8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“Gabe. Gabe? Gaaaabe! ”

Gabriel shot awake and looked around, seeing Tristan sitting peacefully on the coffee table, swinging his legs.

“Tristan? What the heck?”

“Bad word!”

“Heck is not…never mind. What’s wrong?”

“Time fer school.”

Gabriel looked around and saw it was daytime and he grabbed his phone beside Tristan to see the time. It was only six thirty, but he had forgotten to set his alarm. “Okay, buddy, not quite, but it is time to get up.”

He got off the couch and grabbed Tristan into his arms, carrying him to the kitchen. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. I dreamed about dinos. They were eating the bad guys.”

“What bad guys, Tristan?”

“The ones that hurt Mama.”

Gabriel sat Tristan on the counter in the kitchen and set his hands on either side of him. “What? Honey, no one hurt Mama. It was a car accident.”

“But whoooo made them accident?”

Here, he’d been so worried about Brandon, and Tristan always seemed so chill that he hadn’t thought that Tristan might need to talk more about it. “You know what, buddy, I don’t know. The police don’t know. They skidded on some gravel and went off a steep incline. It wasn’t their fault. It just happened. It was nobody’s fault.”

Tristan’s head lowered and he confessed in a breathy whisper, “I miss Mama and Daddy.”

Gabriel picked him off the counter and held him tight. “Sweetheart, I do, too. I do a lot.”

Tristan cried quietly on his shoulder, and he let a few tears fall too. He took Tristan to his room and set him on his dino sheets. “You know what? Why don’t we write Mama and your dad a letter tonight, and we’ll put it on the Christmas tree? We’ll tell them all about the things we’re doing and how much we miss them and tell them how much we love them.”

“Will Santa give it to ‘em?”

“I bet he will. So, let’s get you dressed and ready for school.”

As he grabbed Tristan’s favorite dino shirt from the drawer, he turned to see Brandon standing there, sullen.

“You okay, Brandon?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Get ready to go to daycare, okay, buddy?”

“Sure,” he said as he turned and returned to his room.

After giving the boys scrambled eggs and toast, Gabriel left them to head upstairs. He stood in the hall, staring at his mother’s bedroom door.

Inside the room were her things. They hadn’t gotten rid of anything. He thought it would hurt too badly, and they weren’t ready, but it was a specter in the house. The room, their clothes, their smells, their hairbrushes with strands of their hair.

His mother had brushed her hair every night while sitting on her bed, talking to him. It was dark and shiny, and sometimes, she’d take some and tickle his nose with it.

Stepping to the door, Gabriel wrapped his hand around the brass knob, turning it slowly, hearing the click, feeling the ease at which it opened. Immediately, he smelled lilacs, his mother’s favorite scented candles.

His eyes slid shut as he remembered her lighting them, the flame in her eyes as she breathed in the scent and smiled.

“ Gaaaabe! ”

For once, that scream felt like he was saved from a terrible torture. “Coming!”

After dropping Tristan at school, Brandon asked about the daycare. “Are there even kids my age there that will be there all day?”

“I’m not sure if they’ll be there all day, Brandon. If not, you can do the work your teacher sent home with you, then play by yourself until more kids come. I wish I had another choice, Brandon. I know you’re not used to it there, but I don’t have a choice this time.”

“It’s fine. I’m just…”

“Mad? At yourself, maybe?”

Brandon kicked the back of his seat in answer, and though he didn’t voice it, Gabriel was pretty sure the answer was yes.

He took Brandon down to the basement and was happy to see Cece’s kids were all there. Gabriel knelt and placed his hand on Brandon’s chest. “Remember, no hitting, no being mean. This is my work, and we want me to keep this job, right?”

“Right,” he said rather miserably.

“We already have twenty-two dollars for the drone.”

Brandon’s brows drew hard. “It hasn’t been two weeks.”

“I’m glad your math’s getting better. I got a jump on the savings. Sue me.”

Brandon’s smile never came easily unless he was getting into trouble. When it was for a good reason and was genuine, Gabriel knew he’d never see one as beautiful anywhere in the world. “Thanks, Gabriel.”

“You’re welcome, little brother. I’ll come down later and hang out with you some.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a baby like Tristan.”

“Right. Well, I might anyway, to see my brother because I want to.”

“Fine,” he groaned and rolled his eyes.

He was back. It was almost comforting to see Brandon’s annoyance.

