Diving In (Open Door Love Story) (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m just going to run upstairs and get my swimming bag while the daily report is printing and then we can head to the pool.”

Gabe nods and backs out of the office so I can get past him. I lean down for a quick kiss, but somehow it turns into a lingering one, complete with his hands on my ass.

It’s been a good week. We’ve spent a lot of time together. Nearly all of our time together, in fact. The only moments I’ve been by myself are when I’m asleep. He can’t get to my place, and his parents are always around at his. Sure, they left us alone for an hour on Thanksgiving, but I have the feeling that was a special holiday treat or something, because Gabe hasn’t invited me back to his place any more than I’ve invited him up to mine.

We kiss and absently fondle in the office and behind the front counter during the day, and let things go a little further in the van at night. And as nice as that is, I can tell we are both wishing to be lying next to each other on a bed like a regular couple. I’ve thought about getting a motel room, but talking about that means talking about having sex and if I’m not ready to go there and if he isn’t mentioning anything … I can wait. I am used to waiting. Or at least not caring about waiting for sex. Of course, I’d never wanted Andy the way I want Gabe. I want all of him, every experience, every and any way I can have him.

Not that I’m going to tell him that either. The guy really does have more confidence than is necessary.

“The seniors are going to think something’s the matter if we’re late to class,” I say, muffled, my mouth still half engaged with his.

“Uh huh. That’s totally what’s got you squirming to get out of here.” Gabe squeezes my ass again. “I think you’re having ideas about climbing onto this chair, straddling me and showing me why you’re really the boss, but it’s scaring you.”

Okay, so maybe I read him wrong.

“Oh, is that what you’d like me to do? Right here to the thrum of the printer spitting out the dailies? Just ride you like a—”

“Brynn. I need to speak with you.”

I stand up so fast I see stars. Gabe’s hands fly off me.

“Hi Mom,” I say, brushing my mussed up hair off of my face. “I didn’t know you were coming in today. The reports are just about done printing.”

Mom looks down at Gabe with a steely stare. “If you don’t mind, I need to speak with my daughter in private. Perhaps you could go tidy up the front. It’s looking subpar.”

Gabe gives me a wide-eyed look and then angles his chair so that he can roll forward through the door. “Excuse me, Mrs. Garrett. I’ll get right on that.”

“The cleaning supplies are under the vanity in the restroom. I’m fairly certain Brynn has not alerted you to this fact.”

“Got it. Thanks, Ma’am.”

I go into the office and take the only chair in the room, leaning back like my mom isn’t intimidating me in the least. I prepare for her to rip me a new one about what a shit hole the store’s turned into since I’ve been managing it all on my own. Which isn’t true. The numbers have been steady. Maybe the front is messier than usual because I haven’t had any downtime in which to clean it, but it’s not the tornado aftermath she’s making it out to be.

Mom sits on the corner of the table I use as a desk and folds her hands in her lap. She stares at me for a moment, gearing up, choosing just the right words to make me feel small, I’m sure.

“I have some bad news,” she says, but doesn’t elaborate. She studies my face. I don’t give her the satisfaction of a worried expression. All I can hope is that Grandpa is fine and alive and that’s all I care about. If something had gone wrong with Liam or Dad, she would’ve called first, I’m sure of it.

“Would you like to know what the bad news is or would you rather be kept in the dark, believing the world is full of puppy dogs and rainbows?”

“The. Suspense. Is. Killing. Me.”

“Clearly. That flippant attitude will serve you well when you’re partners with Dad.”

“You’re selling me your shares? Why?” I can’t imagine why my mother would— “This can’t be because of Gabe? Are you really that … cold? You will quit a business you’ve built just to spite me. Really?” I stand, unable to control the fury that is pulsing through my body. Only my mother would go to such lengths to punish me for doing what I wanted.

“I’m not selling you my shares!” she snaps.

“Okay,” I drawl. I sit back down.

She waits for me to be still. “I’m going to die. My oncologist has given me two months to live.”

“Wait. What? Oncologist? You have cancer?”

She nods like I’ve asked her if she enjoyed her salad at lunch. “I have. A really bad kind and I’m at a very late stage.”

My eyes immediately go to her breasts. “You can’t … get them cut off? Have chemo? Radiation?”

