Second Chances (75 page)

Life became routine.  Isabella or Isabella and the kids, traveled to Montreal each weekend.  Maggie became a regular, caring for the kids in the evenings while Gabriel and Isabella toured Montreal.  Maggie was wonderful with them.  They adored her and she them, but often Isabella felt a twinge of guilt.

“Maggie, you know we love you,” Isabella began one evening as she prepared to attend a play with Gabriel.  She had been putting the finishing touches on her face when Maggie walked into the bedroom for instructions.  “I just worry that we are keeping you fr
om something better.  You know…job security.”

Gabriel stuck his head in the doorway.  “Bella, darling, I was just writing the check for Maggie this weekend.  What is today?”

Isabella laughed.  “For a businessman, you have no concept of time.  It’s March 31st.”

“Thank you, my love.”  He strode over and gave her a kiss on the back of her neck, lingering there for a moment to inhale her scent, then left the two women alone once more.

“Oh really, missy,” Maggie laughed.  “You don’t think I have job security?  You don’t see what I see.  No ma’am, you don’t see it.  I’ll spend plenty of time with these two.”  She laughed again, this time throwing her head back as she walked out of the bedroom.

Maggie sounded so sure of herself that Isabella wanted to believe her.  But Isabella should have learned long ago that that was when a person could be most easily blindsided.  And so it was that this March signaled not only the end of winter, but very nearly the end of her first year without Jack.  Life with Gabriel had been so filled with happiness that she hadn’t even had time to contemplate the anniversary.  In fact, all she had been thinking about was when to share with Gabriel her complimentary issue of the magazine in which his apartment was featured. 
Tomorrow
, she promised,
when it’s quiet, after the kids are in bed. 
For now, Isabella had grown confident that there would always be a tomorrow.

The next night arrived cool, cloudy, and damp.  Isabella found herself in the bathroom bathing the children when the doorbell rang.  She yelled for Maggie to answer it, since Gabriel was on the phone in their room conducting business.  Moments later, Isabella emerged from the bathroom wiping her hands on a towel at the same time Gabriel exited the bedroom. 

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
no
t 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?”