3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The salary wasn’t much, but it was the starting level at two of the zoos he’d wanted to apply for, and it would supplement the savings left by Ben and Darlene. Basically, it was all he could have wished for.

He splurged on pizza that night instead of another meal of Thanksgiving leftovers. Brandon even smiled at him.

As they were chowing down the food, he gave his announcement. “Now, it’s not a lot more money, but I found a job that is really good for us.” Brandon’s eyes widened, but Gabriel said, “Still not enough for a drone. But why don’t we start saving for one?”

“Saving? Both of us?”

Gabriel thought quickly and made a deal. “If you give up one dollar of your allowance every week, I’ll put up ten dollars a week. If we make it to a hundred by Easter, I’ll make sure you get the drone before summer.”

Brandon chewed his cheek while his eyes moved up, around, back up again. While he was lost in thought, Tristan asked, “Me too, Gabe?”

“How about we start saving for a remote-controlled car for you?”

“Do they have mote-roll dinos?”

Gabriel was confused. “Well, I don’t know, but we’ll look on the Internet later when you get screen time. Deal?”

“Dill!”

Gabriel leaned over to wipe sauce from Tristan’s cheeks as Brandon finally came up with his answer. “Okay, I guess, but if I do extra work, can I add to it and maybe get it earlier?”

Thrilled, Gabriel pretended to think it over, then agreed. “Sure. I think that would be great, Brandon. You can start with clearing the table.”

“Sure, but you take his plate. It’s always gross.”

That was something they could agree on. Tristan was a messy eater. “Dill,” Gabriel said as he winked at Tristan.

The old tradition was a special memory for him. While Tristan played games on the tablet and Brandon played a video game on the television, Gabriel went down to the basement to stare at the boxes in the corner labeled Christmas Decorations .

When he was little, his mother collected balls for the tree, made popcorn for garlands, and found little decorations from the Dollar Store. They never had much, but he never noticed because she made each holiday so special.

Besides their house, she always saved enough money for a full gas tank to drive through the streets to look at everyone’s Christmas lights. They’d drink hot cocoa from her thermos and sing carols while gasping happily at the lights people put up on their homes.

Another tradition was that it was time to decorate for Christmas when all the Thanksgiving leftovers were finished. Now that he was an adult, Gabriel thought she was very sly. It was long enough to rest up from cooking all that food and help him make crafts for all the fall holidays the previous weeks.

There were still leftovers upstairs in the fridge, and for that, he was grateful. The thought of going through all those things she’d collected over twenty-five years…he knew it would hurt.

Still, he refused to let Christmas go by without them.

“Gabe! Gaaaaabe! Where you at?”

“One day, I’m going to change my name,” he mumbled before returning to the kitchen. “What’s up, dorkness?”

“Kin I get a drink? Want juice.”

“Say, I want juice, please, Gabe .”

Tristan cocked his head like a puppy, and Gabriel had to choke the laughter back into his throat. “I wanna get juice, pwease , Gabe.”

“Close enough,” he said while ruffling Tristan’s hair.

After pouring Tristan some juice, Gabriel stared into the fridge, happy to see that most of their small turkey was gone and their sides were leveled nicely.

He spent the rest of the evening with the boys, watching their favorite shows. Once they were in bed and he was on the couch, he let himself think of Alan.

At first, any thought of himself made him drown in guilt. He felt his mother had always put him and the boys first in her life, with herself as a distant last, that for Gabriel to think of himself now that he was a pseudo-parent would be selfish.

It was those few hours at night when the boys were tucked into their beds, that he allowed self-centered thoughts.

Usually, he simply looked through his social media, but that night, he just let his mind roam. The guy would be his boss Monday morning, so it wasn’t likely anything would happen between them. Dreaming, however, wasn’t against any laws or social codes. He could think of things, of Alan, and tuck them away, much like he’d tucked the boys into bed.

Alan’s arms were big, and Gabriel had seen that even through the nice sweater. He imagined himself wrapped up in them, staring at the lights of a Christmas tree they’d decorated together. Maybe Alan would have made gingerbread cookies, and he’d give one to Gabriel, kissing his neck and whispering more of those sweet words in his ear.

