by Groves, B.
Gabby was surprised. She’d always thought Jason and Michael had a close father and son relationship.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry—"
Jason turned to Gabby in reassurance. “You’re not prying and don’t apologize. It hasn’t been a good last few years with him. I try to keep up a good relationship, but it doesn’t always work.”
Jason quieted after that sentence, and Gabby decided it wasn’t her business to ask.
“How are your parents? If you don’t mind my asking?”
Gabby had been waiting on the subject to come up. She was prepared. She was always prepared for the usual speeches.
“They are good. Some days are better than others,” she answered. It was an honest answer.
Jason nodded in understanding as they stopped at a red light. He turned to her, and his look seemed sincere, but Gabby never knew from people anymore.
She hated being so cynical when it came to people in general, but over the years it was one way or another. Sometimes compassion, and sometimes hatred. There was no in-between in her world anymore.
“Gabby, I can’t even imagine what life has been like for you and your family. I wish there was something more I could say,” Jason said.
Jason reached over and patted her hand as he drove. He turned and gave her a sympathetic smile.
Gabby was a little uncomfortable with Jason taking on that kind of familiarity already, so she eased her hand out of his grip. She doubted her choice now.
“Especially you,” he said. “Since you had to witness everything.”
Gabby lowered her head. The images flashed before her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to soothe her mind. She always tried preparing herself for these kinds of conversations.
The inner wounds never healed. All Gabby could do was keep placing band-aids over them so she could live a semi-normal life.
“You know I see crazy things as a cop, but you learn to harden your mind,” Jason explained. “But, when you’re a civilian…”
“It’s tough some days,” Gabby said.
Jason looked over at her with a concerned expression.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay. I’m used to it—” Gabby scoffed, thinking of Pam and how she always scolded her for using that line. “I knew you’d bring it up, eventually. You had to.”
Jason and Gabby stopped at another red light. Gabby recognized the part of town they were in. They were close to the beaches from this road.
“My dad says he always felt sorry for your family. He said they hated making the decision not to bring you back to school when we came back to graduate,” Jason commented.
Gabby turned towards Jason. She thought he hated his dad, and wouldn’t bring him up the rest of the night. That was odd.
Traffic was minimal. Not surprising considering this area was a beach resort, and tourists didn’t flock here during the cold weather season.
"It doesn't bother you about the rumors?" Gabby asked. She was baiting him.
“Why would it? The rumors are bullshit,” Jason commented.
Gabby laughed bitterly. “Yes, those will the haunt me the rest of my life, I suppose.”
“I’ve read the report a dozen times. Amber and I weren’t even in school that day. We’d had gone out to lunch. You didn’t run, I know that. My dad said you were brave.”
"What happened with you and Amber?" She asked. "Again, if I'm prying, let me know."
Jason shrugged. "It's fine. My parents never liked her." He turned to Gabby with a smirk. "She got pregnant by some other guy while we were in school. My dad said I was better off."
Gabby side-eyed Jason. He talked about his dad an awful lot.
"I'm glad to hear you're doing well for yourself in spite of that," Gabby said.
“Thanks,” Jason said with a smile. “Let’s make this a good night. I know it must have been hard to come back here. When I saw you sitting with Pam, I thought, the least I could do was give you a warm welcome back.”
Gabby turned towards him and smiled. “You know, I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Jason gave her his winning quarterback smile, and before she realized it, they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.
Gabby was surprised to see the parking lot so full for a chilly, January night, but figured the locals needed a place to go for a good time.
Jason had to drive around twice to find a parking space. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and said, “We’re still early for our reservation.”
“Is this place always like this?”
“On the weekends? Yep. Always.”
Jason came around and opened the car door for Gabby. She was hit with a mixture of cold, damp air, and the smell of food.
The smell made her stomach growl.
“Hungry?” Jason asked with a grin.
Gabby smiled back. “Starving.”
“Are there places like this down in Florida?” Jason asked as they climbed the steps up to a huge porch lit with soft light bulbs.
“Oh yeah, but there’s nothing like Jersey flavors,” Gabby said.
Jason opened the double wooden doors, and a girl running a coatroom to the left inside the entrance greeted the couple.
Jason checked in their coats, and the girl smiled at them telling them to have a wonderful evening with some Italian words mixed in.
Gabby always had social anxiety ever since the shooting, and her first instinct was to put her head down as to not be recognized, but she took a deep inward breath and squared her shoulders. She would hold her head high tonight.
Jason opened the second set of double doors, and Gabby went ahead into the restaurant. She had to take a few more deep calming breaths to calm her anxiety.
No one turned towards her. Only one other couple was waiting on the mahogany benches inside the restaurant.
There was a podium, but the hostess wasn’t there at the moment.
Gabby allowed herself to take in the atmosphere. She spotted a sign on the podium saying a jazz band was playing tonight at 9pm.
