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Winter In August Page 7
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“When did this happen?” I asked pointing to the boy. Kris and I talked about having children one day after I finished college. He always said he wanted a daughter that looked like me.
“I became pregnant three months before he left. He never met his son,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Jesus Christ. I had no clue, and I was usually good at finding out when I was being lied to. Wouldn’t someone have told my dad? I mean come on.
“So, you had sex with him more than once?” Please, let her say they screwed once. I could take this situation better if they fucked one time.
“Gabby, we were in love.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with her hand. I didn’t know what to do. I knew what I wanted to do, but I had to keep myself together. The kid was running in between other gravestones and yelling. “I want to go home, Mommy. I’m hungry.” Hillary ignored him and kept her eyes on Kris’s grave.
I wasn’t done making my point. “As one woman to another, how could you do this to me?” I glared at her and she couldn’t look me in the eye.
“I’m sorry. I loved him too, Gabby. He told me he loved me, and he was going to tell you.”
Tell me. I never had any inclination he didn’t love me. Was he that good at fooling me?
“You’re sorry. You’re fucking sorry. I had a breakdown from missing him. I dropped out of college from missing him. I wasted five years of my life mourning his death. I didn’t know about you or little Christopher. I was devastated over the death of the man I planned on marrying one day.” I wanted to get out of there, but I had a couple of questions to ask her first. Hilary stood there with her head down.
“You said Kris was going to tell me before he left. What was he going to tell me?” I asked.
“He was going to tell you I was pregnant and he and I were… come on Gabby, what does knowing this matter now?”
“Bullshit, Hilary. He didn’t love you,” I yelled at her getting closer as she backed up. I kept my hands by my sides in fists. The pain of this situation was ripping me apart.
“Why did he give me this, Gabby?” She held up her left hand in my face. The diamond ring I so desperately wanted before he left. The ring I found in his dresser drawer and waited for him to give to me at the airport, was on Hilary’s left hand. Even though Kris had been dead for five years, she still wore the ring.
Hilary started crying and the little boy came up to her.
“What’s wrong, Mommy? Do you miss Dad?”
I’d had enough. I had to leave before I raged into a full out fist fight with a woman I had no idea Kris was in love with, let alone was secretly engaged, and had knocked up.
“Hillary, I feel sorry for you. Have a good life. I hope this doesn’t happen to you because karma’s a bitch. I have to get out of this god-forsaken town and back to the real world.” My fingers went to the silver beaded dog tags I had on my neck and wore on the days I missed him. I was as pathetic as Hilary was with the ring. His dog tags meant nothing to me. With my hands shaking, I ripped the chain off my neck and threw the necklace towards Hilary on the ground.
“Obviously, you should be the one wearing this instead of me.” I walked off without waiting for a comment from the one girl I had always despised. I wasted so many years of my life on him. First loving him, and mourning him. Like my mom, he never truly loved me. I trudged back up the hill as I sobbed. What I wanted to do was run. I didn’t know where, but I had to go somewhere and be alone.
My dad was sleeping with his head back on the headrest and his cap over his eyes. I opened the car door. He jumped, and his hat fell in his lap.
“Dad, let’s get out of here,” I said, trying not to let him see the tears, but it was too late.
“What’s wrong? I knew you shouldn’t have gone. I knew you would be sad.”
“No, Dad. You were right about him.” I wailed as I buried my head in my dad’s shirt.
“What are you talking about, Mooch?” He reached his hand up to pat my head.
“I…Kris was not the person I thought he was.” My cries of despair made my dad hold me tighter.
“I should’ve gone out there with you. What the hell happened?” I sat back and looked into his eyes as mine spilled over with tears.
“Tell me you didn’t know, Dad. Please tell me you didn’t know.” He looked at me in shock. I searched his face for the truth.
“What are you talking about? Know what, Mooch?”
“Did you know he had a five-year-old son? You could have met him and the woman he was engaged to.” My heart was a mangled mess. I was broken and torn, living his loss all over again. This time, the pain was worse. This news was harder to take than his death, and I sobbed as my dad held me in his arms.
“I didn’t know, baby. I didn’t know. It will be okay.” He kissed my head and rocked me like he did when I was a little girl.
“You had to know. This town is small and that’s some good gossip.”
“No, I didn’t know. We can drive over to his parent’s house right now and get to the bottom of this shit.”
I shook my head no. I didn’t want to see anyone associated with Kris. What good would it do now? I didn’t care who knew, I just didn’t want my dad to have kept this from me.
We sat in the truck, and he let me vent like he always did for as long as I needed. I thought about the day we sent him off at the airport. His parents and I stood in the window watching him wave goodbye to us as he boarded the plane. Where was Hilary then? Was she secretly there somewhere? She was pregnant and wearing his ring as I stood and begged him not to leave me one last time, thinking my world was over when he boarded the plane. What an idiot I was.
After I cried for a half hour while my dad held me, the pain embedded into my soul started to ease. First, my mom abandoned me, and now the man I adored never loved me. I needed to get out of there and drive. This new revelation was too much for me, and the thought of being anywhere near Hilary and her child made me sick to my stomach. I promised myself I’d shed the last tear over Kris Graber or any man.
