by Nikki Chase
“But I knew two things.” Gabe holds up his index finger. “One, I couldn’t lose you, no matter who you were or what your name was.” His middle finger shoots up to join the other one. “Two, I couldn’t give my dad any hint that I wasn’t going to play along with his plan. I didn’t want him to quash my plan before I’d even come up with it.”
Gabe pauses as the PA system loudly calls for a Mr. Victor Smith to go to Gate 43.
“My dad is a spiteful man. And resourceful, too. That’s a scary-ass combination,” he says with a wry smile. “I was afraid he was going to use you against me. He could ruin your career, and I had no idea if you’d choose me over your career. I couldn’t be as selfish as to make that decision for you. I didn’t want to ruin your future.”
Warmth fills my chest as I listen to Gabe. The whole time, he was thinking about me, about how every little thing could potentially hurt me. “I do care about my work. But I love you more, Gabe.”
He stares back at me with bright eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “I love you, too. And I wanted you to make that decision yourself. That’s why I still have the Chicago ticket in my bag.” He leans forward over the small table and smirks. “But now that you’ve already said you’re staying, you’re stuck with me.”
In dramatic fashion, he pulls out said ticket for the flight to Chicago and tears it into pieces on the table.
“Oh, no. What am I going to do now?” I say with a flat expression.
“Ha. You should be scared, young lady.” His smile slowly fades and he continues his story. “So I had to take care of a few things first. I wanted to get a head start. And I wanted you to be in on it.
“Right now, my dad thinks I’m still at home, and you’re about to fly to Chicago. It’s going to take him a while to realize we’re gone.
“Meanwhile, we can take a leisurely stroll around the airport, or just sit here on our asses, drinking overpriced coffee. If he’d caught wind of my plan, he would’ve shown up here and done anything in his power to stop us from leaving.”
“Like what?” I ask, curious about what my former boss is capable of.
“I don’t know.” Gabe shrugs. “At the very least, he could buy a ticket and get onto the same plane as us. Do you want that?”
I quickly shake my head.
Twenty hours with that scary man who made me cry yesterday, in an enclosed space that could catch fire and crash at any time? Uh, no, thanks.
“Exactly,” he says. “He could follow us around, find out where we live, figure out where we work… He could do all kinds of things.”
I hesitate before I ask my next question. “Didn’t you suspect me?”
“Not at all,” he answers with full confidence.
“Why not?”
“I’d seen you struggle with something—some kind of a secret you were keeping from me. And I knew it wasn’t pleasant for you. It must’ve been difficult.” He smiles and stares at me like I’m something rare and precious. “You don’t have what it takes to be a bad guy, angel. You’re too kind. You couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Maybe.” I give him my best sinister smirk and raise my eyebrows. “Or maybe you’ve been fooled this whole time. You’re blinded by love.”
“I’m okay with that.” He shrugs. “I may be blind, but I’m also the happiest I’ve ever been. It’s a fair trade.”
“I could’ve been working together with my brother to set everything up.”
“But you weren’t, were you?” Gabe asks in a way that tells me the answer is obvious to him.
I shake my head.
“I told you I’d stick around no matter what. There’s no faking this.” Gabe puts his hand behind my head and pulls me into a kiss.
He tastes like caffeine, and a hint of nicotine. He only smokes when he’s under pressure—it must’ve been an absolute torment to get through last night on his own, coming up with a plan and making all the preparations himself.
“I should’ve been there for you,” I say, pulling away just enough to speak.
Gabe is barely two inches away from me, and I can feel his breaths on my skin. I can’t help but imagine those lips on my neck, on my tits, on my…
Obviously, I can’t just keep kissing him, or we’re going to end up doing something completely inappropriate, right here in this busy coffee shop. I don’t want to be dragged away by the cops for indecent behavior when we’re so close to getting away.
“Yeah. I told you. You should’ve picked up my phone call.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought up your plan faster,” I counter.
Gabe chuckles. “It wasn’t as easy as that, angel. It was really hard to think. You only have yourself to blame.”
“Hey,” I protest. “What did I do this time?”
“You made it hard for me to think clearly. I was losing confidence in my own judgement. I’m just gaining it back, thanks to the success of this covert mission.”
I giggle.
I’ve essentially been fired and probably blacklisted in various hospitals in San Francisco. As if that’s not bad enough, I’m turning down an offer from a prestigious hospital in Chicago to go live in Africa.
I must’ve gone crazy with love too, because it feels like we’re going on a fun adventure. Or maybe that’s because Gabe makes me feel so safe that I don’t even sense any danger at all.
“I didn’t do that to you, though. I didn’t do anything,” I say, still giggling.
“Angel, I made you give me a blow job in a hospital room, for fuck’s sake. When we were both supposed to be working,” Gabe says, lowering his voice.
I giggle even louder. “You totally did.”
“Let’s agree that I’m not the smartest guy there is when you’re involved. Unless there’s absolutely no other person who can do it, I’m not to be trusted to come up with important plans.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “I’m hoping this is the last such plan you’re ever Ghana have to come up with anyway. We’re not Ghana see your dad in Ghana.”