Holding his pillow, he let his thoughts take him wherever they wanted to go, and for once, he let himself think of the one thing he’d wanted that he saw in Alan’s eyes.

An older man, one that would care for him, hold him...He wanted to be the center of a man’s thoughts, held each night like he was a precious, tender thing. Alan could be that man, he knew it. Alan would treat a guy like he was the most precious thing in the world to him.

He’d ask how Gabriel’s day was, and if it was bumpy, Alan would hold him, make a meal of purely comfort food, bring him a hot cup of tea and make everything better. How he needed that. Being the parent was the hardest thing in the world when he so missed being the one who was protected and cherished.

Those thoughts would not keep him warm, but they did let him fall into a soft sleep, one where his dreams took flight into all things sweet and loving.

He woke with Tristan tugging on his hand. “Gabe. Gabe? Gaaaabe !”

With a gritty voice, he barely opened his eyes and said, “I’m gonna change my name.”

“To what?”

“Anything that you can’t pronounce.”

Cocking his head again, Tristan continued to tug his hand.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Wan’ a drink.”

Gabriel sat up, barely, and saw it was still dark. He gathered Tristan into his arms the minute he stood and carried him to the kitchen. “Woke up with a mighty thirst, did ya?”

His hazel eyes got wide as he affirmed, “Sure did! Mighty.”

“Okay. We’ll fix you right up.”

He got a small plastic cup and filled it in the tap then handed it to Tristan, who downed the entire thing. After filling it again, he carried the boy up to his room and gently settled him back under the covers. “You okay? No bad dreams?”

“No. Just wanted a drink.”

After sitting on the edge of the twin bed, Gabriel turned on the light on the nightstand that sent rainbow colors of planets, stars and rocket ships all around the room. “You know, Tristan, you’re a really good boy.”

“I know,” he said, then turned to his side and was almost instantly back asleep.

Gabriel kissed his soft hair and left the cup of water next to the light and left the door open a crack.

On his way down the stairs, he thought about his words to Tristan. He had been praised and told he was a good boy, just like Alan had done.

He’d praised Gabriel and went so far as to give him a much-needed job. Could it be possible that was why Gabriel had gone to bed, enamored with the man?

It made sense, of course. Having someone tell him that he was doing good things and that he was a good person made him feel so warm inside—like he hadn’t felt since losing his only parent.

Darlene had never held back her praise. In fact, she would spend each night before bed telling Gabriel how good he was. He’d just done the same for Tristan, and Tristan must have been used to hearing that.

Darlene strikes again.

Those little words that meant so much to a child, but they didn’t hurt as an adult, too. Hearing them from Alan wasn’t the same as hearing them from his mom, but that didn’t take from them a bit.

He knew that he’d work so hard for that company, Alan would never regret hiring him.

Monday morning came with a flurry of activity. It was always like that with the boys getting ready for school. How his mother had done it with such flair, always with a smile, never rushed or cranky, he’d never know.

Slurping coffee from his mug before barking out orders to get dressed, get shoes on, get breakfast eaten, reminders of the time over and over, it was like fighting bulls in a Spanish stadium.

Finally, after their coats were on and backpacks in hand, they were out the door and into the Jeep, being belted in while Tristan sang some cartoon theme song aloud and Brandon complained about the weather, of all things.

“Why can’t we move to Florida or California. I’m tired of it being cold.”

“You don’t like when it’s too hot either, Brandon, or you burn red as a lobster every summer.”

“Well, ain’t there a place that doesn’t get too hot or too cold?”

“Isn’t, not ain’t, and yeah. Here, usually. It’s just a really cold winter, that’s all. After Christmas, spring comes fast.”

After he got into the driver’s seat, Brandon asked him, “What if we did, though? Move, I mean.”

A few days ago, that would have been music to his ears. After getting the job with Alan, however, his hometown didn’t feel so distant from the rest of the world any longer.

Still, never crush a kid’s dream. “Well, for now, we’re here because it’s where we belong. We might talk about moving eventually. I like San Diego, myself.”

“Is it hot there or cold?”

