Unveiling The Sky

by Jeannine Allison

Me: you too. I hope you know I’d much rather be there, I already miss you

  I sent that last text four hours ago and had heard nothing back.

  “Hey.” I looked up toward Sam’s soft voice and nodded my head before gazing out at our backyard. My mom’s garden was no longer vibrant and alive like it once was.

  Sam sighed as she leaned on the railing and looked out with me. “You didn’t have to come. I know how you feel about—”

  “Sam, I want to be here for you.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “What?”

  She turned toward me. “Gabe, you’ve been on your phone or out here ever since the party started. And I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but it’s obvious that you don’t want to be here and I’m really okay if you leave.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “No. I promised myself I’d be there for you more when I returned, but then I got caught up with…”

  “Alara,” she said with a smile.

  “Yeah, and she’s important to me.” I turned to face Sam so she knew the importance of my next words. “But so are you, and its time I started showing you that.”

  Sam gave my hand a squeeze. “I already know that. You don’t have to make yourself miserable to prove it.”

  “I’m only miserable because I’m choosing to be. C’mon. Let’s go liven up that party,” I said, offering her my arm. As Sam greedily accepted and a huge smile broke out across her face, I tried to assure myself that I’d made the right choice. But somehow, some part of it still felt wrong.

  …

  Later that evening when Sam was off talking to some of her former friends, Miranda and my father cornered me.

  “Evening, Gabe.” Miranda opened her arms for a hug, which I halfheartedly returned, before she placed a swift kiss on my cheek.

  “Miranda, you look very nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad to see you two are getting along again,” my father interrupted.

  I groaned and scrubbed my hand down my face. “This isn’t going to work. It isn’t going to change anything,” I said, cutting right to the chase.

  Apparently this was fine by my father. “Gabriel, this is all you’ve ever wanted. I don’t want to see you throw everything away over some girl—”

  “What the hell are you talking about? First of all, no, this is not all I’ve ever wanted. Maybe at one point I thought I wanted this, but all I was really doing was settling. It was a default choice.” I paused, grimacing when Miranda flinched, but I had to carry on. “And Alara has nothing to do with any of this. I made this decision before I met her. How do you even know about her?”

  My father gave me a patronizing look before shaking his head. “I don’t think you understand how serious I am about this. So, yes, I’ve looked into the people you’ve been spending time with.”

  “Well, stop it—”

  “How much do you even know about this girl? Do you know she’s on antidepressants? That she—”

  “I love her, Dad. That’s what I know.”

  Miranda looked embarrassed as she cleared her throat before nodding to the exit. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

  “And what about Samantha?” my father asked, barely registering Miranda’s departure.

  “What about her?” I asked slowly.

  “She’s not eighteen until next May, and while she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, I will be gone for the next few months and I could easily justify sending her to live with Wendy for the duration of her senior year.”

  I stared at him as my jaw flexed and my fingers curled into fists causing my nails to cut into my palms. We stayed silent for several moments as I surveyed the man in front of me and tried to see the father I once admired, the husband my mother once loved. But he was no longer there. Despite Sam’s insistence, he was gone. Or maybe he was never really there and it was all an act; either way, it felt like a blow to my stomach to really, truly realize that I didn’t have a father. Because being a parent wasn’t just about giving a child life, it was also about teaching that child how to live.

  “I really don’t understand how you can be this cruel and coldhearted. You know I’ll stay to keep that from happening. But it won’t keep me forever. You’ll never win.”

  “This isn’t about winning. I’m trying to do what’s best for you; you just can’t see it right now. After you spend some time back in your old life, you’ll see it’s where you belong. I don’t want you throwing all this away and waking up one day regretting the choices you made because you were grieving.”

  I clenched my jaw and shook my head because he wasn’t even listening. “That’s not what this is. Yeah, I grieved for a long time. But it made me realize that I want to enjoy every bit of life. I know there’s good and there’s bad and that’s always going to be the case, but I’m going to fit in as much good as I can. I’m not going to settle for a job and muddle my way through it, telling myself I’ll enjoy the weekend when it comes. I want to love every part of my life. The bad should only be things we have no control over, like dying and heartbreak and pain-in-the-ass parents. It shouldn’t be things of our own choosing, like a job or a girlfriend or a lifestyle. I’m sorry you don’t agree. But there is no scenario in which you come out on top here. So I guess you’ll just have to ask yourself whether you’re okay with me hating you or not. I’ve lost one parent, and as much as we disagree, I’d really hate to lose another. But if you force me to make this choice, that’s exactly how this will turn out.”

  I hadn’t seen Gabe since Thanksgiving five days ago, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. We weren’t exactly fighting but we’d only shared a handful of text messages and phone calls in that time frame, and each and every time things felt off. I could tell he was stressing about something but he didn’t seem to want to talk about, which in turn made me not want to talk about… anything.

