Breaking Ties
Page 3
I caught a glimpse of Gabe’s smile before my eyes darted to the little girl in front of him.
“You read my note, too?” she asked, turning to me.
“I did,” I recalled the sweet words she’d written to thank Gabe for all the wonderful things he’d done for her and her mother…and all of the kind things she’d even said about me. “It was a beautiful letter.”
“After everything you’ve given us,” Haley said, speaking for the first time since Gabe walked in the room and her daughter’s squeal interrupted the interview, “no amount of thanks will ever be enough.”
Gabe’s eyes met the mother’s.
“We’re glad to help however we can,” he said, tousling Amanda’s pin-straight hair before standing tall once again. “I was only stopping to say hi. I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
The little girl fought to smooth her untidy hair at once, but the wide smile and dimples on her cheeks gave away her clear admiration for his playfulness. With a wink, he started to walk away when I turned fully in my seat and stared in his direction.
“Excuse me, Gabe?”
He stopped and pivoted back. “Yeah?”
I loved the way he looked at me just then—yeah?—a lifted brow and curious stare, all shaded beneath that faded ball cap he favored so much. It amazed me how something as small as a simple look could leave me so breathless, and yet there I sat, unable to form even the smallest sentence … which wasn’t good, because I was the one who’d stopped him from leaving.
“Mandy?”
“Huh?”
“You need something?” His eyes widened as he looked around the busy dining hall, and I took the opportunity to shake myself free of whatever Gabe-induced trance I was in.
“Right, yes. You came over here just now—”
“To say hi.”
“But you never did,” I said quickly. “You didn’t say hello.”
There was a pause, a quiet moment when it seemed as if all the bustling around us had quieted to complete silence. Even little Amanda said nothing to that, and she hadn’t been at a shortage for words all night. She, like her mother and I, stared at him—his blue eyes burning on my face. The moments grew longer, quieter, and before too long, a small grin pulled at the edge of his lips.
“Hello, Mandy,” he finally said, and then his smile broke—full-fledged, ear-to-ear, and goofy as all get out.
“Hi, Gabe.” I tried to play it cool, not to let him know that his smile had gotten the best of me. But Gabe always got the best of me, and he would’ve been a fool not to know that by now.
He let go of a breath, and his chest fell with relief as he realized he was off the hook with a simple hello. I’d caught him off guard, put him on the spot. I kinda liked that.
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen. I sat staring at the door where he’d vanished, lost in a moment, hoping he’d come back out to shine that perfect smile or show his beautiful face once again. Even if we didn’t get past awkward hellos, it would’ve been worth it, just to stand there staring at him. But the seconds ticked by and he never returned.
A tiny throat cleared, and I snapped my head in Amanda’s direction.
“Hmm?”
“He’s your Prince Charming, isn’t he?” she asked, climbing into the chair next to mine. She twined her arm through mine and dropped her head on my shoulder, letting go of a small, dreamy sigh. “You know, like in the books and movies, when a princess falls in love and lives happily ever after with the handsome prince? That’s you and Gabe, right? He’s your prince?”
“Amanda,” her mother scolded. “That’s none of your business.”
“It’s okay.” I rested my head on top of the little girl’s, happy I couldn’t see the hopeful glint in her eyes.
“Well, isn’t he?” she asked again. “Is Gabe your happily ever after?”
There was a clear reason I didn’t answer her right away. I didn’t know how to answer her. I couldn’t very well destroy the childhood illusion of love, romance, and happy endings, nor could I honestly say that I believed in the notion of Prince Charming.
If there was one thing I’d come to learn in recent weeks, it was that nothing was ever as perfect as the movies or books led us to believe—not our friends, certainly not our families, not the men we fall in love with … and, most importantly, ourselves.
Yes. Gabe was the guy who’d weaseled his way into my heart with no apparent intention to leave. He was everything I could imagine holding on to forever, and yes … he was becoming a dream come true. But life and the relationships I’d witness blossom and just as quickly fall apart, they’d all taught me that even those good relationships, shared by the greatest people, have their hard times, their big secrets, and their major insecurities. I had them. Gabe had them. And those weren’t the kinds of things that those fictional happily ever afters were built on.
Happily ever afters were built on perfection, and perfection didn’t exist. There was no such thing as a real Prince Charming, a perfect life, or a seamless ending. It didn’t work that way.
But what I knew for certain was that there was Gabe, someone with history and intensity that I admired—someone who made me feel things I never dreamed I could feel, someone who’d sparked my passion for friendship, and who had an incredible knack for fueling my emotions—the good, bad, and the ugly. And how could I ignore a spark that made even the smallest things in life feel so intense?
It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like a great recipe for happiness. It felt right, and that was something I couldn’t walk away from. It was something I could never deny.
“You know what?” I said, and she perked up, eager to hear my answer. “I’m not sure Gabe is a Prince Charming, but if he were, I’d be happy to be his princess.”
That elicited a smile from both Amanda and her mother.
