by Raine Thomas
“You were also afraid that it would end like all of your other placements,” he finished.
She nodded.
“Anyone would tell you that’s perfectly understandable.”
Finishing her water, she leaned over to put her empty glass on the small plastic table beside the swing. Then she settled back into her position beside him.
“That first day in a new home…it’s full of tension and hope,” she said. “You want to be absolutely perfect so your caregiver will like you, but of course you can’t. No one is.” After a pause of reflection, she said, “I walked into Mrs. B’s kitchen that first day with all of my worldly possessions and saw you sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich.”
“It was peanut butter and jelly,” he said helpfully. “Grape.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “How do you remember that? That was nearly six years ago!”
“I remember everything about that day.”
Not sure what to say, she continued to stare at him.
“I want to hear your version,” he encouraged.
Giving him a thoughtful frown, she relented and eased back against his chest. Recalling the memory, she continued, “When I saw you, I remember thinking, ‘God, I’m hungry’ and ‘God, he’s cute’ almost at the same time. It was the first time I remember thinking about a boy that way, actually.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. It made her smile. “And you offered me half of your sandwich before you even knew anything about me,” she remembered now.
She hadn’t known what to make of that. After so many years of forming connections with people only to have those connections severed, her faith in humanity had been all but extinguished. Likewise, she had come to the only possible conclusion that she was simply not worth loving and keeping around. Gabriel’s offer of half of his sandwich when they first met had been the first of many steps toward helping her regain some of the faith she had lost.
And she realized now she had also lost a piece of her heart to him even then.
“Do you remember your response to my offer?” he asked.
Thinking back, she couldn’t recall exactly what had been said. She shook her head.
“You said, ‘Who are you?’” He gently ran his fingers through her hair. “I remember the sight of you standing in the kitchen, looking around with an expression that said you liked what you saw, and that it seemed to worry you. You had a big, dark bruise under your left eye. I’ve often wondered how you got it.”
Oh, yeah. She had nearly forgotten about that. Sensing that he wanted an explanation now, she fidgeted uncomfortably. “I was in a fight. At the shelter.”
“Mm-hmm.”
There was another long pause. Sighing, she continued, “There was this boy, Phillip. Everyone called him Porkchop. I don’t know how old he was, but he seemed huge to me…too old to be in the same dorm with the twelve- and thirteen-year-olds. He cornered me in a bathroom.”
“What?” Gabriel’s hand stilled on her head. There was a tone to his voice that she couldn’t ever remember hearing before. It was chilling.
The words came out in an anxious rush now. “He had followed me inside while everyone was out on the playground. I had to use the bathroom. Usually one of the staff at the shelter escorted us, but I hated it when they stood outside the bathroom listening to me pee, so I slipped away when they weren’t paying attention. When I opened the bathroom door to go back outside, Porkchop was there. He clocked me before I even noticed him. Then he dragged me back into the bathroom.”
Gabriel’s body was now rigid with tension. She hated that she was the cause of it. “I swung and managed to break his nose, and just about that time, one of the shelter staff came in with another kid and saw what was happening. That was it.”
Several breaths passed in silence. She didn’t know whether to break it. Eventually, he relaxed.
“That’s why your DFCS worker got the funds approved to start you in karate,” he murmured thoughtfully. His fingers resumed their idle play with her hair. “I’ve always wondered if she was trying to protect you from me.”
“You?” She shook her head and rubbed his knee. “I overheard Mrs. Harris arguing with her supervisor about placing me with Mrs. B after the incident with Porkchop. The supervisor knew that Mrs. B had become your legal guardian after your mama passed, and she was worried that I would react poorly to you after what had happened. Mrs. Harris knew that Mrs. B was pretty much my last hope. The karate lessons were a compromise so the supervisor would agree to the placement.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s very interesting, listening to the story about that day from your perspective. I appreciate you sharing that with me.” He reached over and put his glass on the table. When he sat back, he wrapped his arms around her. “Here’s what I remember.
“Mrs. B told me that we were going to have a new foster coming to stay with us. That wasn’t anything new. I’d lived here since I was nearly a year old and had seen plenty of kids come and go. This time it would be a girl about my age. I remember wishing at the time that it was going to be a boy. The last girl Mrs. B had fostered used all the hot water when she showered and spent most of her time in the bathroom.”
Amber smiled. She would have loathed living with that girl.
“But I remember thinking it was cool that this new foster would be my age. We’d get to go to school together and hang out. I didn’t know how long you’d be staying with us, of course, but that didn’t really matter at the time. I remember Mrs. B having some closed-door telephone conversations with this new kid’s DFCS worker. It made me curious. Most of the kids who came here were placed by Child Protection Services, only temporarily removed from a home, waiting for a family member to come and get them. But in this case, the new kid was in the custody of Family and Children’s Services. This was different.
“And then the big day came. We didn’t know when to expect you, so Mrs. B sat me down with my lunch. I remember hearing the car pull up just as I took the first bite of my sandwich. Mrs. B wouldn’t let me go to the door and ‘ogle’ the new kid, so I had to sit at the table and strain to see out the front windows. Mrs. B went outside to speak with Mrs. Harris, and she sent you in.
