Second Chances

by Nicole Andrews Moore

  Since the bathroom exited into the foyer, Isabella met their guest first. Mr. Charmant wore a scowl on his face that wasn’t softening in response to Isabella’s warm greeting, and carried a copy of Architectural Digest in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other. She wore a puzzled look as she turned to Gabriel, who had just entered the foyer.

  Gabriel didn’t even have time for shock. He didn’t have time to prepare. It was readily apparent that his entire world was about to come crashing down, and his mind raced as he attempted valiantly to salvage any small part of it.

  “This woman claims to be your nanny,” Mr. Charmant growled. “Explain.”

  Gabriel seemed to be stumbling over the words he required. His mouth opened, but no sound was emitted from it. Isabella, sensing his helplessness, but not understanding it jumped to his aid. “Maggie, can you finish up in the bathroom for me?” She asked in order to clear the foyer.

  “With pleasure, ma’am,” Maggie said curtly.

  “Let’s go to the living room,” Isabella offered, gesturing the way. She wanted desperately to fix whatever had happened, but felt powerless despite her determination.

  They took seats on the couches. Isabella and Gabriel on one, not so much holding hands as clinging to each other. Mr. Charmant sat across from them, not so much sitting as threatening to erupt at any given moment.

  “So, Mr. Charmant, what brings you here tonight?” She asked as brightly as possible.

  He glowered at Isabella and his son. “For three months, I have been asking to see my son’s apartment. He has told me repeatedly that it wasn’t ready for my visit. And then today, I open a magazine, and see photos attributed to you, Isabella, photos of a stunning apartment. And I was even more stunned when I saw this.” He opened the magazine to the photo of the kids’ room. “I had hoped this was a mistake.”

  Just then, Maggie walked into the living room with the kids bouncing behind her.

  “Kisses,” Rebecca squealed, jumping into their arms and failing to notice the feeble, stiff kisses she received. She turned to their guest, then back to Gabriel. “Who’s he?” She whispered.

  “My father,” Gabriel croaked. “Now go to bed.”

  Isabella became rigid. She had never heard Gabriel talk to the children that way before. She made a mental note to address that after his father departed.

  Kyle took his turn, becoming slightly hurt by the terse manner in which he was received. Maggie rushed in and spirited them off to bed. She wore an anxious look on her face. “I’ll stay with them,” she said quietly. Isabella understood what she meant. She would stay with them so that they wouldn’t come out and interrupt. She would keep them occupied. Isabella gave a grateful nod.

  The attention turned again to Mr. Charmant, who did not seem to be positively affected by the presence of the children. “So, she is the nanny,” he began coldly. “The photos weren’t a mistake. And those...those are your children.” He directed his words to Isabella.

  “Yes, Mr. Charmant,” she began confused. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize them. I know they’ve grown some, but they haven’t changed that much since their Christmas picture.” She babbled uncontrollably, trying to hit on the one phrase, the one word that would alleviate the tension in the room. Gabriel winced at the mention of the photograph. Isabella noticed and looked at Mr. Charmant.

  “You did receive my Christmas card, didn’t you?” Her confusion was apparent, but the true picture suddenly became clear to her.

  “I received a card, yes, but no photo.” He waited to let his words sink in.

  They both turned on Gabriel at the same time. “How could you?” They demanded in chorus

  .

  “Let me explain,” he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes darting back and forth between the two people he deceived.

  Isabella jumped in first. “What is there to explain? You never told your father I had children? Do your friends know?” She watched his face as she asked question after question, responding to his reaction. “They don’t do they?” Gabriel shook his head. “What? I’m not good enough as I am. You are ashamed of me, of my children?”

  Gabriel began to open his mouth, attempted to respond, but her eyes flashed with a combination of hurt, anger, and fear. He clamped his mouth shut. Isabella knew he thought that if he just waited long enough her anger would have run its course and he would be free to speak his mind, finally able to defend his actions. She wouldn’t give him that chance. Not now.

  She turned to face Mr. Charmant. “I never meant to lie to you, sir. I thought Gabriel had told you. I sent a picture at Christmas. I haven’t been hiding them. I love them. I am proud of them. They are my first priority.” She shot a look at Gabriel, then stood. “There seems to have been some misunderstanding.” She took a deep breath. She struggled to control her emotions. She was lost, didn’t know what to do. One thought stood out in her mind. “I have to go home now,” she said quietly, as she walked deliberately from the room.

  Gabriel’s head shot up in surprise. He tried to stop her as she headed for the bedroom. “Where are you going? This is your home.” He stood ready to run after her.

  Isabella stopped in her tracks, stiffened, and turned on him in response to his last remark. “This is not my home, Gabriel. This is your home. And we are just your pretend family. If you can’t be honest about us, then none of this is real.” She walked into the bedroom and looked around. She grabbed her bag and threw a few clothes into it. There were drawers full of lingerie and pajamas, a chest full of jewelry, a bathroom full of toiletries. And she hadn’t bought any of them. She could feel her face burn as tears filled her eyes, then she dropped the half-packed bag and walked from the room.

