When silence meets me, I know I said the wrong thing.
“Um…” she says finally after what seems like a lifetime of silence. “Let’s just think about this and maybe I’ll find something in time.” It’s a very nice way of telling me no. “Listen… I uh… I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow okay?”
“Sure, yeah. Can you come over after I get off work tomorrow? I’ll make dinner.”
“Yeah… Yeah. I’ll be there. I have to go. Bye.” She hangs up quickly, and I’m left standing in my bedroom staring at my phone shaking my head.
Damnit.
I should’ve known not to push her that fast, especially after her just admitting her real feelings to me last night. I should’ve known she’d be skittish about relationship things. She was raw last night; open. She didn’t hold anything back.
Except for the fact about her blacking out.
Shit! I meant to ask her about that. Should I confront her about it, or should I just leave it be and make sure there’s not a chance it can happen again? I’m not sure about how her day went the rest of the day today, but even last night while telling me everything about what happened with her son and her boyfriend she didn’t have a panic attack so that means she’s probably getting over it, right?
Either way, I know for a fact that she can’t be with Hannah alone anymore. Not for a while, at least.
The rest of the week goes by without incident. If Gabby has any panic attacks, it’s not when she’s with me. She seems stable mentally, but she still hasn’t found a job. I worry about her going back with her family. Her mom, from the sounds of it, was terrible to her. She can’t live in that again. Even as an adult, I know that people just don’t get over their abusive nature. I won’t let her go back there.
“Hey, you ready?” she asks, popping her head in Hannah’s room. We’re heading out to see my dad this afternoon. A much needed day out of the city.
“Just about. Her stupid dress… button… thing…” I mumble, trying to figure out the snaps on this horrible concoction. Why are little girls so hard to dress?
Gabby laughs and walks over to where I’m kneeling on the floor. Stooping down, she picks up Hannah and laughs at me while walking to her closet. She acts so natural with her, and I now know why. She did this before. She raised a baby… for… uh…
“How old was he?” I blurt.
“Hmm?” She turns and looks at me curiously. I probably shouldn’t have chosen this time to talk about it, but I’m curious and I need to know.
“How old was you son?”
Her eyebrows pull together, and she cocks her head at me, glancing at Hannah and taking a long breath.
“He was just a couple months old,” she whispers, tucking Hannah’s hair behind her ear. “Noah.” She looks up at me. “Noah was his name.”
Now I understand a little more why Gabby’s been having a hard time with this. She never got to see her own son at the age that Hannah is at now. She never got to experience these moments with him.
“You sure you’re okay with… well, with all of this?” I whisper, walking over to her. I place my hands on her hips, ducking my head to make her look at me and, when she does, I see the tears forming in her light brown eyes. “Baby,” I whisper, leaning in and kissing her forehead.
“I just want to make you guys happy… and I don’t want to hurt you… and when we’re here, in this apartment, I know we’re safe and can’t get hurt. Out there, though… there’s crazies, and tractors, and killers, and the big mean world and I can’t…” She’s crying harder now, but, when I go to take Hannah from her arms, she resists. “No. No I need to hold her. I need her.” Her pained whisper makes my heart break for everything she lost. For everything she is still going through.
When she pulls Hannah into an embrace, and kisses the top of her head, my love for her swells to levels I didn’t know existed. She loves this little girl… my little girl. She loves her, and wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her.
“I’m going to pack the car,” I whisper, gently kissing Gabby on the forehead, then doing the same to Hannah.
My two girls.
“You do that.” She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. “I’m going to get this little one the best outfit ever.”
I don’t bring it up because she’s already upset, but I’ve been struggling lately making Hannah look ‘girly cute’ like she used to. My mom used to love helping out with her outfits, but, ever since she passed, I haven’t been able to make things match up right. Too many frills, and different shades of pink, and buttons and bows…. It’s all just a huge mess. Time with Gabby will be good for Hannah.
By the time we’re packed and ready to go, it’s Hannah’s morning naptime, so the drive to my dad’s is pretty quiet. Gabby’s hand stays tucked inside mine the whole drive, and I can tell she’s fighting demons, but I don’t bring it up. She’s smiling, but she’s distant.
Pulling into my dad’s house, it’s like Hannah knows the crunch of their gravel under my tires because she’s wide awake the second the rubber hits the rocks.
“Hey, guys!” my dad calls from the porch. He’s looking better and better each time I see him. For a while there, it was touch and go, but he seems to be accepting the changes taking place. Someone must be keeping up with the gardening my mom used to do, because the flowers and garden looks damn near pristine. Walking in the house, everything in here seems almost perfect, too, like no one’s even been living here!
“Dad, this place looks great,” I say, wandering in to the cleanest kitchen I’ve ever seen. “You doin’ okay?”
“Things are going real good, son. I’ve learned I have to live my life still… so I am.” He shrugs and takes Hannah out of my arms. “Hello, my sweet cakes. Papa missed you,” he says, walking into the living room.
“This is so bizarre. My dad never did this stuff when I was growing up,” I say, shaking my head at the clean countertops.
“Death changes people,” Gabby whispers from the doorway she’s leaning on.
I nod contemplatively.
“It sure does.”
Gabby
Just Go For It
“I’m sorry ma’am. We’re just not looking for any help right now,” the woman on the phone says sympathetically. I sigh and thank her, hanging up and throwing myself back on my bed.
Two weeks without a job has made my panic start to swell. I’m not going to be able to pay rent. I can make part of it, and maybe stay a few more weeks, but that’s it. Unless I find a job today, I’m out of here. This place was my first place I got on my own without the help of anyone. Sure, I haven’t lived at home for years, but I’ve always lived with someone. Jordan, a friend, a cousin, Annaliese… I never had a place all to myself, and I’m so proud of this place that it breaks my heart knowing I’ll have to leave it.
Dr. T told me that whenever I start to feel the panic rise I should keep my eyes open, focusing on something, anything, around me that I find to be attractive, and count to ten. It’s supposed to help me think about positive things in the present rather than focusing on the negative from the past. It’s worked about half the time. I blacked out yesterday shortly when doing dishes and cut my finger pretty bad, but that’s been it really. The other episodes were difficult to live through, like when I finally got home from Benton’s the night after I told him about everything… I seriously thought he was never going to speak to me again. I thought I ruined everything. Granted, I had to leave because he was going to work, but my brain told me he was kicking me out. I’ve learned to live with the self-doubt, but I’ve also learned to love him and Hannah in ways I never thought I’d let myself, and it scares the shit out of me.
Benton hasn’t mentioned anything about moving in with him again, but I’m starting to wonder if he really meant it. If I have to leave here, I need to have a place to go. I said I could go to my mom’s, but that was just a kneejerk reaction. I don’t trust that whore. Especially since the last thing she said to me was threatening… I’d be okay if I never saw her again. I don’t want to ask Annaliese because she and Adam are getting married next week, and the last thing they need is to have me move in with them.