“Hot.”

“Ick.”

So much for the San Diego Zoo. “Yeah, ick,” he said half-heartedly.

After dropping the boys at their school, Gabriel pointed the Jeep to his new start. There were more cars there that morning, and he walked into the building buzzing with voices, laughter and phones ringing.

Polly was the woman behind the reception desk, and she waved him over once she saw him. “Hey, Gabriel! Welcome to the team,” she said as she pushed her wirerimmed glasses up her nose. “This is the team.” She stood and clapped her bony hands to get their attention. The five looked over, smiling. “Everyone, this is Gabriel, and he’s joining us on the matching end. Gabriel, this is, from left to right, Margo, Steve, Cece, Deidre, and that short lady there is Lori,”

The first four were young, around his age, and older, but not exceeding thirty-five in his guesstimation. Lori was older, in her forties or early fifties. Her hair was stark white, and she had eyes like a hawk, but her smile was warm, and she was the first to reach her hand to him. “Good to have you, Gabriel. Or is it Gabe?”

“Only my little brother calls me that. I don’t know why no one else ever did.”

Steve was African American, taller than his 5’10 inches by quite a lot, but he was very nice. “Good to have more men on the team. Don’t let these banshees bully you around. They do that.”

He was playfully smacked by Cece, a muscled woman with short blond hair and startlingly light blue eyes. “He pretends to be bullied, so Lori brings him donuts every morning.”

“I take care of the poor and abused.”

Gabriel liked them all immediately. “Thanks, everyone. I’m happy to be here.”

Alan came out of the back and saw him, smiling immediately. “Gabriel! Welcome! Everyone, this is?”

“We’ve met, Alan,” Lori told him. “We’re already sizing him up, and so far, we approve.”

“Lori, what would I do without you?”

“Hopefully, you’ll never find out. This place would fall to pieces.” She turned to Gabriel and said, “Good to have you. If you need any help, come find me.”

Alan escorted him down the hall and to a small office. It was cluttered with boxes, but there was a small desk and shelves of binders beside it. “This will be your office as soon as we get it cleared out. We haven’t had another matcher, which is what we clumsily call your position, in a while. Cece is the other, and she’s amazing but has been asking for help since Terrance moved to Santa Fe.”

“I’m glad to help.”

Alan’s hand waved over the shelf. “These are the pieces of art we currently have on file, but don’t worry, you won’t be searching through binders to find what you need. Everything that we’ll have brought in for you is on the computer. It’s been a weekend from hell, so we haven’t gotten a chance to, yet.

“You’ll answer emails, see what the places are looking for or what the artist offers, and Cece or I will show you how to input the data. If you find what you think is a match, let us know for now, and as you get more used to it, we’ll let you fly solo.”

That was a great relief. He was scared to death he’d mess up and disappoint Alan. “That sounds great, actually.”

Alan’s smile never wavered as he stared into Gabriel’s eyes, not moving a muscle for a long moment. “I’m so glad you’re here, Gabriel.”

Somewhat shy suddenly, Gabriel broke their eye contact and ducked his head while his face warmed like the surface of the sun. “I am, too. Alan.”

“Look at me, Gabriel?”

It wasn’t easy lifting his head, but he did, and he saw Alan’s smile was gone, replaced with a look of concern. “If you need anything at all, let me know. I don’t consider you an employee. I consider you…special. A…friend.”

Gabriel stood shocked as it was Alan’s turn to duck his head, right before he rushed out of the room, only to pop his head back in and say, “I’ll have Polly bring your paperwork.”

Gabriel sat in the desk chair, stunned. It was completely possible he was reading too much into that strange exchange, but it felt as if Alan was trying to tell him something. Something akin to liking Gabriel for more than a worker, or even, like he’d said, a friend.

That was a far-reaching thought, but it didn’t feel that way.

Polly came in a few minutes later with a clipboard that held a stack of papers. “I know, we all love this part so much, but it’s your application. Don’t worry about it, though, Alan seriously hires from the interview, not the paperwork. This is mostly for records.”

“Thanks.”