I thanked the both of them for allowing me to impose on their dinnertime, and I even extended an offer to Haley to help out from time to time—to take Amanda off her hands for a few hours here and there if she ever needed a night to herself. I didn’t want to lose contact with them after the program came to an end, and offering to babysit every now and then was the least I could do.
We exchanged numbers, and I collected my things and said my goodbyes for the evening. As much as I dreaded the return home to my father and sister, I couldn’t overstay my welcome. I left the Goodwins to their meals as I headed for the front doors of the church.
“Leaving so soon?”
I stopped the moment my foot hit the first concrete step. The dining hall door shut slowly behind me, drowning out the noise inside the building. I jerked my head to find Gabe as he turned the corner of the building, having left through the kitchen door around back. He didn’t come any closer, only stopped where he was and maintained those fifteen feet of distance.
“Yeah, I think it’s time to head out.” I readjusted the bag on my shoulder. “I’ve bothered enough people for one night. Georgia will be happy with the interviews.” I tilted my head and stared at him, noticing that he’d stopped looking at me and riveted his stare to the dark, night sky. He kept his gaze fixed there, looking as though he hadn’t heard a word I’d said to him. “Gabe?”
“Hmm?”
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
“Did you read my note?” he asked quickly, turning to look at me.
His quick, shallow breaths left his mouth with a rasp, and though his eyes were now fixed on me, I could sense his eagerness to look anywhere else. He was running on nerves, much like I was back in the dining hall. It was in his voice, the way his hands fidgeted at his sides. It wasn’t the cool, collected Gabriel Raddick I was so used to being around. Something had changed in a matter of minutes, and this version of him was much more reserved, a little more tuned into the fact that we were completely alone—that there was nothing standing between us. It was a Gabriel Raddick that suddenly realized the ball was no longer in
his court, and he was now waiting impatiently to learn whether or not I’d read the endearing note he’d scribbled onto a card and handed me yesterday.
“Your note?”
“The note I gave you,” he said. “Have you read it?”
I shook my head, playing dumb at his expense. It was cute, the way he let his nerves get the best of him. For once, it was nice not to be the one blubbering.
“Oh, right,” I said, nodding. “Yeah, no. I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Oh,” he scratched the back of his head. His eyes shifted to the ground, and he kicked the pebbles at his feet. “Well, if you get time—”
“Gabe?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m kidding,” I said, and he peeked up at me before lifting his head again completely. “Of course I read your note. And … ”
I thought about Dad, the way he adamantly refused to give me permission to go on the date. He wasn’t about to change his mind, not after the way he’d yelled at me earlier. But I felt like the biggest problem Gabe and I had was our horrible timing. The timing had never been right. I knew he cared for me, probably as much I as cared for him. No guy would keep coming around if he didn’t care, and Gabe kept coming around. He was always pulling for me, for us—he’d proven that every time he’d shown up out of the blue, even when we were risking everything by being seen together. And now that the time had finally come and we were so close to having our chance, the only thing standing in our way was Dad’s approval.
I couldn’t stand for that.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“I’d love to meet you at the park on Saturday,” I said, pushing all thoughts of Dad aside. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and if he did happen to find out … well, I’d cross that bridge when we got to it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t expect his surprise, but there was genuine shock in his stare. He had to have known that I’d read his note the moment we parted ways. If Gabe knew anything at all, he knew how I felt about him. I hadn’t been the least bit reserved about expressing those feelings. Of course I would want to meet him at the park—before sunrise, after sunrise, with pizza, or without it. I didn’t care. I wanted to spend time with him. I wanted our love story to begin.
“Great, yeah,” he nodded, standing tall again. “So then … I’ll see you in a couple of days?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” I tried to play it cool, because one of us had to, and God knew it wasn’t going to be him. I loved that. I loved that I seemed to be the one person, the one thing, that could trip him up and make him lose his composure. “See you then.”
I walked by him, cool in my stride as I made my way to the edge of the parking lot and to my car. I felt his eyes glued to my body the entire time I moved. I reached the driver’s door of the car and turned back, only to have my suspicion confirmed. There he was, all the way back where I’d left him, watching me.
And then that goofy smile formed on his lips and contagiously found its way to mine, and there I stood, smiling like an idiot. My shoulders slumped as I watched him, my bag falling down my arm and landing at my feet. I swallowed a sigh as I watched him stand there, not wanting me to leave any more than I wanted to leave. But I had to go. The project wasn’t mine to worry about anymore, and I’d already done my part for the paper. Gabe should’ve been inside helping the team, not out there watching me leave. But neither of us seemed to care; I know I didn’t.
I left my bag on the ground, where it had fallen, and jogged around the car, all the way up the parking lot, and back to the front of the church, where he stood.
“Forget something?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded as I stopped short in front of him, wrapping my arms around him in a rib-crushing hug, squeezing him as tightly as little Amanda had held him earlier. I buried my face in his shoulder, smiling as I felt his head fall forward and rest on mine. He pressed a warm kiss to my hair, and then his hold loosened, and I mustered just enough willpower to pull myself back.
