by M. Piper
Either way, I know for a fact that she can’t be with Hannah alone anymore. Not for a while, at least.
The rest of the week goes by without incident. If Gabby has any panic attacks, it’s not when she’s with me. She seems stable mentally, but she still hasn’t found a job. I worry about her going back with her family. Her mom, from the sounds of it, was terrible to her. She can’t live in that again. Even as an adult, I know that people just don’t get over their abusive nature. I won’t let her go back there.
“Hey, you ready?” she asks, popping her head in Hannah’s room. We’re heading out to see my dad this afternoon. A much needed day out of the city.
“Just about. Her stupid dress… button… thing…” I mumble, trying to figure out the snaps on this horrible concoction. Why are little girls so hard to dress?
Gabby laughs and walks over to where I’m kneeling on the floor. Stooping down, she picks up Hannah and laughs at me while walking to her closet. She acts so natural with her, and I now know why. She did this before. She raised a baby… for… uh…
“How old was he?” I blurt.
“Hmm?” She turns and looks at me curiously. I probably shouldn’t have chosen this time to talk about it, but I’m curious and I need to know.
“How old was you son?”
Her eyebrows pull together, and she cocks her head at me, glancing at Hannah and taking a long breath.
“He was just a couple months old,” she whispers, tucking Hannah’s hair behind her ear. “Noah.” She looks up at me. “Noah was his name.”
Now I understand a little more why Gabby’s been having a hard time with this. She never got to see her own son at the age that Hannah is at now. She never got to experience these moments with him.
“You sure you’re okay with… well, with all of this?” I whisper, walking over to her. I place my hands on her hips, ducking my head to make her look at me and, when she does, I see the tears forming in her light brown eyes. “Baby,” I whisper, leaning in and kissing her forehead.
“I just want to make you guys happy… and I don’t want to hurt you… and when we’re here, in this apartment, I know we’re safe and can’t get hurt. Out there, though… there’s crazies, and tractors, and killers, and the big mean world and I can’t…” She’s crying harder now, but, when I go to take Hannah from her arms, she resists. “No. No I need to hold her. I need her.” Her pained whisper makes my heart break for everything she lost. For everything she is still going through.
When she pulls Hannah into an embrace, and kisses the top of her head, my love for her swells to levels I didn’t know existed. She loves this little girl… my little girl. She loves her, and wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her.
“I’m going to pack the car,” I whisper, gently kissing Gabby on the forehead, then doing the same to Hannah.
My two girls.
“You do that.” She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. “I’m going to get this little one the best outfit ever.”
I don’t bring it up because she’s already upset, but I’ve been struggling lately making Hannah look ‘girly cute’ like she used to. My mom used to love helping out with her outfits, but, ever since she passed, I haven’t been able to make things match up right. Too many frills, and different shades of pink, and buttons and bows…. It’s all just a huge mess. Time with Gabby will be good for Hannah.
By the time we’re packed and ready to go, it’s Hannah’s morning naptime, so the drive to my dad’s is pretty quiet. Gabby’s hand stays tucked inside mine the whole drive, and I can tell she’s fighting demons, but I don’t bring it up. She’s smiling, but she’s distant.
Pulling into my dad’s house, it’s like Hannah knows the crunch of their gravel under my tires because she’s wide awake the second the rubber hits the rocks.
“Hey, guys!” my dad calls from the porch. He’s looking better and better each time I see him. For a while there, it was touch and go, but he seems to be accepting the changes taking place. Someone must be keeping up with the gardening my mom used to do, because the flowers and garden looks damn near pristine. Walking in the house, everything in here seems almost perfect, too, like no one’s even been living here!
“Dad, this place looks great,” I say, wandering in to the cleanest kitchen I’ve ever seen. “You doin’ okay?”
“Things are going real good, son. I’ve learned I have to live my life still… so I am.” He shrugs and takes Hannah out of my arms. “Hello, my sweet cakes. Papa missed you,” he says, walking into the living room.