“The first thing that caught my attention was the black trash bag. You held it in front of you like a shield, I thought. None of the other fosters had come without at least a backpack or gym bag. It was another sign that things were different with you. You held that bag without a thought, looking around the kitchen with that cool, but ever-so-fearfully-hopeful expression I mentioned earlier. You had on faded green cargo shorts that were too baggy and a yellow T-shirt with a ketchup stain on it. You wore your hair tied back in a ponytail with some cheap, plastic, yellow sunglasses pushed up on your head. Some beat-up, off-brand sneaks on your feet. And there was a scrape on your right knee and that vicious bruise under your left eye.
“I remember being awed. This is the face of courage, I thought. This is a girl who hasn’t had someone who would or could buy her a decent piece of luggage. A girl whose every last possession fits into a black trash bag. A girl who has literally taken a punch and is standing in front of me looking like she’s ready to fight the next fight.”
Amber listened, the emotion caused by his narration gripping her tightly around the throat. His scent enveloped her, a welcome balm.
“You were the most amazing girl I had ever met, and we hadn’t even spoken,” he said. “The sight of you knocked the wind out of me. And I knew instantly that you were meant for me.”
He shifted so he could lift her chin up and look into her eyes. “Of course, I took the safe route and offered you half of my sandwich instead of professing my undying love and devotion right then and there. And once I got to know you, I figured out you would tell me I was full of it if I ever told you that.”
An unexpected laugh escaped her. “You have always known me better than anyone.”
He smiled. “Of course I have.”
“You’re my best friend,” she said softly. “You and Mrs. B are all the family I have, and you’ve stood by me, even during…”
“Why don’t we call them The Incidents? Capital T, capital I?”
She managed a smile over his deliberately cheerful tone, though the topic was hardly one to be treated lightly and they both knew it. She sighed. “I know we need to discuss that, and soon. But for now, I just want this to be…”
“About us,” he finished.
“Yeah.” She touched the side of his face, felt the hint of stubble there. She saw emotion and moonlight reflected in his eyes. “As I said, you’re my best friend, Gabriel. I’ve loved you for years.”
Stunned, he said, “You’ve never said that before.”
“I know.” Her expression was somber. “I don’t think I could. Loving you as my best friend was one thing. Being in love with you is another, much bigger thing.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “Would this ‘much bigger thing’ involve kissing on a regular basis?”
She leaned up toward his lips in response.
The next morning, Mrs. B sat drinking her tea and reading the paper. Amber got up before Gabriel and shuffled into the kitchen to get herself a glass of orange juice.
“Good morning,” Mrs. B said, looking at Amber over her reading glasses. “How was the party?”
Amber closed the refrigerator after replacing the juice carton. “It was okay.”
Raising an eyebrow, Mrs. B repeated, “‘Okay?’ Did I just hear that correctly? Not ‘lame,’ ‘a waste of time,’ or ‘sucky?’”
Hunching her shoulders, Amber stared silently into her juice glass.
“Dare I ask what happened to upgrade this horrible social experience to an ‘okay’ time?”
The sound of a door opening had Amber’s eyes drifting to the kitchen doorway. “Well…”
“Good morning, Mrs. B,” Gabriel said cheerfully as he walked into the kitchen. He swooped down to kiss his guardian on the cheek. “Amber,” he added, moving around the table and giving her a quick kiss right on the lips.
There was a moment of humming silence as Amber and Gabriel looked at Mrs. B. She carefully removed her reading glasses and set them to the side. Her gaze moved thoughtfully from one of her charges to the other. “Well, well, well.”
She smiled. “It’s about time.”
Chapter Seven
“We’d like to welcome aboard all first class passengers to flight 1499. All passengers seated in rows three through six are now welcome to board.”
Amber snorted and elbowed Gabriel in the side as she watched the toothy attendant greet the few passengers about to board the plane. “Figures. We get to sit here pathetically and watch the hobnobbers board first. I should've known.”
They were seated in Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport at what Amber said was an ungodly hour of the morning waiting to board the plane that would take them to Dallas/Ft. Worth for their first layover and then on to Seattle for their second before finally arriving in Anchorage. After a few days in Anchorage, the plan was to embark on a tour of Kodiak Island. They then planned to venture to Fairbanks to finish out the trip. For now, they had a full day of traveling ahead of them. So far, nerves and excitement were staving off exhaustion from their early rising.
Gabriel grinned at her sarcastic comment. Then he stood up, hefting the single backpack they had filled as their carry-on, and took her hand. “Come on.”
“What?”
Greatly enjoying her reaction, he tugged until she got to her feet and then began pulling her toward the door leading to the boarding tunnel.
“Gabriel, they won’t let us on,” she argued, thoroughly perplexed. “I may not have ever been on a plane, but—”
“Welcome aboard,” the gate attendant said as she took the tickets that Gabriel extended. “Seats 3E and 3F. Have a wonderful flight,” she said, smiling and directing them behind her with a wave of her hand.