Mom licks her lips. “No. I have pancreatic cancer that has travelled to many of my other organs and there’s nothing that can be done. If there was, you know I’d be fighting for my life, doing anything I could.”

I don’t know what to say. How did I not notice she was in pain? I wrack my brain for any clues she might have given me. Nothing.

And then I think about all of the times I’d wished my mom were dead. I know that’s a horrible thing for a daughter to wish, but it’s true. She is not a nice person. She’s been nothing but mean and manipulative and she’s driven anyone who would’ve loved her away. But she’s my mother. That’s the thing of it. She’s my mother and she is going to be gone, for real. I can’t process this.

Suddenly, the image of Gabe’s gray face, his head cocked to the side laying against my chest in the water, floods my mind. He’d looked dead. He’d maybe been dead. My mother was going to be dead. Soon. Her face would be gray and her eyes wouldn’t stare me down and make me feel insignificant. She wasn’t going to judge me anymore.

She wasn’t going to see me.

I bolt out of the chair. “I’m going to be late for swimming.”

“Go then.” She waves me away. “The report’s done. I’ll lock up. I’ve said all I had to say to you.”

Gabe is putting away the cleaning supplies when I rush past the bathroom. “Brynn! Wait up!”

I keep going. I don’t know if he’d heard any of our conversation, but I don’t want to have to tell him what she said or explain my reaction. I don’t want to deal. I want to push it down. Keep it away from the surface until I can be ready for it.

Until then, I want to be numb. I need to get in the water and float and blank out.

Upstairs, I grab my bag and then I’m at the back door, popping my head in. “I’m going to wait by the van.”

“What?” I hear Gabe say as I walk away. “Oh, okay. Be right there.”

He comes out the front door, my dying mother locking the door behind him, and meets me at the van. “You wanna tell me what happened in there? Are you okay? You don’t seem okay.”

Gabe rolls over to me and reaches for my hand.

“I’m going to be late for class. I’m fine. Just regular Mom stuff. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So, your Mom dying of cancer is a regular occurrence?” Gabe says, his brows furrowed and his eyes full of concern.

I can’t be vulnerable. I can’t fall apart. “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?”

He shrugs. “Not intentionally. The bathroom is next to the office and I could hear most of what you were saying – especially the yelling parts.” He takes my other hand in his and attempts to pull me onto his lap, but I don’t budge. I also don’t let go of his hands. “I want to help you get through this. I want and need you to be able to lean on me, Brynn. Nothing about our connection rings true if we can’t help each other through the difficult times in life.”

My stubbornness and meanness get the best of me. “I’m the one with the problem, okay? Not you, so don’t put your expectations about our connection on me. I may overshare or blurt out whatever I’m thinking most of the time, but sometimes I need to keep things in and this is one of those instances.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to … I just need you to know that I am here for you whenever. I care about you and I want to make sure that you’re dealing. Y’know, fine, keep it in for a little while, but not too long. Don’t set yourself back when you could be on your way to coping.”

“What do you know about how I cope? What makes you think I’m not on my way, this way?” I say. Now I do drop his hands and step back.

“I know because I’m the same way. I blocked my feelings about my accident and coasted along, pretending that I was doing okay. Believing that I was going to get better, that I was going to walk again. Sometimes, Brynn, hope is bullshit. Hope is dangerous and the last thing you need. It wasn’t until I started facing my situation head on that I was able to know without a doubt that I could live with it.” Gabe rolls forward, forcing me to back up against the van. “You’ve got a lot of confusing feelings about your mom, I know you do. You two hate each other, which isn’t something I understand, but I guess it’s been working for the both of you. Now she’s going to be gone and … I’m trying to look at the situation from your point of view. How do you feel about someone you hate dying? Someone you have nothing but resentment for? The way I see it, that hate and resentment has been a constant in your life. A life that’s about to have a big hole in it. You’re going to miss her, despite how awfully she treated you and Liam, despite how she could’ve been if she’d just tried to find some kindness in her heart. And running away from me, running away from this big, big thing that is happening to you is not going to work. There is no hope here. She will not get better and life will not carry on as it has.”

I gulp in air, feeling like I’m drowning under the rush of his words. He’s right. He’s so completely right and I want to give in to him. But, goddamn, despair is such a hard thing to accept. And if I accept it about this, what else will come flooding out?