“This is so bizarre. My dad never did this stuff when I was growing up,” I say, shaking my head at the clean countertops.
“Death changes people,” Gabby whispers from the doorway she’s leaning on.
I nod contemplatively.
“It sure does.”
Just Go For It
Gabby
“I’m sorry ma’am. We’re just not looking for any help right now,” the woman on the phone says sympathetically. I sigh and thank her, hanging up and throwing myself back on my bed.
Two weeks without a job has made my panic start to swell. I’m not going to be able to pay rent. I can make part of it, and maybe stay a few more weeks, but that’s it. Unless I find a job today, I’m out of here. This place was my first place I got on my own without the help of anyone. Sure, I haven’t lived at home for years, but I’ve always lived with someone. Jordan, a friend, a cousin, Annaliese… I never had a place all to myself, and I’m so proud of this place that it breaks my heart knowing I’ll have to leave it.
Dr. T told me that whenever I start to feel the panic rise I should keep my eyes open, focusing on something, anything, around me that I find to be attractive, and count to ten. It’s supposed to help me think about positive things in the present rather than focusing on the negative from the past. It’s worked about half the time. I blacked out yesterday shortly when doing dishes and cut my finger pretty bad, but that’s been it really. The other episodes were difficult to live through, like when I finally got home from Benton’s the night after I told him about everything… I seriously thought he was never going to speak to me again. I thought I ruined everything. Granted, I had to leave because he was going to work, but my brain told me he was kicking me out. I’ve learned to live with the self-doubt, but I’ve also learned to love him and Hannah in ways I never thought I’d let myself, and it scares the shit out of me.
Benton hasn’t mentioned anything about moving in with him again, but I’m starting to wonder if he really meant it. If I have to leave here, I need to have a place to go. I said I could go to my mom’s, but that was just a kneejerk reaction. I don’t trust that whore. Especially since the last thing she said to me was threatening… I’d be okay if I never saw her again. I don’t want to ask Annaliese because she and Adam are getting married next week, and the last thing they need is to have me move in with them.
Instead of lying here, wallowing in my self-pity like I really want to, I get up and shower. Maybe surprising Benton at his work today will make both of our days better.
Walking into his office, I first notice the woman working behind the desk. Too pretty for her own good.
“I’m here for Benton James,” I say, tapping my finger. I hate buildings like this: big, busy, way too clean. I know Adam has money, but this doesn’t have any personal touches to it at all.
After finally allowing me past her desk, she walks me to Benton’s office and nods when he smiles and waves me in. He’s on the phone, so I get to take a few moments to look around where he spends most of his time. There are a few awards on a shelf, and his framed degree sits next to them. Photos take over his desk space, and I smile when I see one he took of Hannah and I a few weeks back. He thought enough of it to put it in a frame on his desk?
How’d I ever find this guy? He’s perfect.
And hot.
Seriously. I see him a lot in casual clothes: jeans, t-shirts, shorts… But not very often do I get to see this Benton
.
This Benton whose well-tailored suit looks like it was designed just to fit his body type, sculpted muscles and all. Benton, whose hair is even well sculpted. This Benton is making me want to do all kinds of things to him that aren’t ‘office friendly’. The look he gives me lets me know he’s thinking the exact same thing. I came here just to see him, but now my mind has a whole different agenda.
“Craig, we need to finish this another time,” he practically growls as I walk back and shut the door, feeling the heat pooling between my legs at the thought of doing him in his office. Clicking the lock, I hear him groan. “No, that account… fuck… listen, I’ll call you back, Craig.”
I turn and start playing with the strap of my dress, slowly slipping one strap down my shoulder, a grin playing on my lips as he growls to the man on the phone.
“Jesus Christ, Craig. I’m hanging up, I’ll call you back.” Slamming the phone down, he narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. “Awfully forward, aren’t we, Gabby?” His hand goes to his crotch to rub himself as I slowly make my way to him, dropping my dress to the floor right as I stand right in front of him. Turned in his office chair, he groans and leans in, laying gentle kisses along my abdomen.