  Apparently this made me extremely disagreeable, because Naomi spent the last two nights at Caleb’s place. Thankfully Sherry didn’t seem to notice anything, or if she did she blessedly said nothing about it. The two of us were hanging out at a coffee stand near campus; she had just gotten back from her mysterious trip last night and although we never talked about where she went or what she did, I always wanted to make sure she was okay. We had just sat down when—

  “Hey,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned around and saw the last person I wanted to see. “Uh, hi.”

  “It’s Alara, right? You’re friends with Gabe?”

  “Girlfriend,” Sherry interrupted, already on the offensive.

  I saw a brief flicker of pain and longing in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resolve. “I’m Miranda.” She held out her hand to Sherry, which Sherry reluctantly shook.

  “Sherry. So you’re a friend of Gabe’s?” Sherry asked, throwing the word back at her.

  She looked sad as her gaze traveled over to me. “Actually, I’m his fiancée.”

  Fiancée? “What?” I croaked out.

  Miranda held up her left hand, displaying the very unique wedding ring that Gabe’s mother wore in the picture on his desk. My eyes widened and my stomach dropped.

  “I’m sorry to be so tactless about it, but I thought it was time you knew, and I knew he would have trouble doing it himself.” She shrugged like she wasn’t ripping out my heart and stomping on it.

  “Knew what?” Sherry asked, her tone razor sharp.

  “When Gabe left for Europe, we put our relationship on hold. But it was always a temporary separation.” She looked at me with so much pity I wanted to smash something in her face.

  Her words turned over in my head as I tried to process what she was saying. Gabe wouldn’t deceive me. No matter what she was saying, I knew I had to hear his side of things. But how else would she get that ring? I cleared my throat as she stared on, clearly expecting me to say more. “Why only temporary?”

  “Grief does strange
things to people, you know. People are always advised not to make major life changes after a loss, but Gabe… he turned his whole world upside down. I was just waiting for him to come back to himself. To his real life.”

  I was going to be sick. His real life? Why did everyone keep saying it like that? Was I taking advantage of his grief? He was slowly making everything better for me, but was I really making things better for him? Or was I holding him back? I knew one of the things he wanted most was to repair his relationship with Sam, but how could he ever really do that if we were always together?

  And what if he decided he did want to go back? Would he be able to tell me? Or would he feel guilty and worry about my reaction? As if she could read my mind, Miranda said, “He always wanted to take care of everyone and when he couldn’t, he got scared and ran away. His mother was sick and his sister was completely lost, and he could do nothing about it. But eventually he’ll realize that he can’t let that keep him from living his life. I hope you’ll help him see that this is the right thing to do. If you care about him at all—”

  “Leave.” Miranda blinked in surprise at Sherry’s sharp command, and she actually seemed a little scared as she stepped back. With one final look between us, she gave me another pity-filled smile and walked away. And as I sat there, I couldn’t help but feel like part of my heart went with her.

  …

  “You okay?” I shrugged and twisted the coffee sleeve around the cup. “Do you want me to call Naomi?”

  I shook my head. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”

  Sadness consumed Sherry’s face as she nodded. “Okay. You know you can always talk to me, but I have to ask… why not go to Naomi? We both know she’s better at this.”

  “Better is just a perspective. She’ll just give me all the positives and while that’s good… I need a little bit of realism right now too. Which is something you’re better at.” I tried to grin while elbowing her in the boob.

  “Okay, so what’s the question?”

  “Do you ever feel like you can’t tell me things because I’ll react poorly? Like you’re always walking on eggshells, waiting for me to crack?”

  Her mouth screwed up in a frown as she thought about it. “Kind of, but not because I’m waiting for you to crack. I just don’t want to upset you, and not because you’re my friend who has depression, but simply because you’re my friend. Everyone has triggers and I try to be mindful of them. But at the end of the day if I think you need to hear something, even if you won’t like it, I’d tell you, because that’s also part of being a friend. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  She studied me thoughtfully for a moment before commenting. “You can’t keep doing that, you know.”

  I frowned. “Doing what?”

  “You can’t keep separating pieces of yourself—it won’t accomplish anything. There isn’t you and then your depression. They aren’t separate things. They affect each other, and I know you think Gabe can’t possibly love that part of you. But all of it’s you, and if he loves you, he has to love that too because even though it sucks, it has made you who you are.”

  My frown deepened. Just the other day I had said something similar to Gabe. That I was sick of letting my depression define me, and here I had let Miranda do just that. I had let her convince me of something that I had no actual proof for.

  “You’re right.” I nodded my head and gave Sherry a grateful smile. “I know you’re right.”

  “We all have nerves.”

  Yeah, we did, and with this one open and exposed I’d have to be extra careful not to let anything hit it. Not to let anything make it unnecessarily worse.

  …

  I asked Gabe to come over tonight, and even though it made me uncomfortable I described the entire encounter with Miranda to him, the words, the ring, and the feelings (well mostly). He grimaced as I finished and he came to sit next to me. We were in my room; I was on the bed and he had been at my desk. “It’s not what you think,” he said, sounding exhausted.