Giving Amber’s hand another tug to get her moving, he struggled not to laugh. Her expression couldn’t decide between shock and confusion. She allowed him to lead her down the ramp leading to the plane’s entrance. It was about halfway down the tunnel that she snapped out of it.
“Wait a minute here,” she said crossly, coming to a stop. “Let me see those tickets, Gabriel Reid.”
He handed them over to her, watching with further amusement as she pulled out the stubs and read the seat assignments. She would now be realizing why he had insisted on carrying the backpack and all of their paperwork through the baggage check and security.
“But how…?” She caught his gaze and her eyebrows slowly lifted. “What did you do?”
Taking her elbow, he once again began walking toward the plane. “I surprised my girlfriend for her birthday.” Seeing that she was about to protest, he said, “And before you even think about arguing, I know your birthday isn’t for another few days, and I know you thought that bathing suit for the pool party was your gift from me. Just be gracious and accept that I wanted to spoil you.”
He had obviously stolen the wind from her argument. She remained silent as they boarded the plane. They both looked around curiously as they stepped over the threshold into the belly of the plane, neither of them having traveled by air before. The flight attendant standing at the door must have noted their lack of experience, as she stepped closer to them and smiled.
“Can I help you find your seats?” she asked.
He thought she looked like someone’s charming and doting grandmother. The thought eased some of his nerves and brought an easy, polite smile to his face. “Sure, ma’am,” he said, putting a hand on Amber’s shoulder. “3E and F.”
“Oh, you’re right here up front.” The attendant walked a few steps past the first class kitchen and pointed to the first row of seats on the left. “These are bulkhead seats, so you’ll need to stow your bag in the overhead compartment.”
“Thanks,” he responded, watching as Amber moved in the direction of the seats. Lowering his voice, he asked the flight attendant, “Do you have orange juice?”
She gave him a kind smile and patted his arm. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks again.”
He took a few steps forward and nodded to the few other passengers already seated. They stared back at him. He figured they were wondering what two teenagers sporting jeans and T-shirts were doing in the first class section of the plane. Every one of the other passengers was wearing a suit or collared shirt and slacks of some kind, even the women. Considering the fact that he had needed to work quite a few auto-repair jobs on the side over the past six months to afford the upgrade, he guessed he and Amber were a tad underdressed.
Shrugging it off, he looked down at Amber, who had taken the aisle seat. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“You need to scoot over to the window seat.”
“You should take it,” she said stubbornly.
He just stared at her blandly until she huffed out a sigh and moved over. Then he took the aisle seat so the passengers behind him could board. He passed the backpack over to her. “Why don’t you take out what you want and I’ll stick the bag up in the overhead compartment?”
“Sure.”
She opened the zipper and grabbed her MP3 player and the novel she had brought for the trip. When she handed him back the bag, he reached in and took out a pack of gum, his own MP3 player and the Rolling Stone magazine he had picked up the day before. Setting everything on the armrest/beverage holder between their seats, he waited for a break in the flow of boarding passengers and stood to stow it. Before he had time to lift the bag up, he spotted a petite woman with short, curly brown hair and deeply tanned skin in the front of the coach section looking from her carry-on suitcase to the overhead bin with an assessing look in her eye. She hefted it as far as the empty seat beside her and gave the bin one more look.
After glancing around her and seeing that no one was paying
her any attention, Gabriel moved forward and gave her a smile. “I’ll get that for you, ma’am,” he offered.
“Oh, thank you,” she said gratefully, releasing her hold on the handle so that he could take it from her. Her eyes wrinkled at the corners when she admitted, “I had visions of taking out myself and several passengers with that thing.”
With an easy laugh, he asked, “Which bin?”
“That one, please,” she said, pointing to the one she had been eying.
He hefted the suitcase and slid it safely into position within the compartment. “There you go. No problem at all. Let me know if you need help getting it back down, hear?”
She blinked at him, then nodded and thanked him again. He made sure she took her seat, then stood patiently to wait for the aisle to again clear of passengers. As he waited, his gaze moved to the row of seats directly across from him. A businessman with gilded blond hair and intense dark eyes was sitting there staring at him without a hint of expression on his face.
Gabriel instinctively offered a questioning smile toward the stranger, who was looking at him almost like he knew him. The other man’s face remained impassive, though he did raise an eyebrow. Strangely, Gabriel thought there was something a bit familiar about him. But since he didn’t speak or introduce himself, he figured he had just seen him sitting in the airport terminal.
The crowd cleared and he pushed the stranger to the back of his mind as he moved back up to his seat. He grabbed the backpack from where he had left it and lifted it into the compartment above him.
“Can I help you with that?” the flight attendant asked from behind him.
Surprised, he finished setting the bag in the compartment and replied, “Oh—no, ma’am, but I do appreciate the offer.”
“My pleasure,” she said with a smile. Then she held out the two champagne flutes filled with orange juice that she held. “For you and your girl.”