I climb onto Gabe’s lap and bury my face in the crook of his neck, my tears coming in a torrent, my cries gasping and animalistic.

Stepping off the high dive. Gabe’s arms engulf me and hold me tight, so strong and solid. I sob even harder, if that’s possible, realizing I’m never going to become my mother. This, right here, this giving in, this letting go and trusting another person with your sadness and grief and troubles, my mother has never done this.

“You’re saving my life,” I blurt out, wiping my nose on the back of my coat sleeve.

“Like you saved mine?”

My heart feels like it stops as panic shoots through me.

“You see all of me, Brynn. I know you do and you don’t care that I’m broken,” Gabe says, brushing the tears away under my eyes. “I believe I can make it in this world, just as I am. That’s a gift.”

“It sounds an awful lot like hope to me, FFCH.”

“Maybe.” He chuckles. “Maybe hope is one of those things you have to let go of to get it back when you’ve got yourself right.”

I pull my phone from my pocket. “Class was just supposed to start. There’s gonna be an elderly uprising for sure.”

“Like, throwing the bleachers into the pool?”

“Well, they’ll at least discuss the possibility, but then someone, probably Mrs. Benedetto, will point out they can’t lift things like they used to and maybe they should all just go have a nice piece of gooey butter cake.”

“Shit. Can we get in on that?”

“There’s no cake.” I get up from his lap. “Only pissed off old people who want to float and now that I’ve had a breakdown, I feel I deserve to as well.”

“We’re still gonna talk after class, though, right?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’ll even buy you some cake and coffee while we talk.”

“’Cause I’m the best boyfriend ever?”

“Sure. And I also really want cake and coffee now.”

Chapter Fourteen

I know Mom hasn’t told Liam about her cancer and I wonder if she’s even told Dad or Grandpa. The way things are between us … I somehow understand that she’s been preparing me to take over her role in the business and deal with the men in our lives.

After my float and more talking with Gabe, I come to the conclusion that my mom is not afraid to die and probably somewhat relieved not to have to be in charge of it all anymore. Not that anyone has asked her to do everything, she is just so particular she won’t accept anyone else’s help or ideas.

But, it’s up to me to tell my brother, because no one else can. And also because he won’t pick up the phone for anyone in our family except me.

I sit down cross-legged in the middle of my unmade bed and decide to text first, to get my nerve up.

Hey. I’ve got something to tell you. Can you talk right now?

Instead of texting back and giving me my lead time, he calls right away. I pick up.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks, his voice low. “I’ve got a show starting in a few minutes, but your text was sort of emo, so I thought I should talk to you before you tighten the rope or swallow the fistful of pills.”

“You and your suicide snark are the best, bro,” I say, my nerves calming some.
This is Liam and he can handle what you have to say.

“Uh oh, you called me bro. Now I’m really worried.”

I can hear men in the background warming up their voices, going falsetto, then clearing their throats and running scales again.

“So, I’m just going to say it,” I blurt. “Mom’s got pancreatic cancer and only a couple months to live. You really need to come home for Christmas now, please.”

There is a distinct pause and then, “You’re not fucking with me?” he says, his voice hard, holding back the anger and sadness that I unleashed on Gabe earlier.

“I wouldn’t. Not about something like this.” Inhaling a deep breath, I steady myself for what I really want to get across to my brother. “And if you’re feeling conflicted, if your first thought was, ‘good’ and then you felt like the biggest piece of crap on the planet, well, I was there about four hours ago.”

Liam sighs. “Shit, Brynn. Of course I’ll come home.”

“Okay, good,” I say, relief washing over me. “At the very least we can have one final, horrible Christmas together.”

That gets a chuckle out of him. “You seem to be processing this really well. How long have you known?”

“Mom told me today after work.”

“Oh,” he drawls. “Okay, so you’re still in shock. ’Cause I gotta be in shock right now. Did I just agree to come home?”

“You did,” I answer, ignoring the shock comment. “No take backs.”

“How’s Dad reacting? Or has she not told him yet?”

“I don’t know. He’s next on my list.”

Liam makes a sound akin to growling. “She didn’t ask you to break the news did she?”

“No…”

“But she knew you would.” He sighs heavily. “I can tell Dad. He’s already whatever about me, so if he gets pissed or breaks down and wants to blame someone, then he can do it on me long distance instead of getting to you face-to-face. God, his drinking is bound to go into overdrive.”