Gabe laughs. “Okay. I get it. It’s a bad pun.”
Bad pun or good pun, we’re too giddy to care.
As if we’ve inhaled a tank of laughing gas, we continue to annoy the sleep-deprived travelers around us with our excessive exuberance.
We only leave when we hear the announcement saying that our flight is boarding soon. With our hands linked, we’re ready for anything.
Jacqueline
Six Months Later
“Me wia me djuma,” I say to the security guard standing at attention by the main hospital entrance.
Even though the official language in Ghana is English, the locals still speak Twi pretty extensively. That’s why I’m trying to pick up a few useful words and phrases from Gabe and my co-workers at the hospital.
I just told the guard that “I have finished my job.” I’d heard people say that phrase at the end of their shifts, so this morning I asked one of the nurses to teach me how to say it correctly.
The guard seems surprised to hear me speak Twi, but he recovers just in time to give me a smile before I walk out of the cool, air-conditioned building through the glass automatic doors.
The sultry, tropical air blasts me in the face, and almost immediately, my skin grows sticky from the heat.
Luckily, it’s a short walk to Gabe’s car, which is already waiting for me. My sandaled feet move briskly, urged on by my impatient heart.
It’s also dark outside, so it’s not as stifling as it gets during the day. If the sun were out, I’d be roasting under my floral sundress on my walk across the big, uncovered parking area.
Things are good, though. Aside from the heat, I’m liking it here. I can see why Gabe had chosen to live here for years.
As it turns out, my fears about living in a foreign country—in Africa, no less—were unfounded. Most of the images I’d seen of the continent showed endless deserts, ancient hunter-and-gatherer tribes, mud huts, and of course, starving children.
But it’s
nothing like that, here in the sea-side city of Accra, Ghana. I just found out that expats often come here first before they move on to more challenging countries, like Angola or Nigeria.
If anything, it’s kind of boring here. Sleepy.
I don’t mind, though. After all that drama Gabe and I went through back in the States, I could use a little peace and quiet.
It makes me feel bad to admit this, but it’s also nice to not have to see Mom or Ray as soon as I get home from a long day at work. My conscience doesn’t like the fact that I’ve left my family behind, but they’ve left me no choice.
Now instead of them, I get to see the love of my life at the end of the day.
I pull open the car door and my heart leaps with joy at the sight of him. Even in jeans and a T-shirt, it’s obvious that Gabe’s a beautiful man. He turns his attention from his phone and looks at me with his sharp, penetrating gaze.
I can’t help but have a big smile on my face. It’s automatic. I’d always light up for him. “Hey, you. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, angel.” Gabe’s lips widen into a panty-melting smile, and I almost wish we were going straight home. He asks, “Ready for our date?”
“A date with you?” I wrap my arms around him and kiss his smile. Putting on a serious expression, I say, “I was born ready.”
Gabe grimaces, which makes me burst out laughing.
I told him all about how I’d always had a crush on him, for as long as I could remember. And it still seems to weird him out a little bit to think of me as a baby and him as a third-grader, or me as a third-grader and him as an eleventh-grader, and so on.
“You need to stop saying things like that,” he says.
Of course, this kind of a reaction from him only makes me want to tease him even more. “You know, when I was a little girl, whenever Ray would be mean to me, I was secretly happy if you were around. I knew you were going to save me.”
“Well, you’ve come a long way.” Gabe’s gaze roams all over my curves, making me feel self-conscious about the way the seat belt presses against the valley between my breasts. “There’s nothing little about you now.”
“Are you calling me fat?” I accuse playfully as Gabe pulls the car out of the parking lot.
“Of course not. You’re perfect, angel.” He laughs. Cool air escapes the car when Gabe rolls the window open to show the parking attendant his permit. He turns to me and cocks an eyebrow. “I just mean that… you’re now old enough for this ride.”
From the way he smirks, I know exactly what he means.
I feign shock and outrage. “Oh my God. Are you calling me fat and old?”
We both laugh as the car joins the heavy traffic on the main street.
This is going to be a long ride. But as long as Gabe’s with me, I know I’ll enjoy it.
We drive out of the crowded city and through green hills to reach the nearby town of Aburi. We have a nice dinner at this little open-air restaurant, and now we’re driving up into mountains.
The air is balmy, which makes for a pleasant drive. We roll our windows down, letting the breeze in to cool my skin and play with my hair. It’s nice not to be pestered by window-washers and peddlers of plantain chips every time we stop, which happens all the time in Accra.
On the slow, lazy ride up, we’re treated to glimpses of the town, with its pretty lights in the distance.
I’m telling Gabe an old story about him that I heard from Sam. “Do you remember a girl called Nancy? Sam told me you were friends in medical school.”
“Not really.”
Gabe has been giving me short answers since he started driving again after dinner. I figure he’s concentrating on navigating the winding roads in the dark, so it’s my job to entertain him.
According to Sam’s story, Nancy was super into Gabe but he didn’t have a clue. The first time I heard it, I was privately pleased that Gabe didn’t do anything with this girl, although I didn’t tell Sam.