  My laugh was uncomfortable as I rolled my eyes, trying to look untroubled. “Words every woman wants to hear.” My joke fell flat as my voice quivered, revealing just how scared I actually was.

  He gave me a small smile for my attempt and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, drawing me into his side. “I told you the truth about Miranda and me. We’re over, my dad and her just don’t want to accept it.”

  “What was the deal your dad was talking about?”

  “When I left he told me I had a year before he expected me to come back, marry Miranda and work at his company while finishing my master’s.” He hesitated, shoving his hand in his thick hair before his eyes slowly roamed over my face. “And I accepted it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked quietly as I brushed hair back from his face.

  “It didn’t matter because I wasn’t going to do it. I only agreed to it at the time because I didn’t want to argue with him.” Gabe’s tone was laced with frustration.

  “But now he probably looks at this like I’ve ruined the plan and somehow convinced you to change your entire life.” My voice was coming out harsher than I intended, but this whole conversation was leaving me confused. Why would he choose bartending and me over what his dad could offer and a steady, sane life with Miranda? It really didn’t make any sense. There was that pesky little nerve again.

  “Yeah, I know. I think that’s why he’s been extra forceful with it.”

  “So, what now? He clearly expects you to hold up your end of this, but what can he do? You’re an adult.” When I was met with silence, I twisted in his arms and rested my chin on his chest so I was looking up at him. “Does he have something that could compel you to do this?”

  “He threatened to send Sam to his sister’s place on the East Coast for the rest of the school year. It’s her senior year, the few friends she has left are here and she’s still recovering from losing our mother, and that asshole wants to send her away… because of me.”

  “Oh,” I whispered.

  “Yeah.” He gave me a sad look before turning his attention to the wall across from us. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. I didn’t think he was serious.”

  “We’re gonna be okay, right?” I asked quietly.

  “Of course,” he said automatically, but I could hear the fear and sadness in his voice. He wasn’t sure, and even though I wasn’t a religious person, I would pray. I would pray he wasn’t lying. Because for the first time since we started dating, I was truly worried we weren’t going to be okay.

  Shocked. That was the only word I had for what I was feeling as Gabe’s father stood on the other side of my doorway the Wednesday after Thanksgiving. “Mr. Moynaha,” I said, startled. “Gabe isn’t here. I mean… weren’t the two of you supposed to be meeting at your office?”

  Last night as Gabe was leaving, he told me he was going over to his father’s office today to settle all this for good. And while he seemed relatively optimistic about it, I was still unsure.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Black. Yes, we are meeting at my office in a little bit. I’m actually here to speak to you.”

  “Oh, well, uh, come in.” I fidgeted as he walked in and began appraising our apartment. “Did you want anything to drink?”

  Gabe’s dad turned around and offered me a smile, probably the first genuine one I’d seen come from him. “No, I’m all right, dear. Thank you.” A few tense seconds passed while he looked at the pictures on our wall and I ran my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. With his back still facing me he finally spoke. “I can’t imagine what you must think of me. I know Gabriel’s not my biggest fan right now.”

  “Oh, well…” I trailed off, unsure how to proceed.

  He turned around and offered me a warm smile. “It’s okay, Alara, you don’t have to deny it. I know it’s the truth. I won’t deny I haven’t been the most dutiful father, but my son seems to think I’m out to destr
oy his life. What he doesn’t understand is that I’m doing this for his own good.”

  “And I’m not for his own good?”

  His smile turned sad. “I don’t believe so, no. But that is nothing against you, Ms. Black. My son just needs someone a bit stronger. More put together.”

  My mouth went dry as I processed his words. “Put together?” I squeaked out.

  “Dealing with depression is a serious commitment. Is that something you really want to burden my son with? Surely if you love him, you’d want better for him?”

  The silence that followed had me nervously tapping my fingers against my thigh, and the atmosphere began to feel even more tense. “I don’t think Gabe sees it as a burden,” I said quietly.

  “Of course he doesn’t right now. But tell me, have you had any kind of episode in front of him? Has he truly seen what it would be like to be with someone so broken?” I froze at his words, the only movement being the churning of my stomach and the racing of my mind. But despite feeling like I had been hollowed out, I was also getting a little angry.

  “I’m not broken, sir. Yes, I broke. But I’m putting myself back together, day after day and one piece at a time. I’m doing that.”

  He almost looked impressed, but it quickly disappeared as a pitying expression took its place. “Ms. Black, I’m glad you are doing better, but you cannot guarantee anything—”

  “No one can guarantee anything!” I practically shouted. I lowered my voice before continuing. “I know I can’t guarantee that, in fact I could probably guarantee that something will happen again. But I’ve explained all this to Gabe, and I respect him enough to let it be his choice; maybe you should do the same.”

  He nodded and straightened himself out. “Just think about what I’ve said. It’d be a shame for him to wake up one day hateful and resenting the life he chose.” And the person he chose it with, he silently added. If he had physically hit me it would have hurt less.