  Isabella marched directly into the kids’ room, not even pausing to make eye contact with the pairs of eyes she knew must be on her. Gabriel and Mr. Charmant had been sitting silently in the living room ever since she made her exit. Throwing the door open, she said as strongly as she could muster, “Maggie, please buckle my children into the car.” The woman looked up quietly, saw Isabella’s shaking form, and prepared the kids for the outdoors.

  Unaware of what was going on, but just expecting another adventure, Kyle asked, “Is Gabiyell coming with us?” Isabella shook her head, trying to hold back tears. “Oh,” he said with obvious disappointment. Then both kids walked over to him and gave him hugs and kisses while Isabella remained in the doorway.

  “Goodbye,” Rebecca called softly on her way out of the door.

  Gabriel, looking like a deer in headlights, couldn’t even respond. He simply dropped his head in his hands as the children walked out of the door, and out of his life. Isabella turned to put her shoes and coat on.

  “Won’t you stay? Please? Won’t you give me a chance to explain? Please don’t leave me, Bella.” He begged walking over to her. He no longer cared that his father was in the room. He no longer cared what his father thought. And with that newfound knowledge, his heart ached even more, realizing that he should have just been forthright from the beginning. Now it was too late.

  He longed to reach out to her, but understood that he must give her space right now. She hadn’t said anything. He raised his arms in a motion that would normally encircle her, hug her to him, but tonight these muscular arms hung limply mid-air, waiting. All she had to do was give him some sign; some hint that she would still welcome his touch. Instead, she shook her head, still unable to speak and began to walk to the door.

  “You aren’t taking anything,” he noted quietly, as he trailed behind her.

  Isabella whirled to face him. “None of it is mine.” She looked around this apartment, his apartment that she had so lovingly decorated. Every aspect of it, every detail had been the labor of their combined tastes. She remembered the hours they spent selecting just the right furniture, fixtures, flatware, and the like. Again she murmured, barely audibly, “None of it’s mine.” Then she stormed from the apartment filled with a white-hot anger and something else, a huge aching pain
in her chest. She didn’t recognize it at first, since she had gone so long without sorrow. Then it came to her. Ahh, that’s right, she thought to herself. This is what it feels like when your heart breaks.

  “I need to go after her,” Gabriel said to his father.

  “No, let her go. She was no good for you. She would only hold you down with her fatherless children.”

  Gabriel felt his face grow hot with anger. “How can you say that? All she has ever done is bring me happiness and make me a better man. When have you seen me more focused, more devoted to the business?”

  “Well, you would have to be to support all those extra mouths,” Mr. Charmant returned coldly. “How long did she wait to tell you about them? Did she wait until she had lured you into bed, until she had gotten you whipped? Eh?”

  Gabriel’s fist formed uncontrollably as the urge to strike out at his father welled within him. “Our first real date,” he said severely. “She told me about her children on our first date.” He collapsed on the couch remembering it. “She told me they come first. She told me that she would never love a man over them.” He held his head in his hands now. “And father,” he looked up at the man he now loathed. “We never made love.”

  “Oh that’s worse. She held that over your head to convince you to marry her! Oh, it is all clear now. She is just another gold digger. She just needs you for money.”

  “No!” Gabriel shouted enraged. Then weakly, he continued, “No. She doesn’t need me, not financially. She doesn’t care about these material things. You saw her. She wouldn’t take anything, not one of the many things I’ve bought her. She said they weren’t hers because she hadn’t paid for them.” He stopped, covered his eyes for a moment and then glanced at his father with glistening eyes. “It is me she loves, or,” he choked on the words, “loved. You have it all wrong. She doesn’t need me.” He paused and sighed. “It is I who need her.”

  “No you don’t,” Mr. Charmant snapped, alarmed at his son’s behavior. “You’re better off without her. Here,” he said gruffly, standing and passing his son the bottle of wine he had intended as a celebration of the magazine spread. “I guess you are really going to need this now.” He dropped the magazine on the coffee table and with that, left the apartment.

  Gabriel took a moment to compose himself. Then he remembered Maggie. She had quietly crept back into the apartment and had been waiting ever since in her room. She must be anxious for her money. He had written the check yesterday, but never delivered it. He glanced up, preparing to go to her, but instead found her leaning against a column watching him, shaking her head.

  “Oh, Mr. Gabriel,” she moaned, “what have you done? Um um um, what have you done?”

  The kids were asleep by the time Isabella reached her barn. It looked cold and empty, but it might just be because that was how she felt. She carried first one child and then the other up the flight of stairs to their bedrooms. It had been ten months since she had had to do this, and they had grown significantly since then.

  She stood in her living room and looked around helplessly. For the first time in a long time she had no idea what to do with herself, no sense of purpose. She looked on the calendar, hoping to see some sign that she had a life to lead apart from Gabriel’s, but no, the weekends were always his. She glanced at the phone. When they were apart, he called. She toyed with calling Jessie, but couldn’t muster the strength. Again she looked at the date. There was something she should remember about this date.