In the office, Steve brought him three more clients. None of them wanted landscapes, so he was venturing into new territory.

One of the clients wanted two portraits for a new home he’d purchased in Vermont. The card on him, which they called their files, said he’d purchased from Alan’s group before, and he liked the service so much that he wanted more.

He had luxury tastes and wanted the paintings to be lifelike but ethereal. Alan came in, chewing his cheek about it, looking through portraits. “Alan, hey.”

“I heard you got a tough one.”

“Aren’t all of them for someone that wouldn’t know my five-year-old brother’s finger paintings from what is referred to here as abstract art?”

Alan pulled a chair up to the corner of the computer desk. “Let’s see what he wants.”

“Lifelike yet ethereal.”

Alan laughed a little and said, “Okay, that sounds more complicated than it is. Haven’t you ever seen someone walking in a breeze, their clothes and hair blowing behind them, and it felt like you were walking through a world that wasn’t…here?”

Gabriel watched him speaking, watched his mouth forming the words, and then, as those words moved into him, he saw what Alan wanted him to imagine.

He saw Alan, walking with a white cardigan that wasn’t buttoned. A strong breeze blew behind him, and he slowed his gait, enjoying the breeze so much that he smiled.

“Yeah, I can picture that.”

“That is ethereal life, Gabriel.”

When Alan explained things, it stuck with him. “Okay, so something that is like it’s walking out of the picture but can still be the focus of someone’s dreams.”

“That’s a beautiful way to put it,” Alan said, then he bit his bottom lip and stared into Gabriel’s eyes for a long time. If Gabriel wasn’t crazy, he felt Alan might feel something for him besides employee and employer. But he likely was crazy. “I’m, uh, glad you feel better today.”

“Thanks to you.”

“I’m just a good listener, and I’m nosy.”

They laughed, and Alan nodded toward the computer screen. “Get to work.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alan left him, and he suddenly found his breath again. Alan took it from him every time.

With his new vision, he looked through pages and pages of paintings, stopping a few times to immerse himself in the art. The more he saw, the more he appreciated the toil of making a blank canvas into something lovely, something riveting, or something that made him want to daydream.

He came across a painting of a woman in a long white dressing gown, sheer enough to see through to her nudity. Every light and shadow of her was so real that he felt as if he could hear the breeze that blew at her silky clothing and smell the sweet perfume she wore as she wished for a lover who was just out of the frame of the picture and possibly the frame of her life.

Serenity was one way to see her face as she gazed off in the distance, but Gabriel saw something more, deeper. She was longing for someone. She might have known him, but Gabriel thought she hadn’t found him yet. He was always just barely out of the frame of her life.

Or she. Maybe she had a hundred male suitors, but she only wanted that one woman to make her dreams come true.

“Yeah. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” he asked the woman.

He saw the artist’s name on the painting and wrote it down in his notes, along with the piece's number, before he went through more of the portraits.

After he’d chosen another that he thought might fit, he went through the artist’s paintings and found another three. Each of them had a woman with longing in her eyes. Suddenly, he felt uplifted by the fact that someone else knew that feeling, the same one he felt he’d been carrying for most of his adult life. The longing for someone.

Either that, or he was placing his own needs on the paintings.

The thing was, the women in the paintings might not know for whom they longed, but he did at long last. He longed for the man who had just left the office—the one who smelled of sandalwood soap—the one with the dark eyes that held him captive in all the most beautiful ways.

When Steve returned to check on him, he handed over his recommendations. Steve left with a look that could only mean he thought Gabriel was crazy but was back in Gabriel’s office in less than ten minutes. “We’re sending them. All of them.”

“Really?”

“Perfect for what he wanted, all except that first one, The Waiting Woman. It’s a little bigger than he requested, but we’re sending it anyway.”

“I admit I didn’t even look at the size of that one.”

“It’s only a few inches bigger, so we’re sending it, and if he likes it, maybe he’ll find room for it. It’s happened before.”

Feeling like he’d accomplished a lot, he took a break and went to the basement to check on Brandon, finding him bent over his homework. “Hey, Brandon, I thought you’d be done already.”

“I played first, okay? God!”

His snapping like that told Gabriel he was having difficulty, and he saw it was math. Brandon had a hard time with math. “Want some help?”

The answer came as a shrug, and Gabriel knew that move. He’d done it the entire time he was a kid. “Okay, Brandon, let’s run up, and we’ll order some lunch. We’ll go over this in my office.”

