Unveiling The Sky Page 12

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hi.”

  “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for letting me.”

  As his gaze moved across my face, he started to look nervous. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and leaned over the console to give me a quick kiss on the temple. It happened so fast I barely had time to enjoy it. But when I looked at the clock and saw his mother’s birthday fast approaching, I knew now wasn’t the time to say any more. I squeezed his hand until he opened his eyes and looked at me. I gave him a small, hopefully reassuring smile and squeezed his hand a couple more times before carefully letting go and stepping out of the car.

  When I reached the sidewalk and looked back at him, I could see the gratitude shining from his eyes, like I gave him something precious. When I turned back around and quickly walked to my apartment, I smiled at the thought.

  I wasn’t always sure I was helping myself get better, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe I didn’t need to have everything figured out. Maybe I could be important and helpful, even if I didn’t have my own problems in order. Maybe… just maybe, my depression didn’t have to matter as much as I’d always let it.

  Today was Gabe’s mother’s birthday. I stared at the ceiling, willing myself back to sleep. It was seven thirty in the morning and with no plans for the day, all I was left with were thoughts of Gabe and how perfect everything felt last night. All I wanted to do was call and talk to him, but I was weighed down with worries. Would he want to hear from me? What would I say? Had last night meant anything to him? Or had he just been upset? Unable to take any more overthinking, I shoved the covers on the ground and got out of bed.

  I took a quick shower and dressed in a simple black T-shirt and jeans before tossing my wet hair into a braid that fell over my shoulder. By eight o’clock I was out the door.

  Fifteen minutes later I opened the door to Caffeine IV about an hour earlier than usual and groaned at the long line. “Alara!” Katherine’s voice bellowed from behind the multiple coffee machines, and her head tilted in a get over here motion.

  I muttered apologies as I bypassed people in line, earning several glares and downturned mouths. When I reached Kath she was quickly scribbling instructions on an empty cup. “Sorry, hon, it’s not ready yet. I wasn’t expecting you so early. But you do start coming in earlier when fall hits, I don’t know why I forget that. It might be about ten minutes.” She grimaced as she glanced toward the waiting customers but quickly turned her body away and lowered her voice before continuing. “Oh, what am I saying? I’ll have them start it right away.” She turned back and in a louder voice said, “Hey Matty, go ahead and make—”

  “Oh, no. No hurry. Take your time,” I said with a smile.

  Kath winked as she slid the empty cup over to Matt and returned my grin. “Oh, hush.” Her eyes narrowed as they roamed over my face. “You look a little weary, honey. Is everything all right?”

  “Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just had some trouble sleeping.”

  “Okay, well, come around in the afternoon sometime so we can catch up. It’s been too long.” She patted my hand before waving off a customer who was yelling at her to hurry up. “Oh… and I can take your payment and ring this up for you later, dear.”

  “Thanks, Kath. I appreciate it. But seriously, take your time.” I handed over a five-dollar bill and headed toward the “pickup” end of the counter. I slid into an armchair by the window and watched the birds roam around the empty tables outside.

  My mind drifted to Gabe and I realized how ridiculous it was to think that any amount of distraction would help me forget him. The truth was I found reasons to be thinking about him all the time, which meant I was in trouble. I’d suspected as much since our talk by the pool, but last night… last night confirmed it. I was falling. But could I really read into anything that happened last night? He was grieving for his mother. He probably would have opened up to anybody. I just happened to be there. Right place, right time—

  “Alara.” His deep voice sounded to my right and I froze. Surely I wasn’t so crazy that I was hearing his voice whenever I thought about him. I turned, bracing myself to find no one there, but instead of disappointment and questions of my sanity, I was met with happiness and relief. The second our eyes locked, he smiled. It was filled with sorrow and lasted only a second, but at least it was a smile.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  I fidgeted, waiting for him to take the reins like normal, but he wasn’t saying a thing. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.” He gestured to the seat across from me. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Of course not. But, uh, how did you know where I was?”