  April first. Oh no. Why did all the most terrible occurrences in her life seem to happen on this date? One year ago today she found her husband and her sister together and her life was irreversibly changed. She fell apart soon after, fell apart because she feared the emptiness that his leaving meant. And now, by loving Gabriel, she had opened herself to the same pain. Only this pain would be worse since he had never hurt her before, not even a little. This pain would leave an unspeakable emptiness, as she didn’t know how to be without him. Jack had given her years of practice. Resigning herself to a life of solitude, Isabella trudged upstairs and went to bed.

  In Montreal, Gabriel laid awake in bed. He looked at the vacant side of the bed, the side where Isabella should at this very moment be resting her lovely head. He would hold her, stroke her, kiss her and cuddle her. Always he would long for more, long to truly make her his, but would hold back, knowing she would let him know when it was right.

  He rolled over, but that, too, was no good for now he stared at the phone that he should be using to call Isabella and tuck her in long distance. They had been doing that for...ten months. Was it only ten months? He tried, but couldn’t remember his life without her. He tried to picture his future, but there was no future imaginable without Isabella in it.

  Laughing, he thought, you fool. How could you allow yourself to love a woman that much? But this was Bella he was talking about. How could he not love her?

  The weeks passed, slowly, painfully. At first Isabella feared the phone ringing. Still hurt and angry, she didn’t know how she would react if she heard from him. Then a new nagging fear entered her mind, the fear of Gabriel never calling again.

  Rebecca and Kyle were also feeling the loss. The first Friday, Rebecca carried down a bag overflowing with toys and games. “I want to bring this with us,” she announced.

  Isabella had been frozen in her spot. “We’re not going,” she managed.

  “Oh,” Rebecca said excitedly. “So Gabriel is coming here?”

  “Not this weekend,” Isabella answered quietly.

  And Rebecca, sensing that the subject made her mother sad, stopped asking questions that might add to her mother’s pain.

  Isabella had no idea how to fill all of the quiet time she now had. She could only take so many photographs, develop so many negatives, and work on her gallery show for so long. The show seemed hollow now without Gabriel to share it with. At some point she must venture forth into the world. She had shut herself off at first, unable to face people who had once seen her so happy, so completely over Jack. The struggle to get over Gabriel wouldn’t be nearly so simple. Every day she faced indescribable loneliness and an aching awareness of the void in her chest that once contained her heart. So now, three weeks later, Isabella still labored to fill her weekends with activity. As long as she kept busy, she didn’t have to think. On Thursday she and Jessie had made plans for the day Saturday.

  “Let’s go to the spa,” Isabella announced.

  “The spa?” Jessie asked incredulously. They hadn’t been to the spa together in quite some time. Gabriel had been taking care of all of Isabella’s beauty needs.

  “Yup,” Isabella responded, trying to act happy. “You know, now that I’m on the market again I need to look my best.” She tried to make a joke of it, but Jessie saw through the laughter to the deep pain within.

  “Why don’t you call him?” She asked quietly almost afraid to broach the subject.

  Isabella looked down. “Because he should call me. I left. It’s his duty to call.” She whirled around on The Turtle’s bar stool. “Only now,” she mumbled, “it’s too late to call.” She tried to brighten again. “So, how about it? Spa Saturdays again?”

  While Isabella de-stressed at the spa, Gabriel received a visit from his friends. “Gabe,” Matty said with concern, “we’re worried about you. What’s going on? No one has heard from you or seen you in weeks. Where’s Isabella?”

  The group marched into the living room. The place was immaculate, barely looking lived in. And somehow, even though it looked as it always had, the apartment lacked the warmth it had when Isabella inhabited it.

  Sebastian walked over to the door he believed to belong to the storage area. With nothing left to hide, the door now remained open. Gabriel didn’t move, but sat there patiently while Sebastian studied the contents and emitted a low whistle. “Oh my God,” he said with obvious wicked delight. “Come here,” he called to his friends. “You have got to see this.”

  One by one the guys
filed off the couches to visit the mysterious room. All of them began murmuring low ‘whoas.’ Ben lingered, the last to move. He studied Gabriel and mouthed ‘kids’ room.’ Gabriel nodded.

  “Whose room is that?” Sebastian asked.

  Wordlessly, Gabriel took out his wallet and passed around a worn picture of Rebecca and Kyle. They all admired the kids, Ben studying them most of all. “The little girl looks so much like Isabella,” he said finally.

  Gabriel nodded and sniffled. “Rebecca. I know. She is so much like her mother. You wouldn’t believe how smart she is, but then she speaks and well...” He paused realizing he was not only babbling, but giving himself away.

  “Don’t tell me you like them?” Sebastian asked incredulously.

  “No,” Gabriel said shaking his head. “Nope. I don’t like them.” He gulped. “I love them.” The last phrase came out a whisper.