“You’re letting me go up there?”

“Well, yeah! It’s not off limits.”

The girls were quietly playing in the corner with some dolls, and the little boy was napping on one of the cots. Gabriel had Brandon follow him, and he started scrolling through the food delivery app. “I can’t believe I forgot to pack us lunch.”

“We were in a rush this morning.”

Gabriel was again shocked, but he didn’t show it. “True. Okay, what shall it be?”

“I’m almost tired of pizza.”

“You? Are you sick?”

He smiled a little and said, “Tacos?”

“Damn, that sounds good. Okay, the good ones from Aunt Rita’s?”

“Duh.”

Laughing, he ordered two tacos each, a diet soda for himself, and a small orange soda for Brandon. “Chips?”

Brandon nodded but added, “Not the hot salsa.”

“Wimp.”

Brandon laughed and pushed him. “Shut up!”

Alan stuck his head in, laughing. “Am I missing a party?”

“No,” Gabriel said, “But I do owe you lunch. Want something from Aunt Rita’s?

Alan came in, salivating. “I normally wouldn’t, but you said the magic words. I love that place.”

Gabriel snuck a peek at Brandon, who wasn’t staring daggers at Alan. In fact, he was staring at the phone. “Fried ice cream!”

He shouldn’t, but he didn’t think spoiling Brandon would hurt much. “Okay, okay.”

“Me too,” Alan said. “I’ll diet tomorrow.”

“You’re kinda skinny. Why do you need to diet?”

Gabriel held his breath. Brandon was too blunt at times. In fact, Gabriel had been the same way until he learned how to be more tactful.

He should have known Alan could hold his own. “Maybe because I’m only kinda skinny,” he countered, laughing.

“Okay, but make sure his soda is diet, too,” Brandon said.

Alan laughed and told Gabriel, “Please. It’s almost Christmas. I can almost smell the cookies baking, and I want to eat some of them.”

In Gabriel’s eyes, Alan was perfect, but that was likely because he had a huge crush on him. No, he was really that gorgeous.

“God, Gabriel, stop drooling over Alan and order the food.”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped and the entire world stopped as those words hung in the air. Gabriel had the distinct desire to slide off his chair and take up permanent residence under the desk.

But then…Alan made it better. “Can you blame him? I’m pretty.”

Brandon actually laughed. “You’re not a girl!”

“Only girls can be pretty?”

“Yeah! Boys are handsome.”

“Oh. Okay, then, I’m handsome.”

Snorting a laugh, Brandon argued, “No, you’re not.”

“How dare you, sir! Just for that, I’m eating your ice cream!”

“Not a chance!”

Gabriel watched them like he was on the bleachers at a tennis match. Pretty soon, Alan had Brandon rolling on the floor, and all Gabriel could do was stare in awe. Brandon had barely cracked a smile in months, and there he was, rolling around, holding his gut as he wheezed for breath from laughing.

Alan leaned in, whispering, “I like this kid.”

“Yeah. He’s okay,” Gabriel answered, and for the first time, he believed it. Brandon was going to be okay.

Alan left them alone when the food came, complaining he had work, but Gabriel knew he bowed out to give the two time to themselves.

As they ate, Gabriel helped him with his work. He hated math, too, and had had to take remedial classes in college before taking those required for his degrees. But by taking so many classes and getting a couple of friends to help tutor him, he’d gotten through. He found it much easier to help Brandon. “Division was a pain for me, too. My worksheets had so much mess on them, my teacher started making me work out the problems on a separate piece of paper, and I had to hand them both in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was hard for me too, Brandon. If we can find a tutor, would you be okay with that?”

“As long as I don’t have to be in the dummy class.”

Gabriel growled, “Brandon, having difficulty learning doesn’t make anyone a dummy. We’re not, and we have a hard time with math.”

“Fine, but I still don’t want to be in one! Everyone makes fun of the kids in there.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to your teacher and see what we can do, but that’s if we can’t figure this out on our own first. I think we can because, well, we’re not dummies, right?”

“Whatever, Gabriel, God.”

Whatever in Brandon-speak meant, thank you, big brother, I appreciate your humor and your help. When I’m older, I’ll buy you a Lamborghini .

“You’re so very welcome, Brandon. I’d like my Lamborghini in a nice cherry red.”

“What? Are you losing your marbles?”

“They’ve been gone a long time.”