“I’m slightly worried about that with you,” I say, my voice quiet.

He snorts. “Don’t be. Dani and I haven’t had a drink since Thanksgiving and the great wine hangover from hell. I literally heard my brain rattling in my skull. Plus, she’s working on a new play and can’t write for shit when she’s drunk. She’s, like, the opposite of every other writer in the world.” He laughs. “I won’t go off the rails, I promise. Dani keeps me grounded. But who’s there for you? Gabe? Or is it not that kind of relationship?”

I blush at my drag queen brother sounding embarrassed to be asking me that question.

“No, Gabe is awesome. He forced me to talk it out with him immediately. I think that’s why I’m dealing so well, I don’t think I’m in shock anymore.”

“Good, good.” He chuckles again. “Fuck, life is ridiculous. I want to talk to you more, but I have to go be Hollee and sing back up on an Adele song now.”

“It’s fine. Work it out on stage or some such actorly thing people like you say to each other. Break your ass, or whatevs. And don’t worry about telling Dad. I got it.”

“Love you, B. You’re a strong person.”

“Strong smelling,” we say simultaneously – a stupid joke between us since forever.

~

Telling Dad about Mom goes exactly how I thought it would. He says, “Thanks for letting me know,” like if I hadn’t, Mom would’ve just dropped dead and Dad would’ve been only slightly more confused than he normally is. After I finish and he retreats to the den to watch one of the umpteen History Channel shows he spends his evenings with while he absently grades papers, Mom comes down the stairs to the landing and nods at me.

I say, “You’re welcome,” and then she turns and shuffles back upstairs.

The next afternoon, Gabe goes with me to talk to Grandpa. We bring pumpkin pie and Cool Whip and Gabe gets him a six-pack of the Newcastle beer he likes.

Telling Grandpa is hard on me and even harder on him.

“She couldn’t tell me herself? What in the hell is her problem? Do you think the cancer made her this way?”

I have a theory about the way she is being the cause of the cancer, but I don’t think it’s the best time to share that with anyone.

Then, the telling is done and life carries on the same as it had before.

~

“Uh, Brynn, could ya come here a sec?” I hear Gabe call from the front. He’s been working by himself for almost two weeks and only needs my help every once in a while. It is awesome. I am getting so much paperwork done and I’m able to actually get all the tickets for the next day processed by mid-afternoon – something that always took me right up to close.

I set my coffee down and head to the front, customer service smile plastered across my face, ready to help Gabe get the line down quickly.

To my surprise, however, there’s only one customer standing at the counter and my smile isn’t going to do shit to calm him down.

“Hi, how can I help you?” I ask, sliding into managerial mode.

“Well, for starters,” he huffs, accentuating his words by jabbing the air with his index finger, “it would be great if you could find the one hundred choir robes I need for the concert tonight over at St. Cecilia’s. And if they’ve actually been cleaned, that would be even better.”

I don’t remember this guy bringing in a hundred choir robes or recall seeing that many garments being hung up and bagged. Three, sometimes four, people work here. Where the fuck are this guy’s robes?

“Could I see your ticket please?”

The guy nods at Gabe and Gabe hands it to me, the distinct look of panic in his eyes. Uh-oh.

I look the ticket over and see that Gabe did in fact take in the robes. “You put these in a bin?” I ask.

He nods emphatically. “I did. They weren’t stained or anything, just needed freshening up, so I didn’t put tape on them. I just put them in a bin and rolled it to the back and put it in line to be cleaned.”

“Okay, that all seems correct.” I turn to the guy who is now leaning on the counter and tapping his middle finger against it like that’s going to make his shit magically appear. “Let me go look in back. There’s no way we lost your order.”

Holding the ticket out in front of me as if it will somehow guide me to its contents, I start in the obvious place – where all the bins are.

So, the bins are big white plastic containers on wheels and kind of hard to miss. We have ten of them and usually move them to the back when they’re full up with multiple orders. This order would’ve used up an entire bin. I count them and there are only nine, so there is definitely one missing, but it’s not like there is anywhere to hide them in the store or somewhere they could get lost – the office and bathroom have a door but other than that, the space is wide open.