“You went out for drinks this one time—you, this Nancy girl, Sam, and some other people. At the end of the night, she said she was too scared to take the cab home on her own, so she asked to crash at you guys’ place,” I say.
“A lot of people crashed at our apartment. It was pretty central.”
“So you still don’t remember her?” I ask.
“Nope,” Gabe answers distractedly.
“So she came to your place. Sam knew she liked you, so he gave you some space to be alone, but he could hear your conversation from his room.”
“Okay.”
“She told you she was horny. She said her vibrator had run out of batteries, and she asked you to help her.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sam was getting ready to put on his headphones because he didn’t want to hear you having sex with this girl,” I say. “But then you asked her what kind of batteries they were, and you took the AAs out of your remote control and gave them to her before you went back to your room and left her to sleep alone on the pull-out couch.”
Finally, I get a soft laugh out of Gabe. “I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah. Sam thought it was hilarious, so he didn’t tell you and just watched from the sidelines as this girl gave you more super obvious hints. She gave up eventually.”
Gabe shrugs. “I probably wasn’t interested in her anyway.”
“Sam used to tell me stories about how girls were falling all over themselves to get your attention,” I say. “These stories always made me so jealous, but I could never stop listening to them.”
Gabe remains silent, but his lips curl up to form a small smile. “I miss him.”
“Me, too.” My chest tightens as I remember how nice it was to have those stupid little chats with Sam.
Looking back, I realize some of the things he told me weren’t exactly age-appropriate for me, but he was trying his best to maintain a connection with me, even as he was growing up and struggling himself.
“We’re here,” Gabe announces as the car comes to a stop.
In front of us is a bird’s-eye view of the city. Warm, yellow street lights dominate a big patch of land, only to give into darkness as the urban turns into the rural.
“Gabe… This is beautiful.”
“I know,” he says with a hint of pride in his voice. “That’s why I brought you here.”
We get out of the car to take in the scenery.
“I feel like I have my own personal tour guide, who also happens to be an expert in immigration issues.” I lean on the warm hood of the car and give Gabe a grin. “Oh, and he’s pretty good in bed, too.”
“Just pretty good?” Gabe asks with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll make you take that back tonight,” he promises in that deep, authoritative voice that turns me into mush.
I smile to myself. That’s exactly what I want. There’s nothing in the world that’s better than the feeling of being desired by Gabe, being wanted so much that he turns into a primal beast.
“You know, angel, I feel like I’m the one who’s lucky to have you here,” he says, breaking the silence. “I was content before, when I was on my own. I was used to being alone. I knew people, of course, co-workers I could go out for beers with, but…” Gabe’s voice trails off as he looks into the distance. After a few seconds, he takes a deep breath and continues, “But I wasn’t interested in having people get close to me. I was afraid that I’d hurt them, just like I hurt Sam. He was my only real friend, and I…”
Again, Gabe grows silent.
“You know, it wasn’t your fault.” I’ve told him this many times, and I’ll repeat it again as many times as it takes for him to get it. “I know Ray and my dad tried to pin it on you—successfully—but I don’t think you did anything to Sam at all. He was the one who made that decision.’
“Ray and your dad had a point,” Gabe says. “It wouldn’t have been so easy for Sam to do what he did without my help.”
“He was an
adult and he was responsible for his own choices. His death is not your burden to bear. If anything, my mom and dad should’ve been the ones put on trial, because they’d failed Sam. They’d failed all their children with their selfishness.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Gabe rests his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. He feels warm. “I’m glad you turned out great despite them.”
I laugh nervously. “I don’t know about that. I feel responsible for my family’s craziness, like I have to protect the world from them. That’s why I never brought my friends home to meet my family, and I didn’t like it when Mom or Ray came to visit me at work.”
“Yeah. Because you’re the sane one,” Gabe insists.
“I guess I can thank Sam for that.” I give in and take the compliment.
Gabe is quiet for a while, then he asks, “Do you like it here, angel?”
“Of course,” I say quickly. “I mean, I don’t like it when the Internet is slow or the power goes out… or when I’m stuck in traffic for hours… but I’m actually getting used to the whole thing. I like that this place forces me to stop and take things slow for a while.”
“Oh, I know how much you like being forced.” Gabe gives me a smirk that makes me blush in the dark. We’re in a long-term relationship and we live together, but he still makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter. Gabe asks, “So you’re happy here?”
“I’d be happy anywhere as long as I’m with you.”
“I love you.” He gives me a peck on my cheek. His stubble tickles me and makes me giggle.
“I love you, too.”
“Can you see yourself living here—maybe not forever, but long enough to raise children here?” Gabe asks again.
What is it with these questions? It’s starting to feel like he’s reading them out from a list he’s already prepared beforehand.
“Our children?” I ask back, turning the question on him.
“Why do you ask? Did someone else tell you he was going to put a baby in you? Tell me who and I’ll ruin his life,” Gabe says in mock anger. He chuckles, then in a softer voice, he adds, “Of course our children. Can you see yourself doing that?”