Right now, there was some soft Italian music playing over the speakers.
Gabby gazed over the crowd. Tables were round and rectangle shaped scattered around the restaurant. Waiters and waitresses in black tuxedos were running around taking orders, serving food or pouring more wine. Off to the far left was the bar where the bartender was pouring drinks for customers and the waiters and waitresses.
The walls were decorated with a warm cream color, and Gabby had to smile at the pencil drawings of Venice decorating the walls. The tables were decorated with deep maroon tablecloths and vases with white roses sitting in the middle for decoration.
Glasses clinked, forks and knives scraped plates, and the sound of low laughter resonated throughout the place.
“Cool place?”
“Very nice. Why didn’t we have this stuff when I lived here?”
Jason laughed. “Well, you’re back and you can enjoy it now.”
Gabby nodded. “Very true.”
The hostess came back to the podium, and Gabby noticed she was a woman in her late forties. Her graying blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her tuxedo uniform was more formal than what the wait staff was wearing.
She smiled at the couple and welcomed them to the restaurant.
“Reservations for McConnell,” Jason said.
The woman looked down her list, and said, “Of course, Sergeant McConnell. Your table will be ready in about ten minutes. Can I escort you to the bar while you wait?”
“Would you like a drink?” Jason asked, turning to Gabby.
“Sure,” Gabby answered.
They were escorted over to the bar, and Jason pulled out a barstool for her, and then sat down beside her while they waited for their table.
Jason ordered a beer, and Gabby ordered some wine.
“Are you feeling okay with this?” Jason asked. “You looked a little nervous when we came through the d
oor.”
Gabby shrugged. “I’m fine.” She took a small sip of her wine enjoying the fragrance, and the slight sweetness. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“I’m a cop. I noticed those human ticks,” Jason said.
Gabby chuckled and took another sip of her wine.
“We’re here to have a good time—”
Gabby never heard the rest of Jason’s sentence. She followed the gaze of the bartender as he spoke to another patron. They were both talking about the story on the TV above the bar.
Gabby followed their gaze. The next picture shown on the television hit her like a slap in the face.
Margo’s last school picture came into focus on the screen. The words below blurred since Gabby could only focus on her sister’s face.
Her heart dropped into her stomach. She was now pictured on the screen getting into her car from the grocery store.
Gabby had to fight the urge to vomit as her stomach lurched. Again, Margo’s face was plastered on the screen.
She then turned her head towards the bartender. He turned to gape at her with wide eyes.
Jason said something else to her. She turned to look at him. His face was blurred, but his look of concern was clear on his features.
She could hear the whispers next to them. She tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
She thought she was hyperventilating, but she wasn’t sure. The glass in her hand had been forgotten. She didn’t know what happened to the wine, nor did she care.
She turned around in the barstool. Were people staring at her? The restaurant seemed so quiet now.
All eyes were focused on her. She could feel it. She could feel the stares as they bore down on her. The conversations lowered. She knew what they were saying.
Gabby had to get out of there. She thought she was being strangled.
She moved her body. She heard the gasps through the crowd. She ran. She had to reach the doors. She didn’t care where she went. She just needed to reach the doors.
The gunshots echoed through her head.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
A scream came from her throat. Was the red from the blood or from the tablecloths in the restaurant? She couldn’t be sure. All she knew was she had to run.
Gabby pushed through the doors, and then again, not caring she didn’t have her jacket.
She ran into the night air and onto the street until a strong hand stopped her by grabbing her arm.
Chapter 10
Gabby sat in Jason’s car in front of her house. She gazed out the passenger side window, thinking about what she saw on the television. She’d always been able to spot photographers, but she could only guess that she’d been so busy with her move that this time she missed him.
“Jason. I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay, Gabby.” He took a deep breath and said, “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for you to move back here.”
Gabby sighed. She could tell Jason was upset. She couldn’t be angry with him about his reaction. He didn’t understand. Not one bit.
They’d been quiet the whole way home, after Jason went back into the restaurant and paid for the drinks, and retrieved their jackets.
“It’s not just here,” Gabby muttered.
“Gabby?”
“What?”
“Why did you come back here?”
Gabby sighed. “I have my reasons.”
Jason was a cop, and Gabby knew that kind of sentence had to put his intuition on high alert.
“What do you mean by reasons? I’ve read the report several times. Everything was thoroughly investigated. What are you looking for?”
Gabby turned to Jason defiantly. “Really? Then why did your department never investigate more into Margo’s diary? I have it, and she talked about someone…”
“So? If some random guy made her snap, then she had mental issues.”
“So? What do you mean by that? It was more than breaking up with her.”
“Don’t you know any of this? She was your sister, right? I thought you two were tight?”