“I thought you might enjoy a little company this afternoon,” I whisper. His lips travel up to find my pert nipple under the black lace bra I put on just for him. “Fuck,” I groan then hiss when his teeth come around it.
“Best surprise ever,” he moans, snaking his hand under my panties. “Fuck. So wet, Gabby.”
“Just for you,” I moan.
His fingers slide inside me, playing me perfectly, as he slams his mouth to mine. One hand inside me, the other snakes around my neck as he stands and lavishes me.
“I only have about ten minutes before my next meeting,” he says between kisses. I moan and nod my understanding that this has to be quick. “Bend over the desk.”
His demand has me burning with need for him. I love this side of him, and I don’t get to see it very often. Don’t get me wrong. I love the sweet side of him too, but, sometimes I need this and he seems to know exactly when. Grabbing the lace panties, he rips them off of me.
“Good God, Gabby. This ass is perfection,” he whispers, tracing his fingers down my ass and lets it rest on the one spot I’ve never let anyone go. Feeling me tense, he chuckles lightly. “Not today, love. I can’t fucking wait until you let me, though,” he says, leaning down to kiss my back as he pushes into me. A moan escapes me as he pulls back and slams into me, releasing a little of his gentle touch for a much rougher side.
Grabbing onto the edges of his desk, nipples pushed against the cool wood, he slams into me over and over, bringing me to the brink of orgasm.
“Fuck, Gabby.” He reaches around and starts to rub my clit with the prefect amount of pressure and gentleness. Unable to hold it at bay any longer, I bite into my arm to suppress the scream that wants to come out of me when my orgasm explodes around him. Thrusting one more time, he leans into me and latches on to my neck, suppressing a moan that would alert the entire office what we’re in here doing. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he murmurs into my neck. Groaning, he slips out of me and grabs a tissue to clean up before pulling himself back together. Grinning, I slowly pull my dress back up and reach for my shredded panties on the floor. “Leave them,” he growls. “I’ll take care of them.” He winks, and I melt right there.
Jesus Christ.
“I’m glad I could be of service to you,” I whisper, trailing my fingers down his face and gently kissing him. He takes my hands in his and smiles, immediately followed by scrunching his eyebrows as he lifts my hand to his gaze.
“What happened?” he asks, inspecting my bandage that has blood seeping through.
Fuck.
“I cut myself. It’s nothing,” I say, pulling my hand back.
“That looks bad, babe.” He reaches for my hand again, and I know it’s no use trying to hide it from him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Walking me back to his chair, he sets me down and leaves his office, just to return shortly with a first aid kit. He’s watching me intently, not letting his eyes leave me, and it’s making me nervous. He’s going to ask, I’m going to have to tell him, and then he’s going to judge me.
“What’d you do, Gabby?”
Called it.
“Cut myself,” I answer, grinning. The teenager in me wants to add a ‘duh’ in there, but I hold it back when the look he gives me tells me this isn’t a laughing matter. He pulls the bandage off, and I look away. I remembered seeing flapping skin yesterday when it happened, but I wrapped it so fast that I really didn’t have much time, or want, to inspect it.
“Jesus Christ, Gab. That’s bad,” he says. “How did you cut yourself?” His voice is growing angry, and I keep telling myself he’ll never hurt me. Never. He loves me. He’s not my mother.
“I had an episode. While doing dishes,” I whisper. He curses under his breath and starts cleaning it up. It burns a bit, but I’m trying not to show him that he’s hurting me. He’s doing it to help me, not because he wants to.
He sighs and wraps me up with new gauze and tape, kissing it gently before cleaning up his desk.
“I wish you would’ve called me.”
“Why? So you could drop everything to tend to my knife cut?” I try to laugh it off but he’s not joking.