Chapter 9
Later in the afternoon, while I was making a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and deciding when to get out of there, my dad hugged me.
“Gabriella, I want you to know how bad I feel for drinking like I did when you needed me. What I did to you was pure selfishness. I’m so sorry.”
I hugged him back. “Dad, you don’t have to keep apologizing. You were hurting too, and I survived. I’m fine. We all make stupid mistakes. Hell, I’m making them on a daily basis.”
He was my dad and he was one of the few people in my life that loved me unconditionally. I owed him the same type of love.
“Christ, you look so much like her.” I gazed into his eyes spilling over with tears. I was told I was the spitting image of my mom when she was my age. My mom, Danni, was the talk of the town when she moved there thirty years ago. My dad said seeing my mom was love at first sight, but he had to stand in line with the other men after her. She went out with my dad after he relentlessly pursued her and wore her down. He was a lot older than my mom, but he was in love and he thought she was too. The second date she became pregnant with me and figured marrying my dad was what she was supposed to do. In the letter she wrote when she left, she told him she married him because I needed a father. My heart broke every time I remembered my parents and the fights between them. She would scream and blame him for her miserable life. He would try to diffuse the situation by giving into her and letting her have whatever she wanted to keep her with him.
“Don’t say that. I don’t want to be associated with her in any way.” The thought of this woman being my mother and abandoning me for most of my life was something I didn’t want to bring up, and I pushed the memories of her out of my mind.
“She was a good mother until the time she left. I don’t know? I probably didn’t do a good job at being her husband?
I walked out of his arms. “You were an amazing husband. I remember. She didn’t love us, Dad. You think you were selfish
by drinking? She is the most selfish person I have ever encountered. I don’t have kids and probably won’t, but how can you give life to someone and leave them as if never existing? Only a selfish, evil person would do that.”
“That’s something I question every day. I understand if she didn’t want me anymore, but you? What makes a person do that, Gabby?”
“A person who doesn’t deserve us.” I hugged him again and buried my face in his shirt to remember the scent of his cologne when I left.
“I have you, Dad, and that’s all I need. Now, let’s put this past us, and move on. Hell, you have a beautiful woman who loves you now and wants to be with you.” He shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe. I’m a woman, and I know. She’s in love with you. I can’t wait for you to bring her to New York.” He laughed, and we let go. He grabbed a cigar, lit the end, and puffed away.
Reluctantly, I settled down and decided to stay another night. My tears dried and instead of being sad, I was angry. I took my anger out and cleaned my dad’s entire house for him. I mopped floors, washed windows, and rearranged his furniture in the living room. I also threw out my mother’s old faded chair and filled the empty spot with an old rocker I found in the attic. We made dinner together, drank coffee, and talked most of the night. He listened to me for hours and never once told me to stop. When he fell asleep in his chair, I was half tempted to drive to the corner bar, and drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey. I was restless and didn’t want to sleep. I stepped out on my dad’s porch and enjoyed the warm summer night and watched the fireflies dance through the air. In the midst of my loneliness, the idea of texting or calling Colt flashed in my mind. Without thinking the situation through, I pulled up his number and hit send. Then regret hit me. I cringed as I heard him answer on the first ring.
“Hello.”
Oh, that voice. My heart pounded so hard in my chest, it beat in my ears. I shouldn’t have done this. I knew I couldn’t back out now. He knew my number.
“Colt?”
“Gabriella?” he chuckled easing my fear.
“I wanted to say hi and see how you were?”
“Is that so? I knew you were thinking about me.”
“Let’s not get overly confident in yourself. It’s boring here in Ohio, and it’s been a rough day.”
“Tell me about your day.”
“I can’t right now. It’s too draining. It’s good to hear a familiar voice.”
“Are you coming home tomorrow?”
I looked at the star-filled sky searching for things to say.
“I don’t know yet. I may stay a day or two longer. I may get in the car tomorrow and drive. I have the whole week off from the salon so I may go somewhere.”
“Text me and let me know. I want to see you when you get back.”
I sighed.
“I heard that. Don’t tell me that it’s not a good idea. It’s a great idea, and all I want is one night. If you despise me after that, we’ll chock it up as friends.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I like that answer. That’s the best one you’ve given me so far.”
I laughed. “I’ll text you. Thanks for talking to me.”
“I’m always here for you Gabby. Don’t forget.”
I closed my eyes taking in the sincerity of his words. Maybe he wasn’t like the rest of the men who’ve crossed my path.
The next day, late in the afternoon, I said goodbye to my dad, my childhood, and my home. I had no intentions of coming back anytime soon. Being home was too painful. I hated to leave him and kept stalling, though getting out of there, was all I wanted.
Once I was alone in my car I was free to come apart. My emotions were all over the place from anger, sadness, to anger. I cried so much I could barely see the lines on the road. In between sobs and rage, I called my doctor and left a message. I needed to get on my medication again and soon. I thought I had gotten over everything and I could handle things, but after what happened, I needed some help. He agreed to call in something for me but wanted to see me as soon as I got home. I reluctantly promised I would.