“Not in the last year we weren’t,” Gabby answered truthfully, and felt the familiar twinge of guilt course through her veins. If only…
“I don’t see what you could find out now,” Jason said. “Whoever that person was is probably long gone. I’m sure the detectives and the feds didn’t think he was important enough to investigate.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding me. I don’t excuse what Margo did. I never have, but I want to know what she was talking about in her diary, and why this person never came forward.”
Gabby expected these kinds of reactions from people. She barely knew Jason and since he was a cop, she should have known he wouldn’t be open to what she had to say.
“I mean, Margo was in a lot of trouble before the shooting,” Jason added. “My dad said she was a nightmare to deal with.”
Gabby was astonished to hear Jason mention his dad. Again! It made her feel weirded out about how much he hated his dad, but constantly brought him up.
“I know.” Gabby wanted the conversation to end. She gathered her handbag and put her hand on the door handle. “Anyway, thank you for the invite tonight. I’m sorry I ruined it.”
Jason shook his head. He smiled at her, but she could tell he was irritated she ran out of the restaurant the way she did.
“Of course. Maybe when you’re ready, we can try again,” Jason suggested.
“Maybe.”
She went to pull the door handle when Jason reached out to grab her arm. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her, but enough to surprise her.
She spun around and noticed his facial expressions changed. She couldn’t quite read what he was thinking, but it wasn’t good.
“Gabby, just let sleeping dogs lie. The memorial is coming up. People are already on edge. Try not to dig up old graves. You’ll piss them off even more.”
Gabby was flabbergasted by Jason’s words, but before she could retort she pushed out of the car, and into the cold air.
The car started and Jason drove off with Gabby standing there with her mouth gaping open.
His words kept playing over in her head. She wondered what he meant, and why he would say something like that.
Gabby turned her gaze down the street. She could see Dean’s car sitting in the driveway. He’d been in the back of her mind the whole night before her breakdown in the restaurant.
The timing of his wanting to talk to her couldn’t have been worse. She’d wanted so badly to drop her night with Jason and talk with Dean.
Gabby contemplated walking down to his house and knocking on his door.
Gabby checked the time on her phone. It was 8:30pm. She thought more about walking down to his house.
She let out a breath and felt so foolish for standing in the middle of the street at night with no one around.
She could hear the occasional car in the distance. Another one of her neighbors came out of their home, their distance voices laughing. They got into their car and pulled out leaving Gabby alone again in the darkness. They hadn’t even noticed her standing there.
Gabby shook her head and decided against talking with Dean right then.
Again, they were back to square one.
She needed her art right now. She needed to put the brush in her hand and create her painting to take her mind off the night’s events. She knew Pam would call in the morning wanting details.
What could she say? She had a panic attack in the middle of the restaurant when Margo’s picture came up on the TV screen, and then her own picture from some local tabloid photographer.
She ran out of the restaurant making a complete fool out of herself just because the bartender recognized her. She knew how she should have reacted, but instead the fear of judgment hit her once more.
She turned and gazed at Dean’s house longingly. She was still torn about going to knock on his door or losing herself in her brush
strokes.
Deciding an emotional confrontation was not in her best interest Gabby turned and walked down her sidewalk and into her house.
She shrugged out of her jacket and realized her stomach was growling.
She wasn't going to cook a heavy dinner, so a bowl of cereal would have to do.
Changing out of her dress clothes and into her sweats and a tank top she sat in front of her laptop checking her work emails while she ate cereal.
She thought about sending Pam a text but thought it could wait till morning.
She then pulled her hair back and walked over to her latest creation with a smile.
Most of her work was natural landscapes. Since she lived in Florida for years most of her inspiration came from the glorious beaches and sunsets Florida offered.
This latest was the back of a woman with beautiful raven hair flowing in the wind. Her dress was a deep forest green color that contrasted the pastel beach colors.
This work was acrylic she mixed with glazes to make the woman’s hair stand out. She hadn’t thought of a name for this one yet, but it would come to her soon enough.
Stripping her worries of the night, Gabby finished getting her supplies ready and worked on the woman’s dress.
Slow and steady her problems and suspicions faded into the blissful background of her mind. Though she admitted it was still bothering her about Dean and thought perhaps she should have knocked on his door.
Soon, the rest of the world faded and Gabby lost herself within her art.
That was one thing in her life she could always control.
“Gabby?” A whisper came out of the darkness.
Sixteen-year-old Gabrielle Ryan startled awake and then groaned when she realized her sister was sitting on her bed.
Gabby glanced over at her clock. It was the middle of the night.
“What? We have school tomorrow.”
Margo climbed further into the bed and plopped down beside her sister.
“I know, but I have to tell you something,” Margo said.
Gabby went to turn on her bedside lamp when a hand stopped her.
“No! I don’t want to wake up Mom and Dad,” Margo said.
Gabby took a sniff in the air. The fourteen year old's voice came out kind of slurred. That made Gabby sit up in the bed.