“While you’re working on these, I’ll have Steve bring in your computer. It’ll take some time to update the files, so you can roam around and get used to the place while it's working. Deidre is working on some pottery in the workshop at the very end of the long hall. I think Lori’s in there today, working on some things, too. It’s amazing watching them work.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Polly was a terribly thin woman, but she didn’t look sickly or anything. Pretty, hair in soft curls around her face, she stared for a long time at Gabriel.

“Is there something else?”

She remembered herself and said, “Oh! Oh, sorry for staring. I’ve just never seen Alan so excited about hiring someone. Are you an artist?”

“Not even a little bit. I recently got my BS and BA in zoology.”

“For…like working in a zoo?”

“Well, I wanted to keep my options open. It’s competitive, and there are only so many zoos. Still, I’d also thought about traveling to Africa, South America, and Canada to work directly with wild animals, studying them, documenting, rescuing, that kind of thing.”

“Wow! That’s…that’s amazing. What the hell are you doing in Raton, New Mexico?” She asked, then bit her lips for a moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”

He was certain he’d get the question a thousand times if he didn’t answer her and let her spread the word. “My mom and her husband died a few months ago, and I am here taking care of her two youngest boys, my little brothers.”

The look. Her eyes widened, then fluttered with sadness for him, a hand covering her mouth, then moving to her chest. He’d watched the progression a million times. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. That’s terrible. Gosh, wow.”

“Thanks.”

He couldn’t get past the part about Alan being excited about hiring him. As soon as she left, he managed to keep the goofy grin from his face, but only barely.

The paperwork was nothing out of the ordinary. For experience, he was at a loss, but hopefully, it was true that Alan didn’t go by the paperwork.

After he finished, he dropped off the clipboard at the front desk, getting a sweet but sorrow-filled smile from Polly. He was used to it.

The self-guided tour of the place was eye-opening. Everyone was enjoying their work. Steve was lugging the computer into his office, smiling, and begging off when Gabriel offered to help.

Cece was busy on the phone, chatting like the person she was speaking to was an old friend, then announcing she’d found the perfect piece to go into the lobby of his offices.

He strolled to the workshop, and the moment he walked into the huge room, he smelled the clay, paint, paint thinner, and all the smells he assumed artists were accustomed to.

He went to Lori first, who was working with gray clay, turning it into a bouquet of flowers that, besides being shining gray, looked so real he could smell the sweet scent of them. “This is beautiful, Lori.”

“Thank you. I enjoy trying to emulate our Mother Earth, though I fall short, of course.”

Deidre called over, “Very short. Don’t let her fool you. She is a terrible artist!”

“Says the pothead.”

Deidre laughed as Gabriel stared from one to the other.

“Pots, get it?” Lori said, cackling.

Gabriel loved the vibe of the place. Friendships, laughter, smiling. Now, if he didn’t find out too late that he was in some weird artistic cult, he knew he’d love working there.

“I can see you two are as much a handful as my little brothers.”

“Oh, honey,” Deidre called, “Little boys have nothing on us old women.”

He left them laughing together and bumped right into Alan in the hall. It was like running into a wall, he was so solid. Gabriel stepped back and cried, “Oh! Sorry!”

Alan took Gabriel’s arms into his hands. “No, you’re fine. Finished with your tour?”

Even though they were both steady, Alan didn’t let go of him. “I think so. I was just watching them sculpt.”

His smile was so genuine, so beautiful, Gabriel had a hard time tearing his eyes from it.

Alan let go of him and said, “Let’s go check out the daycare.”

“I’d love that, sure.”

Alan led him down the long hall to a door, and when he opened it, Gabriel saw a set of stairs. “We have it down here to give them some room. We tried a room up top, but they didn’t have room to run around and play.”

As they descended, there were art pieces on the walls, except these were geared for kids. There were animals playing with big red balls and ABCs in colorful block letters. As they reached the basement, Gabriel saw toys, shelves of books, floor mats for play, and pack-and-play for the toddlers.

Two little girls were playing with dolls and looked up at them as they arrived, waving sweetly.

“Hi Andrea, hi, Sarah,” Alan said, “This is Gabriel. His brothers are going to join you later today.”