I look at Junnuen and hold ten fingers up, point to the bins, shake my head, and then hold up nine fingers. She looks taken aback and comes over to stand next to me. She counts them and then looks right and left and then turns all the way around.

“Not in office?” she says.

I shake my head. “No room.”

“What kind of idiot loses such a big order?” I hear the guy shout at Gabe and then Gabe mumbling apologies.

Junnuen elbows me in the side and then points to the far right corner where we keep the boxes of plastic garment bags. We bag every item, so we use a lot of bags and have them stacked almost all the way to the ceiling of the store.

The last shipment we got, I signed off on, but had asked Gabe to help me bring them inside. I’d gotten pulled away to help a customer up front and then by the time I was done, Gabe had had the new boxes put away. I’d wondered how he’d made such quick work of hauling in twelve boxes and now I knew. He’d stacked them in a bin and left the bin over by the others, probably figuring I would take them out and stack them later, because duh, he could only stack them three high and all the other columns were ten high.

“I’m so sorry!” I hear him wail and then he’s rolling into the back room on the verge of tears.

“Hey, chill out,” I say, getting in front of him and putting my hands on his arm rests. “I found the robes. We both fucked up. It’ll be okay.”

“I can’t talk to that guy. He’s too mad at me.” Gabe takes a couple of deep breaths and then thwacks himself in the head. “He’s right. I am an idiot!”

I want to assure Gabe he’s not and that it’s a mistake and mistakes happen, but now the guy is making a huge scene. The bells on the door jingle. Great, and he’s got an audience.

I hurry up front. “Sir, I found your robes. What is the latest you can pick them up this evening? I can get them cleaned for you immediately.”

He holds his hands up like he wants to push me, but thinks better of it and curls his fingers into fists. “The latest I can get them? Well,
now
is the latest I can come pick them up that’s convenient for me, but I guess someone else might be able to hurry the hell over here at five in rush hour traffic.” He turns to the man and women behind him in the lobby. “You believe this?” He’s back at me. “There’s no way we’re paying for this either. You’ve lost our business.”

I want to tell this douche to fuck right off. I want to set his bin of robes on fire and push it at his stupid ass face. This mistake is going to cost us a lot of money and if this guy was the least bit Christian and the least bit not a total effing jackhole, I would’ve given him a very deep discount, but now I am going to have to be treated like shit
and
clean his robes for free so we don’t end up in small claims or on the 6 o’clock news’ Bad Business segment.

“Of course, sir,” I say, mentally curling my fingers into fists too. “The robes will be ready by five.”

He storms out and I smile at the other customers. The guy is a regular, Mr. Brown, and the woman is a new customer. Both smile back at me. Apparently, they think the guy is a jackhole too.

“Let me go get Gabe to help you. He’ll be right up.”

Gabe isn’t where I left him, so I go look in the office, and when I don’t see him there, I notice the bathroom door is closed. “Gabe? We’ve got customers. Can you deal or…?”

I hear him clear his throat. “Yeah. Gimme one second.”

I back up and the door opens. He rolls out. Gabe’s eyes are red and puffy and he’s blotting at them with a damp paper towel. “Sorry I fucked everything up. I’ll understand if you need to fire me.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. It was my fuckup just as much as it was yours.” I give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now get up front and help the perfectly nice people that are waiting.”

“Sure, sure. That’s what I thought about the last guy.” Gabe rolls off and I go to break the bad news to Junnuen that we’ll be working overtime to get everything we need done today completed, but she’s already loading the robes into the machines.

“Sorry,” I say.

She shrugs. “Happens everyone, you know? Okay? Even your mama.”

I laugh. “Gracias, Junnuen.”

She shrugs again. “Coffee?”

“I’m on it!”

Instead of going through the rear door, I leave through the front so I can check up on Gabe. He was dangerously close to getting overwhelmed and the last thing I need is for him to freak out and quit. I also need him to prove to his parents that he can be independent or I fear they’ll never let him really grow up. He’ll be stuck in this place where he has no idea what he wants besides me, and I don’t want to become a crutch or an excuse.

Gabe nods at me, already finished with Mr. Brown and moving on to the woman’s order. “Check me out putting the clothes into the bin which I will
then
put in the proper place in back.”

I snort and the woman giggles. “Employee of the month,” I say. “Seriously.”