  “You mentioned this place at the bar. I was hoping you weren’t exaggerating about being a caffeine junkie. Apparently luck was on my side.”

  “I never exaggerate about coffee.”

  He smiled and glanced out the window. But when he looked back his smile was gone and he wore a look of agony instead. And in that moment I realized that I must have already been in love with him a little bit, no matter how impractical it was. Because seeing him in pain was like feeling all the pain I’d ever felt all at once, only it was amplified because I was seeing it in him, someone I cared about.

  I felt the café getting busier and the noise level increasing, but the crippling silence between us was the loudest thing in the room. I cleared my throat and raised my eyebrows expectantly. “Why were you looking for me? Are you all right?”

  He remained silent, not giving anything away; there were so many emotions flying across his face they all seemed to blend into nothing. After a couple seconds he shook his head and tipped his head in the direction of the door. “I’ll meet you outside once your coffee is ready.” He didn’t look back as he got up and walked outside.

  A few minutes later Kath called my name, and I quickly said goodbye with a promise to stop by to talk the following week. I stepped outside and immediately brought my coffee-free hand up to block out the sun. After I blinked away the spots, I saw Gabe perched on a bench a couple of stores down. His coffee was on the ground between his spread-out legs, his elbows resting on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. I slowly made my way over until I was seated beside him, my coffee resting between both hands and one leg crossed over the other.

  Gabe turned to face me, giving me his dull eyes and tightly drawn mouth. He let out a shaky sigh and brought his back flush with the bench. “She had been sick for about four years, and in the beginning we hardly even noticed a difference. But the last two years were… bad. They were really bad, and so I started doing this on her birthday.”

  “Doing what?”

  He rubbed a hand over his face and laughed softly. “This is going to sound cheesy, maybe even strange, but I sort of celebrated her birthday for her. I did some of her favorite things, like ran her favorite path, went to her favorite coffee shop, she was actually really good friends with the owner. They all recognize me now”—he paused to point to what I belatedly recognized as a competitor’s cup on the ground—“and they always give me a cup of her favorite drink for free. Some foo-foo concoction that I can’t even stomach enough to drink.” He gave me a sheepish, unsure smile. “Kind of crazy, right?”

  While he was talking, a smile had started to bloom across my face as I shifted my gaze between his face and the cup on the ground. We were sitting there talking about his dead mother while his voice kept breaking, and I was smiling. But I couldn’t help it; it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  I quickly whipped my head up to his face, jostling my coffee enough for it to spill on my hands. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to… I was just thinking about how sweet that was. I didn’t mean to be insensitive or…” I trailed off as Gabe’s warm hand cupped my cheek.

  He looked contemplative for a moment as his eyes shifted between mine. “It’s okay and it wasn�
��t insensitive. It’s good to see a smile; all too often whenever I talk about my mother all people are is sad. My mother deserves smiles.” He hesitated, withdrawing his hand and looking more unsure than I’d ever seen him. “So, about why I came to see you. I don’t know if this weird, and if it is or you have plans, please feel free to say no, but would you maybe want to come with me?”

  He couldn’t be asking what I thought he was, right? That was personal and no doubt reserved for someone close to him or someone he wanted to be close to him, right? And that was not me, right? Right?

  “Come with you where?” I asked slowly, drawing out the last word in an effort to stall.

  “Well, there are a few wheres. I just meant, come with me today. Spend the day with me.” He looked so hopeful, and if the situation warranted it I would have expected him to be bouncing on the heels of his shoes with his hands making a prayer-like motion in front of his chest.

  “Are you sure? I mean, I definitely would like to. But I don’t want to intrude—”

  He held up his hand to halt my words. “No, it wouldn’t be an intrusion at all. I’ve always gone alone, and I didn’t realize it until last night, but you were right. I don’t want to be alone.”