They smiled more and nodded, laughing.

A woman came over with a baby on her hip and proffered a hand to Gabriel. “I’m Eliza Sweeney. This little monster is Lars. He’s the girls’ little brother.”

“Where’s Paulie?”

“Sick today, so Dad’s taking him to the doctor.”

Alan explained to Gabriel, “These are Cece’s kids. Her husband works the oil rigs out east. He works nights, so that’s why they’re usually here.”

“I see. Well, the boys will have some friends to play with.”

“The girls are very nice and welcoming,” Eliza said.

Gabriel knew Tristan would be fine, but Brandon…

Alan waved for him to follow again, and he did. Alan led him to a short hall and set of doors. “This is storage for us. We don’t have all the artwork here, but we have a good amount. I’ll come down and show you how we have it cataloged. You’ll be responsible for getting them found, created, and sent, but don’t worry; we’ll walk you through it until you can handle it.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“How about we go get a cup of coffee.”

Gabriel was all for that. “That’d be great, thanks.”

The one place he hadn’t gone was the breakroom. It was larger than most, with couches, a wide refrigerator, an espresso machine, and a K-cup machine with a carousel filled with every flavor anyone could want.

While Alan made himself an espresso, Gabriel grabbed a caramel mocha K-cup.

“Those cups are for anyone,” he said of the mugs hanging from a wooden rack on the wall above the coffee makers. “The cleaning crew comes in nightly, so they’re all clean, I promise. You can also bring in your own cup if you’d like.”

He grabbed one and was soon enjoying his coffee after adding just a bit of sugar.

“You’re different than most around here. We go through sugars of all kinds and creamers so much that we should buy stock in them.”

“I used to put a ton of sugar in my coffee, but when I worked my way through grad school, I was too broke to buy a lot. I’d pocket packets from convenience stores,” he admitted, then tried to backtrack. “I mean…I’m not a thief or anything!”

“You think you were the only broke student barely surviving while going to school? I stole ketchup, crackers, mustard, sugar, you name it.”

They sat at one of the three tables and sipped coffee while Gabriel tried not to stare at Alan aggressively. That wasn’t easy.

“Steve is great. He’ll have your computer updated soon and then we’ll start your training, but for now, it’s nice just to get to know each other a little, right?”

Alan’s eyes were on his face and didn’t leave, which made him self-conscious. Every blink felt scrutinized, but Alan wasn’t the type to judge micromovements on a person’s face.

“Alan, okay, tell me about yourself,” he said with a little laugh.

“You didn’t Google me?”

Gabriel fell back in his chair and choked out a whining laugh. “Jesus, am I that transparent?”

“No, you’re just not stupid. Some random guy at a mall gives you a number to call and you call it sight unseen? I mean, it was Santa, but still.”

Gabriel nodded and whispered, “Santa. Yeah.” After clearing his throat, he said, “Yeah, I Googled you. I was highly impressed.”

“Really? Wow, impressed,” he said, laughing. It was acoustic music to Gabriel’s ears…

“How could I not be? A true self-made man, coming from…here! I know how hard it is to get out of small-town New Mexico. I barely did it.”

“It is, very hard. I had to spend my young years studying. I have dyslexia, so it was even harder. No one recognized it until I was in junior high school.”

“Go Tigers.”

Alan sat back and smiled, “Tigers, hell yes. I didn’t have a lot of fun in school, but the games were great. A closeted gay man’s secret fascination with other guys playing games in shorts, or tight pants,” he said laughing.

“Nice.”

Alan was so easy to talk to. They had more in common than Gabriel could have ever guessed. “I looked over your paperwork. A BA and a BS. I’m equally impressed. Did you have a job waiting for you?”

“Not really. I was inquiring, had a few interested, but then this happened, and, well, I haven’t really looked to see if their interest was real or feigned.”

“Tell me your dream job.”

It almost escaped him, the words tumbling through him, ready to be blurted out into the middle of them, and he barely caught them before they got away from him.

Instead of saying, “This job has become my dream job…because of you,” he said, “Right now, I’m good where I am. I must be, for the boys.”