a conversation.
“I’m going over to my dad’s today. All the arrangements and shit need to be made.”
“Let me come with you,” she says quickly.
“It’s not going to be a fun day,” I warn.
“Are you trying to make me take back my offer? I want to be there for you,” she whispers. I know me trying to get her to understand how miserable today is going to be is making her think I don’t want her there, but she’s never had to deal with something like this before.
I have.
“Look, babe. I want to be there for you and Hannah. It’s going to be tough, and you’re going to need someone. Let me be that someone.” Her plead is heartwarming.
“When can you be ready by? We’re going to be leaving here in thirty,” I warn.
“I’m ready when you are. Come pick me up.” Her voice is happy again, and I feel a slight weight lifted off my shoulder that I don’t have to go through today alone.
Walking in to get Hannah, the perpetual knot in my throat seems huge as I watch her smile and giggle when I pick her up. Dealing with the death of a parent is hard enough. Dealing with the death of your child’s grandparent is devastating. She’s only one, so I don’t tell her what happened since she won’t understand. We just go about our morning as usual, albeit as quickly as possible, and pack our bags to head to my dad’s house. It’s supposed to be a workday, but there’s no way I’m going in today. Not until I know my dad is going to be okay.
On the drive to pick up Gabby, I decide to give Adam a call and see what last night was all about.
“Where the fuck were you last night, dude?” he demands, pissy already this early in the morning.
“Hospital,” I manage, watching traffic buzz by.
“Shit, dude… everything okay?” he stammers.
“No. My mom died,” I whisper, the words not wanting to come out.
“Fuck... oh shit, man. I uh… Shit…”A grin breaks on my stone features that the great Mr. Chicago is speechless finally. Sucks balls that it’s over a topic like this, though.
“Yeah, so, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking a few days off.”
“Yeah… absolutely. You need help with anything? Who’s with Hannah?” His workaholic tone from earlier is gone, and he’s back to best friend mode. Thank God.
“Nah, it’s fine. Gab’s coming with me today to help out,” I say nonchalantly, like we’ve spoken about the whole ‘Gabby’ situation.
“So you uh… You gonna be ok?” He knows how bad I was when Carly died. He was there for me every step of the way.
“Things suck, man,” I sigh. “But I have Hannah.” I smile, glancing in the mirror and see her sleeping already. “I have to be good.”
“You have more than Hannah, you know?”
“Yeah, man. I do,” I smile, parking in front of Gabby’s building. The smile grows as I watch her run through the rain that’s started so she doesn’t get too wet. “I absolutely know, Adam. Don’t worry.”
“Good,” he grunts.
“I gotta go, man. Gab’s here,” I say, as she hops in the car and slams the door.
“Treat him good, Gabby,” Adam warns.
She chuckles and shakes her head.
“I wouldn’t worry about me, Mr. Chicago,” she says sarcastically. “I’m still sticking to my promise from last year. Make your fiancé happy, Adam.”
He grumbles something, and hangs up shortly after. I’m slightly confused, but I don’t care enough to inquire. I don’t really want to talk right now. The mindless chatter with Adam was nice, but, the truth of the matter is, I’m about to go to my parents’ house for the first time since my mom died and I’m not sure what to expect. Do I act like it’s just a normal day? Do I try talking to my dad, or do I leave him alone? When this happened with Carly, Adam took care of a lot of the details because I couldn’t function. Am I going to have to do this with my dad?
About half way to their house, Gabby reaches over, and silently takes my hand in hers, running her thumb up and down mine, a silent reminder that she’s here for me. I’m thankful she hasn’t tried talking about my mom. I’m happy she’s here, and I’m thrilled that she seems to understand I need silence to help me cope.
By the time we make it to my dad’s, it’s late morning and he’s sitting on the porch. He’s changed clothes, and looks like he’s showered and shaven. That’s a good sign. Gabby gets Hannah out of the back without saying a word as I head to the porch, hands in my pockets, not entire
ly sure how to act right now. Inside, I want to curl into a ball and cry for weeks straight. My mom is gone. I’ll never get her back, but I can’t dwell on that. I can’t dwell on the sadness, because I have a life that relies on me. I have to be strong for her. For everyone.
My dad’s eyes are sad, but alert. He seems a little better than last night, but still looks like shit.