  I didn’t want to be alone either, but still, I hesitated. Because my mind chose that moment to remind me how much he was probably going to hate me once he found out. He would give anything to have her back. She would do anything to get another chance, to come back and live her life, to be a mother to her wonderful son and daughter. But she didn’t get one. And yet, I get another chance every single day. We all do.

  We talk about second chances like they’re so rare, but we get more than second chances, we get thirds and fourths and on and on, because every day is another chance to do all the things we didn’t the day before, say all the things we couldn’t the day before, and love all the ways we were afraid to the day before.

  But there were days when I considered doing more than throwing away that single chance, days where I wanted to throw away all my chances. How would he ever understand that, given how his mother was taken from him?

  I caught a glimpse of his hand as he held it out to me and my eyes slowly rose to meet his. His eyes were bright and hopeful as he playfully wiggled his hand toward me. My smile was relieved and anxious all at once, but I knew I wasn’t walking away. I didn’t know what I was doing or if this was a bad idea, but despite all my reservations and fears, I wanted as much time with him as possible. I didn’t want to worry about whether I was helping him or he was helping me; I just wanted to enjoy what was right in front of me. So I placed my hand in his and just enjoyed the feel of his warm, rough palm against mine.

  I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked her to come with me. Obviously I had enjoyed hanging out with her, but this was entirely different. When I woke up this morning and realized how much better I’d felt when she was around, I knew I needed her with me. She was the only person I had talked to about my mom where I was still able to smile, and I meant it when I said my mom deserved smiles.

  Alara’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts, “So where’s the first stop?”

  “Breakfast. Have you eaten yet?”

  “Nope,” she said with a pop of the p. I smiled wider as we stood and headed down the street. Halfway to my car I threw my full cup of “coffee” in a trash can while still holding Alara’s hand.

  “Where’d you park?” I asked.

  “I walked here.”

  I squeezed her hand. “And you promise you’re free today? I’m not keeping you?”

  “I promise.” She stared at me intently until I nodded, and then we continued down the street in silence. When we reached my car, I held her door open and reluctantly let go of her hand as she slid in. Ten minutes later we were pulling up in front of my mom’s favorite breakfast place, Maude’s.

  “Gabe!” I heard the shriek as soon as we cleared the front door. A stout, gray-haired woman came wobbling out from behind the counter with a wide grin framed by matching dimples. Bending over, I wrapped her in a hug and rocked her side to side. She quickly pulled back and her hands immediately grabbed my face. With two soft pinches she gave me a kiss on the lips and pulled me in for another hug. “How are you, dear?”

  “I’m good, Maude. How ‘bout you?” I answered while patting her back a few times.

  “I woke up. And when you’re my age, every day you wake up is a good day.” She winked before looking over my shoulder, and if possible her smile got even wider. “And who’s this beauty?” Maude quickly shoved me aside, forcing a laugh from me, and swept Alara into a hug. Alara’s arms were limp at her side and her wide eyes met mine, but after a few stunned seconds she slowly relaxed and returned the hug.

  “Maude, this is Alara. Alara, this is the owner, Maude.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you, sweetie. Is this your first time in?”

  She cleared her throat and twisted her hands. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am? She calls me ma’am,” Maude exclaimed as she wrapped one arm around my waist. “You keep this one, Gabe. Unfortunately, manners are exceedingly rare nowadays.” Her voice had lowered but if Alara’s blush was any indication, she still heard.

  “Maude!” a voice yelled. “The dishwasher is on the fritz again.”

  “Well there’s never a dull moment. You two can pick any seat you want, I’ll be out in a sec.” With one last wink, she scurried off to the kitchen.

  “Wow,” Alara said quietly. I laughed and threw my arm around her shoulder to steer her toward a clean table in the back. She stiffened for only a second before relaxing into my hold. We reached the table and slid into the booth across from each other.

  “So how’d all this start?” she asked as she waved her hand around.

  “The concept of a restaurant? Huh… I’m not really sure, I’d imagine—”

  I cut myself off when I felt Alara’s foot connect with my shin under the table. “While I always appreciate good sarcasm. That’s not what I meant.” She gave me a look like she knew exactly what I was doing. I let out a deep breath before speaking again.