“No. I know you can care for yourself, you’re very independent but Gab, I just want you to talk to me. If you have an episode, a flashback, if you black out, I want to know. I want you to talk to me,” he whispers, pulling me in for a hug.
I’d be calling you a lot, Benton.
“I’m okay. I promise.” I smile as best as I can and he sighs, standing and putting the kit in his desk.
“Any news on a job?” he asks, helping me stand and walking towards his door. I know he has a meeting, but I really don’t want to have to leave him.
I also don’t want to talk about this.
“No. Nothing.”
“My offer still stands, Gab. I meant it.” He’s looking me square in the eye, seriously offering his house for me to live in.
“You don’t have a spare bedroom, Benton.” I smile, watching him raise his eyebrows.
“You wouldn’t need one, Gab. I need you in my life, and having you there when I wake up would be the best thing ever. Think about it, and I’ll call you tonight,” he says, gently kissing my on the lips. “I’ve got to get to this meeting.” He winks and opens the door, allowing me to walk past him and out the door. “I like your freshly fucked hair,” he whispers, and then pinches my ass before walking down the opposite hallway, as I go to leave.
That man.
The rest of the afternoon goes by so fucking slow. I meet with Dr. T for a session and, though I’m still having episodes, he’s happy with the way I’m progressing. We’ve cut back on the amount of pills I allow myself to take during the day, substituting them with different coping techniques. I feel on edge all the time, more so than before, but he said that’s normal for someone going through what I am.
“So, how’s Benton?” He smiles and watches me for my reaction.
“Fine,” I answer, picking at the couch cushion.
“Any progress made with your relationship? You’ve talked an awful lot about him these last few sessions, but this one you’ve stayed quiet on that topic. Why is that, Gabby?”
“Because I’m scared to hear what you have to tell me,” I answer with a smartass tone, which brings a laugh out of him.
“Well, that’s probably because you know what I’m going to say already, and the answer scares you.”
When I don’t answer, he chuckles.
“Fine. He asked me to move in with him. As you know, I haven’t been able to find a job, so I’m about to lose my place,” I huff. “I told him I could move back in with my mom, but he just blurted out that I should just move in with him. It wasn’t because he wants me there, it was because he felt obligated.”
&n
bsp; “What makes you believe that? Hasn’t he showed you just how much he cares for you?”
“Yea, but he has a kid.”
“And you love him, right? Have you told him yet?”
I narrow my eyes at him and nod my head. He nods and grins at me, standing up.
“Listen, your time was up ten minutes ago… but I think you should do it, Gabby. It would be fantastic, for both of you,” he says.
I smile at him and nod, the lump in my throat stopping me from speaking.
Can I do this, really? Can I give up everything I’ve worked for to move in with Benton?
I guess I really don’t have a choice.
The entire drive to his place I’m so nervous that he’s going to take back what he told me, that, by the time I make it to my parking spot, I’m on the edge of an attack. Trying to breathe it out doesn’t work. I don’t carry ICE pills anymore, per Dr. T’s request, so my only other hope is finding something beautiful to focus on.
Near Benton’s place is a small park. It’s cool outside today, and there’s a dad with his little girl all bundled up like it’s winter time, pushing her on the swing. I can’t see their faces with the way they are standing, but I love the carefree scene in front of me. So innocent, so sweet, a father spending time with his daughter, probably giving the mom some time to rest, or maybe mom’s with the little newborn baby brother. It’s all so perfect in my head, these beautiful situations I’ve dreamed up for this father and daughter. Before I know it, I’m smiling, imagining this little girl all grown up, always a daddy’s girl, and tears are rolling down my cheek. But the attack isn’t threatening me anymore.
Pulling my mirror down, I quickly check for makeup smudges. When a knock comes at my window, I shriek, slamming the mirror closed to find Benton and Hannah smiling at me. Hannah’s cheeks are windblown, and Benton’s nose is red.
And they are wearing the jackets that the dad and his daughter at the swings were wearing. When my eyes flick to the swings, they aren’t there anymore… then it hits me.