I made a quick call to my dad to let him know where I was. The phone didn’t ring but one time and the familiar voice of my dad soothed me.
“Mooch. Where are you? I was waiting to hear you arrived home okay. I tried calling and it kept going to voicemail,” he said. I had turned my phone off after I talked to Sven and forgot to turn it back on.
“Dad. I’m okay. I needed some time alone. I’m getting a hold of my depression before it gets too bad. All of this news has taken a toll on me. Seeing our house, the memories and dealing with what Kris put me through has set me off. I need to think and be left alone for a couple of days.”
“Are you taking your medication?”
I swallowed and hesitated to tell him the truth. “To be honest with you, no. I called the doctor and I promise I won’t do this again.”
“You can’t quit taking your medication, Gabby. Anything can set you over the edge and before you know this, you’re in a full-blown depression. You shouldn’t have come home. The memories were too much.”
“No, I needed for this to happen. If I hadn’t come home, I would’ve never found out about Kris.”
“Please call me if you need anything. Don’t do something stupid, Mooch.”
“Dad, I won’t. I promise. Sometimes you need to run away for a while. I needed to run.”
“You know your mom used to say the same to me. Call me tomorrow. I’ll be able to tell by your voice if you are bad.”
“Dad I have to go. I will call you tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
‘I know. I love you too.”
* * * * *
For whatever reason, I plugged in the Seaside Cottage in my GPS and drove. The car traveled down the highway and I couldn’t wait to get to the shore. The sadness and confusion were going on in my brain like a movie playing repeatedly. My childhood, the abandonment, and the betrayal all flashed in my mind. I stopped for gas, junk food, and coffee. I was basically on autopilot as I kept driving and listening to music trying to forget what had happened. The tears streamed down my face and seeing the road became more difficult. The utter sadness of everything hit me as I drove and drove through the night. The white lines on the road and the lights from the highway, guided me till the sun came up. By then, I noticed I was in New Jersey.
The signs for the Seaside Cottages popped up in the early morning sunshine. I remembered them from the drive with my mom. The old weathered billboards were the same as when we would pass them almost twenty years ago. Being on the shore was the one time I saw my mom smile and not have a worried downtrodden pout on her face. She said the Seaside Cottages recharged her. Maybe it would do the same for me. As I pulled into the drive leading to the old battered cottages, I noticed the aging resort was not very busy. The place looked desolate.
I pulled up to the small office and a young boy came out to welcome me. He said, “Welcome to the Seaside Cottages, where the ocean kisses your back door each morning and kisses you goodnight each night.” He was cute, very young, tall and skinny with a sweet smile. I parked the car, stepped out and walked into the air conditioned office. He took my credit card, gave me a key and offered to lead me to the cottage. I said I could find my way and started down the wooden walkway I remembered from so many years before. I had blocked out so many memories of my childhood. I even blocked out details of this place, and memories began coming back to me. Once inside my small cottage consisting of a bed, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchen, I flopped on the bed and let the memories take me as I listened to the waves lap at the shore. It didn’t take long before I drifted off to sleep. I dreamt Kris was alive and he was living in New York with Hilary. They lived in the salon and the kid was there sitting in my chair at Gino’s. Waking up gasping for air, I decided to walk to the water and then get something to eat.
A breeze came off the ocean as I walked to the shore a
nd sat in the sand. The sky was filled with fluffy clouds as the day was showing a hint of a beautiful evening. The air was hot for the end of August, yet I was cold. The chill was either my nerves, or the fact I remembered my mother, but my body was cold as winter inside. This was the place that gave my mom so much happiness, yet the place didn’t seem to be doing the same for me. This was her secret getaway to get in the car and leave the world behind, and I had hoped doing the same would help me get a grip on my life. The sights and sounds of the beach were embedded into my memory as I listened to the water lap at the shore. The breeze blew my hair around my face as I watched the clouds pass by.
I must have sat there for an hour as I tried to make sense of what my life was about. I started to stand and head back to my cottage when I heard a voice behind me spoke.
“This view is a beautiful sight.” An older woman’s voice said behind me. I jumped, startled at the fact I wasn’t alone.
I grabbed my chest in response. “Oh, God you scared me. Yes, it’s picturesque. I’m from the city, and you can't see this there.”
“That’s true. Are you hiding out?” She laughed as she sat next to me. I was a little uncomfortable at her forwardness.
I turned to face her “Excuse me?”
“It’s a figure of speech, doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Annie Carlisle owner of the infamous Seaside Cottages.” She continued to stare at me.
“Nice to meet you, Annie.” I searched her face and something was familiar. The lines on her face showed she was not a new smoker. She was probably once a beautiful woman with long blonde hair tied in a French braid down her back. Annie was skinny with tanned skin, no shoes and cut-offs showing off her shapely legs.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” I was taken aback by what she said.
“Remember you? No.” My gaze locked onto her face, trying to remember. Her voice sounded familiar.