  “Like I said, it started two years before she passed. Her birthday came and she was too tired and sick to doing anything. She said all she wanted to do was lie around the house and watch movies or play games. So we did, but she fell asleep a little after noon and her naps were always at least three hours long, so I knew I had time. At first I just planned to come here and get some oatmeal—it was always her favorite when she had a cold. I didn’t even know if she would be able to eat it, but…”

  “It’s the thought that counts.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “But then I was out and I passed a few of her favorite places and I just started taking pictures. A couple hours later I had a hundred pictures, a melted cup of whatever whipped thing she got, cold oatmeal, and other random things. When I got home she had just woken up and her and Sam were playing some board game. We spent the rest of the night talking about my day. She would tell us stories and talk about all the things she wanted to do the next time she went back.” I stopped as I choked out the last word.

  “But she never went back,” Alara said softly.

  I stared at her hard, trying to keep my eyes from tearing. “No, she never went back.”

  She worried her lip as her eyes returned to her menu. Maude returned a few minutes later and took our orders before running to the front to tend to a large group.

  “Gabe?”

  “Yeah?” I asked and looked up to see her twisting and ripping her napkin into tiny pieces.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “’Course.”

  She cleared her throat before smoothing out the scraps in front of her. “Why are you working at the bar? I mean not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just remember you telling me about being in school and… well, do you not feel ready to get back to your old life? Is this all just… temporary?” Her eyes clouded as she said the last word.

  I ra
n my hand through my hair and gripped the back of my neck.

  “I’m sorry. If that’s too personal you don’t have to answer—”

  “No, it’s not that.” I shook my head and leaned my elbows on the table so I was closer to her. “It doesn’t feel like my life anymore, it almost feels like a dream, actually. I did all that stuff just because I was told to. I never loved it, but I didn’t hate it either, and I guess I just never realized the difference.”

  “You know, they say you’re not supposed to make big life changes after you’ve suffered a loss.” She was saying all the things Miranda and my dad had said to me, but it wasn’t pissing me off. Actually, it was doing quite the opposite. It sent relief through me, because I was pretty sure the only reason Alara was so pushy was because she wanted to know she wasn’t temporary. She wanted to know she could have me in her life.

  I nodded before leaning back and stretching my legs under the table, lightly bumping hers. “Yeah, I know. But that’s not what this is. Maybe when I first left it was, but now… almost a year later, I still don’t feel like I made a mistake. I still feel like I’d be sleepwalking through my life, and I can’t do that anymore. Not when my mother was so passionate about life, not when all she ever wanted was for me to be happy. Not just settled, but happy. It’s kind of like you and your chemistry degree—you’re not really sure where it will take you, but right now it’s making you happy and that’s all that matters, yeah?”

  Her green eyes lit with understanding as she whispered, “Yeah.”

  “And right now the bar is making me happy. I don’t really need anything else; I’ll take things one day at a time.”

  She cleared her throat, looking nervous once again. “Can I ask a follow-up question?”

  I grinned. “You can ask me anything, Alara.”

  “Is Miranda included in this philosophy? Of not going back to what didn’t make you truly happy?”

  “Yeah. She was one of my best friends growing up, but we grew up differently. I never really noticed because I let my thoughts fall in line with my father’s, and so she never realized there was this huge gap between us. But once my mom got sick nothing was the same. She got sick and it was like a switch turned on inside me. There was no gradual realization that that life wasn’t the one I wanted. It was instantaneous, and so all I could do was pretend while she was still alive. But it got harder to pretend. And when we buried her, I knew my time was running out. I knew that the second I was done grieving and I had adjusted to a world without her, I would be forced to face the rut I had let myself fall into. And honestly I wasn’t prepared for that; I wasn’t prepared to be thrust into a life that had no plan or direction. I was still living in my father’s world, where having no plan was unthinkable.”