“Hey,” I manage, walking onto the porch. He nods and moves his gaze to Gabby, who’s a few steps behind me. “Oh dad… uh… this is Gabby,” I manage a weak smile and he smiles brightly at her.
“Hi,” she says happily. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope it’s okay I’m here.” She offers her hand for a handshake, but my dad surprises us both and stands to hug her.
“Thank you for being here, Gabby,” he whispers, then lets go and takes Hannah from her arms.
“Come on, sweet pea. Grandpa has breakfast to make my baby girl,” he tells Hannah, just like any other morning we come over.
I watch him, astonished that he could go from distraught to cheerful in a matter of seconds.
“Kids seem to help in times like this,” Gabby says, her hand resting on my elbow, like she can tell exactly what I’m thinking. “You good?” she asks, a reassuring smile on her face.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
She smiles and nods, then we head inside for a day filled with picking out my mother’s final outfit, making funeral arrangements, and entertaining a one year old.
By the time we leave, the sun it setting and Hannah’s asleep in Gabby’s arms. Gabby did fantastic today, and, other than a few moments when I caught her off guard and saw a few looks of panic on her face, she’s a total pro with Hannah and was the backbone between the three adults.
It’s like she knows exactly what we’re going through.
Who is this woman, and how soon is too soon to tell her I love her?
The Only One
Gabby
Last night, Benton made love to me. It wasn’t just sex, and it was a far cry from fucking. The look in his eyes said it all, but he never said the words. Every day when I wake up, I have to remind myself not to have an attack if he decides to finally verbalize his feelings for me. I see it, but it doesn’t mean I should like it.
I mean… I do like it. I love it. I love the feeling of being wanted, but I don’t like the feeling that I’m going to inevitably screw something up. I love being around him, I love watching him with Hannah, and I love the man he is when he thinks I’m not looking. All of it is what any girl would dream of, and what I used to dream of. The dream I had last night was all too real, though, reminding me that I’m not meant for this life.
***
“You good for nothing bitch,” she growls, kicking me again right in the stomach. I pray to a god I don’t even believe in that I’m not far along enough for it to hurt the baby, but I can’t be sure. I don’t have insurance, and I haven’t seen a doctor yet. I just know I’m pregnant, and that the baby belongs to my ex. The man who took the one thing I held dear, the one thing I had control over, and ran with it, leaving me with a child on the way. No income, no health insurance, no place to raise this poor tiny being… but I’m not giving up.
“I’m leaving, mom,” I say, cringing when I stand up. The pain in my abdomen hurts just a slight bit less than the hit I took a few weeks ago. Maybe she’s lessening her blows to make sure she doesn’t hurt the baby.
Doubtful.
“Right. With no man, no money, and no schooling?” She barks out a laugh, and then starts coughing through the smoke.
“I’m finishing school, Mom. I can do both,” I say, standing my ground. “There’s ways to do it. I won’t be a deadbeat.” Like you.
“Please. You do that, do finish school and get your fucking degree. You’re just like your fucking father, you know that.” Her insinuation that I’m like him pisses me off, and I storm out of the house to be met with the face of the first man I ever gave myself to.
And the father of my child.
“Gabrielle.”
***
“Hey,” Benton’s voice sooths my flashback, bringing me back into the real world. His arms wrap around me as I slide back down in bed. It’s amazing… I can take all the medicine in the world, but the best thing to calm me… the only, fastest thing… is Benton.
“Hi,” I say, smiling. Out of habit, my eyes flick to the clock and see the time. Seven a.m.…. One hour until the first round of pills.
Ever since the night his mom passed, I’ve been doubling up on some of my anxiety pills to help with getting myself through it. I haven’t had an episode like that night again, but there’ve been moments these last few days that I thought I wasn’t going to make it out of the room before breaking down.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, tracing his fingers down my arm. Every time his hands come to me, I get goosebumps, and, every time he notices, he traces them, smiling. Like he’s happy he can get a reaction out of me that easily.
“Nothing,” I lie. Everything’s on my mind, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t let on that I’m so broken, and have to fill up on pills every damn day just to function like a normal human being.
He nods and grins, then sighs and puts his arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
“You know, when I was younger, my mom and I would lay in her bed and stare at the cracks in the ceiling, seeing what shapes we could make out from them.” The chuckle that comes out of him makes me hope he’s starting to get through this disaster.
