too.”
“Gabriel?”
“Yeah, you know. Your son?”
The boy muttered darkly, the words too soft for him to make out, but things were blowing up all over the computer screen.
Diana didn’t have a sense of humor at the best of times, and right now he could hear her cursing the slow moving drivers around her. “I know who he is. What about him?”
“He’s here at my place.” The silence that followed told him that Di hadn’t even realized Gabe was missing. “I’m calling because I figured you’d be worried.”
“Thanks, Chris. Damn it, watch the road! Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to come across the bridge to get him. Can you call Michael? I’ve got to go.”
Gabriel avoided his eye as Chris set the phone down but the tension emanating from him was palpable. Suppressing a sigh and a whole lot of things he’d like to say about his sister, Chris dialed Mike’s number. He got a similar “I’ve got other things to do” attitude from his brother-in-law, who was still at the office, and so offered to drive Gabe home himself.
Chris laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder, feeling the tight muscles beneath the Bay Academy school T-shirt and hurting for him without knowing how to make it better. “Why don’t you shut down the game and we’ll go eat.”
He led Gabe back to the kitchen, a large open space that resembled a particular Italian chain restaurant. It had a brick oven he’d never used, a forty-eight-inch programmable six-burner gas stove he didn’t know how to use and an empty deep freezer that he only used for bags of ice when he threw a party.
Chris grabbed a couple beers from the French door refrigerator—root beer for Gabe and a real one for himself—then joined his nephew at the breakfast bar. Forgoing plates, they ate the pizzastraight out of the box. He killed time on idle small talk about work and classes, waiting until they were on their third slices before asking about the unexpected visit.
“So, G-man, what’s going on?” The answer he got was a shrug. “Something must have prompted you to spend ninety minutes on public transportation to get over here.”
Gabe seemed fascinated by the strips of bacon on his pizza. “I called Nana, but she said she was going out.”
Chris grimaced. “Yeah, she’s got a date.”
“Get out! Who’s the dude?” His brow wrinkled in disbelief.
Not wanting to admit he didn’t know, Chris turned back to the topic at hand. “Guys aren’t usually big on talking about their feelings, but the rules are different when beer and pizza are involved.”
Gabe dropped his fifth slice back into the box, apparently not hungry anymore. His narrow frame seemed to shrink as he slumped in his chair and fought to control his expression. His voice quavered when he finally spoke.
“Mom and Dad are never home these days. When they are, they’re fighting. About money, their jobs and stuff, about me getting in trouble at school. I’m worried, I mean, I think they’re serious this time. They keep yelling about a divorce.”
Damn. It seemed Michael and Diana had been building towards this for a while. Chris wished hecould say he was surprised, but none of the three London kids had done well in their relationships. Neither his parents nor Gabe’s seemed to realize how deeply their decisions left invisible scars.
He reached over to wrap an arm around Gabe’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t know what to say. But I’ll tell you this much—been there, done that and lived to tell the tale.”
Gabe leaned toward him, accepting the comfort for a brief moment, before shrugging off Chris’s arm and moving away. “Got anything for dessert?”
A half gallon of chocolate almond vanilla ice cream later, Chris sat near Gabe on the couch, not really watching TV so much as just being there. When Mike called to say he was home, Chris drove Gabe back to Richmond in a silence that intensified the closer they got to the house.
“I know you
“Gabriel?”
“Yeah, you know. Your son?”
The boy muttered darkly, the words too soft for him to make out, but things were blowing up all over the computer screen.
Diana didn’t have a sense of humor at the best of times, and right now he could hear her cursing the slow moving drivers around her. “I know who he is. What about him?”
“He’s here at my place.” The silence that followed told him that Di hadn’t even realized Gabe was missing. “I’m calling because I figured you’d be worried.”
“Thanks, Chris. Damn it, watch the road! Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to come across the bridge to get him. Can you call Michael? I’ve got to go.”
Gabriel avoided his eye as Chris set the phone down but the tension emanating from him was palpable. Suppressing a sigh and a whole lot of things he’d like to say about his sister, Chris dialed Mike’s number. He got a similar “I’ve got other things to do” attitude from his brother-in-law, who was still at the office, and so offered to drive Gabe home himself.
Chris laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder, feeling the tight muscles beneath the Bay Academy school T-shirt and hurting for him without knowing how to make it better. “Why don’t you shut down the game and we’ll go eat.”
He led Gabe back to the kitchen, a large open space that resembled a particular Italian chain restaurant. It had a brick oven he’d never used, a forty-eight-inch programmable six-burner gas stove he didn’t know how to use and an empty deep freezer that he only used for bags of ice when he threw a party.
Chris grabbed a couple beers from the French door refrigerator—root beer for Gabe and a real one for himself—then joined his nephew at the breakfast bar. Forgoing plates, they ate the pizzastraight out of the box. He killed time on idle small talk about work and classes, waiting until they were on their third slices before asking about the unexpected visit.
“So, G-man, what’s going on?” The answer he got was a shrug. “Something must have prompted you to spend ninety minutes on public transportation to get over here.”
Gabe seemed fascinated by the strips of bacon on his pizza. “I called Nana, but she said she was going out.”
Chris grimaced. “Yeah, she’s got a date.”
“Get out! Who’s the dude?” His brow wrinkled in disbelief.
Not wanting to admit he didn’t know, Chris turned back to the topic at hand. “Guys aren’t usually big on talking about their feelings, but the rules are different when beer and pizza are involved.”
Gabe dropped his fifth slice back into the box, apparently not hungry anymore. His narrow frame seemed to shrink as he slumped in his chair and fought to control his expression. His voice quavered when he finally spoke.
“Mom and Dad are never home these days. When they are, they’re fighting. About money, their jobs and stuff, about me getting in trouble at school. I’m worried, I mean, I think they’re serious this time. They keep yelling about a divorce.”
Damn. It seemed Michael and Diana had been building towards this for a while. Chris wished hecould say he was surprised, but none of the three London kids had done well in their relationships. Neither his parents nor Gabe’s seemed to realize how deeply their decisions left invisible scars.
He reached over to wrap an arm around Gabe’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t know what to say. But I’ll tell you this much—been there, done that and lived to tell the tale.”
Gabe leaned toward him, accepting the comfort for a brief moment, before shrugging off Chris’s arm and moving away. “Got anything for dessert?”
A half gallon of chocolate almond vanilla ice cream later, Chris sat near Gabe on the couch, not really watching TV so much as just being there. When Mike called to say he was home, Chris drove Gabe back to Richmond in a silence that intensified the closer they got to the house.
“I know you
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