“I’ll see you Saturday, Gabe,” I whispered, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. And then it drifted lower, and I traced his lips with my eyes, watching the way they twisted into a beautiful curve. I perched myself on my toes, stretching up as tall as I could, to press a small kiss at the corner of that perfect smile, barely brushing his lips.
I didn’t wait for a reaction; I backed away, finally pulling us apart. I started back to the car, moving a lot faster than I’d moved the first time I headed that way. I reached the car again, swept my bag off the ground, and looked to see him one last time before I left. He stood there, firmly in place, touching the tiny place on his lip where I’d kissed him.
I abandoned my impulse to run back to him again, to fall into his arms, and let him kiss me—really kiss me—because that tiny peck wasn’t nearly enough. But I knew that the right time would come. Saturday. I was confident of that much. And the moment would be perfect, because there was no doubt in my mind that Gabe wanted it as badly as I did.
So I summoned every last ounce of strength I had to open that car door, slide inside, and drive away from Gabriel Raddick.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
Chapter Four
“Well?”
“It looks good,” Georgia said, reading over my shoulder. I sat typing on the single computer in the newsroom, taking up the spot at her desk where she normally sat. Getting the articles out on RI were top priority as we entered the final week of the program, so Georgia let me take over the newsroom in any way that I needed to. “This is a wonderful interview you got with Haley Goodwin. Great human interest.”
“Isn’t it?” I agreed, but my fingers never left the keyboard. I kept focusing on the story.
I could feel Georgia’s stare tickling the back of my neck, and even though I sensed that it was supposed to be a hint that she wanted something, I didn’t give her the attention she demanded.
“Okay, you know you’re going to have to spill the beans sooner or later, don’t you?” she asked.
“Spill the beans about what?” I kept typing. I was certain she’d probably heard about (or witnessed firsthand) my sister’s terrible attitude, and as much as everyone was eager to figure out what was going on with Bailey, I did not want to go there. There were more important things to focus on.
“Gabe,” she prompted. “What happened when you guys left here on Wednesday? I expected a phone call, a text, or something, but I never heard from you. What happened?”
Oh. Right.
I should’ve called her, especially since she was the one who’d practically forced us to leave the school together. She’d run into Gabe in the hallway, asked him to swing by the newsroom for a quick interview, and then I turned the corner to find him sitting across from her at the desk. Georgia conveniently tied up her interview at that moment, leaving me alone with Gabe as we exited the school.
I worked all of Wednesday evening, and by the time I got to school yesterday, I was too frustrated by Bailey’s moodiness to talk or share much with my friends. Georgia picked up on the subtle hints and didn’t press the issue, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she started prodding for details.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I asked.
“What happened? Did he say anything? Did you say anything?”
“Oh, he said some things,” I said, pulling my fingers away from the keyboard. I swiveled around to meet her stare. “You want to tell me why you gave him that article I wrote at the start of the program?”
“Because he wanted to read it.”
“He wouldn’t have even known about it if you hadn’t told him.”
“Oh, come on, Mandy. It was cute.”
“You’re not even going to deny it, are you?” I asked, cracking a smile. “Georgia St. James, I should hate you for humiliating me like that. He laughed at me.”
“He laughed with you.”
“But we both know that you love me too much to hate me,” she said, ruffling my hair. “So ultimately there’s nothing you’re going to do about it.”
“And now I hate you for knowing that’s true.” I rolled my eyes as I turned back to the computer and started typing again.
“So that’s all I’m going to get?” she asked. “He told you about the article I gave him?”
“Yup.”
“And?”
“And he gave me a ride to work,” I said, hoping to gloss over the intimate details of everything that happened between leaving the newsroom and reaching the bakery. What happened out there belonged to us—to me and Gabe—and no one else.
“You’ve gotta give me something here,” Georgia said. “Anything.”
He was hurt. Physically, Gabe wasn’t at his best when we walked out of the school on Wednesday, and it broke my heart to watch him as he dragged his leg behind him. He winced in pain with each step he took to the parking lot.
It was an unpleasant few months.
That’s how he so nonchalantly described the trauma he suffered at war. It was an unpleasant few months. When an IED blast nearly cost him the ability to walk, Gabe sat there, focusing only on the facts as he saw them: a slight limp or a twinge of pain wouldn’t skew his perspective. At least I’m alive.
It was a moment for us, right then and there on the hood of his car. He shared something personal and defining, and opening up wasn’t something that Gabe took lightly. He trusted me with a piece of his past, a piece of himself, and I trusted that it meant we were finally moving in the right direction.
“He fixed my digital recorder,” I said, giving her that little bit of something that she asked for, and that much was true. He’d given it back to me on the ride into Sugar Creek, along with a note that he’d received from little Amanda Goodwin. The note was another special moment for us, something that would inevitably bring us closer together. We shared something there, a common bond with a little girl, whose life had changed because of the things we were doing to strengthen our community. It was an extraordinary feeling knowing that, at the end of the day, even the little things we’d accomplished had meant so much.