And a disaster it has been.
These last few days we’ve been through hell, but I like to think I’ve been able to help him through it and make it out on the other side unscathed. Benton loved his mom… he still loves her… and it shows in the way that he raises his little girl. I’ve watched him more this week than I’ve had the chance to these last few months, and, if I were capable of loving someone, I’d have fallen in love with him ten times over just from the way he treats Hannah.
“You’re gonna be okay, you know that?” I say, curling into him, tracing the tattoo lines on his chest.
“Yeah,” he says, then clears his throat. “Doesn’t mean I want to hear that,” he says, getting out of bed, and leaving me cold from where my body was pressed against his.
These mood swings have been a recurring thing these last few days too.
“Work tomorrow?” I ask, standing and stretching, choosing to ignore the anger starting to radiate from him. I’ve learned that if I don’t pay a lot of attention to his swings, then he calms down faster than when I pick a fight with him. I’ve seen him fight, I’ve seen what he’s capable of… and I know what being hit feels like. I’d rather not have it come from someone I care deeply about ever again.
“Yeah,” he clips, his tone a fragment happier. Pulling his clothes on, he sighs and rakes his hands down his face before looking at me. “Listen… I’m sorry, Gabby.” He walks towards me and circles his arms around me. “I’m just… shit,” he sighs.
“Hey,” I say, pulling back the slightest bit to look him in the eyes. His beautiful brown eyes that have been dark and stormy these last few days are starting to come back to life. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s been rough, babe. You’ve been so strong,” I whisper.
He clenches his perfectly sculpted jaw, the shadow from not shaving for a few days is starting to turn darker, making him look more distinguished. Just watching him look at me turns me on. It’s never been like this with anyone before. I’ve never felt so satisfied from just sleeping with one person; that’s why I always had multiple partners and liked to change it up. Ever since Benton, though, he’s been the one. The only one.
“I like this,” I say, smiling as I rub his face with my hands. “You should keep it.”
“Mmm,” he replies, leaning in to pull me in for a kiss. Moaning, I melt into his arms, and welcome the warmth, comfort, and peace that he brings me. “You’d probably like to feel what it’s like between those beautiful legs o
f yours, wouldn’t you?” His hand slips between my legs to start playing me and I feel the automatic heat and wetness from just one touch. Jesus, he’s good.
“Mmmm,” I moan, not able to form full words anymore. His fingers enter me and he groans, making me even wetter. “Shit,” I pant as he pushes me against the wall, and his lips come down on my collarbone.
“God, Gabby,” he moans, his fingers fucking me and rubbing me, sending me on my way to another mind blowing orgasm.
“I need you, B. I need you in me,” I pant, locking eyes with him. He grunts and lifts me easily, carrying me to the bed. Sitting me on the edge, he lets me take my time pulling the shirt off he just put on and flicking his nipple rings with my tongue. I love to hear his moans when my tongue plays the bars.
“God, Gab,” he growls. “Lay back, baby.” I do as directed, playing with myself, teasing him as he kicks his boxers off and grabs a condom.
“No,” I blurt. I hate condoms, and I want to feel all of him. I want… need… the connection to him.
He looks at me quizzically, a half grin playing on his lips.
“I uh…” Shit, Gabby, way to think before you speak! “I just want to feel you. All of you. I’m clean, I promise.”
“You sure about this? I mean… I’ve been fucking waiting for this day for months now… the day when I can finally be with you without this little bitch… but… are you sure?” He’s holding it in the air, waiting for my answer. I grin and bite my bottom lip, suddenly too shy to answer with words.
Since when is Gabby Rosdale shy? I’m lying here on this bed, playing with myself in front of a naked male… there’s no room for ‘shy’ in this scenario.
“Fuck yes,” he growls, then slides into me and rests his forehead on mine. “Oh good god, Gabby,” he pants, going to his elbows, and taking my face in his hands. His eyes collide with mine, and I see those three little words on the tip of his tongue.
Oh shit, don’t say it, Benton. Don’t say them.
“Mmm, Benton,” I moan, closing my eyes and throwing my head back to give him the silent invitation to move his lips a little lower, trying to distract him from saying those three words.