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“Gabrielle?”
“I’m fine, really. No worries.”
“Where did you go? I wanted to introduce you to Ethan’s cousin, but that obviously never happened.” She sounded slightly annoyed with me.
“I got…distracted, and then—then that alarm went off and I had to get out just like everyone else. Neil saw me and knew I’d made it out safely. And once we were outside the building there was nothing to do but stand around, so I grabbed the first cab I could and went home. I just wanted a shower and my bed. It was a weird night.”
“You’re so right about that.”
“Benny called, too. He saw it on the news and was worried about us. I talked to him for a long time. Really, Bree, I am fine,” I stressed, hoping she bought my story.
“Okay…if you say so.” She didn’t sound very convinced.
“I do want to meet Ethan’s cousin with the old paintings someday, though. Maybe you can arrange it,” I said by way of a peace offering.
“Yeah, maybe. Listen, I gotta go, Gab. Someone is here. I’ll talk to you later and I’ll see what I can do about sending a pic of the Mallerton. Love ya.”
“Love ya back.”
I powered off my phone after I said goodbye to Brynne. I needed to.
It was time for some serious introspection of my life. I couldn’t afford to allow myself to go off on an emotional bender right now. I had school and work to occupy my time, and as for family, well, there was plenty to focus on there, too.
My sister Danielle still lived in Santa Barbara and went to school there despite our dad wanting her to come live in London like I had done. I wished she would, too. I worried about her there without us because I suspected she wasn’t telling me everything that was going on. I had nobody I could really reach out to for accurate information, either. Our mom, Jillian, had lived in Santa Barbara with her husband, a man I refused to acknowledge as my step-father, until her sudden death three years ago. A man who wanted to get his claws into my sister and me, just as he had done to our mother. Garrick Chamberlain was no father of mine, and I didn’t trust him further than I could throw him. Which was not at all.
But he was the father of my nineteen-year-old brother, Blake.
If I called him to ask about Dani or Blake, he’d just guilt me into a tailspin for leaving and living in London when I should be home in the US where I belonged with my family. It wasn’t the true reason he wanted me home, but it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t allow Garrick to influence me, ever. Or at least I gave it my very best shot not to let him into my orbit.
My mother and father were married for only three years. They met at a Peter Gabriel concert when she’d lived in London with her diplomat parents who’d been assigned to the embassy there. They’d fallen into a passionate romance, which I suspect was something from which neither of them ever fully recovered. I was born when she was just nineteen, and I’m sure only because she never told her parents she was pregnant until it was too late for an abortion.
My grandparents may not have been able to stop me from being born, but they made sure my mom and dad never got the chance to make a life together. My grandmother swept my mom and me back to Santa Barbara and out of my dad’s influence until the marriage quietly ended. She was pregnant with my sister when she left England. Dani and I probably would never have had a chance to really know our dad if my grandparents hadn’t been killed in a car accident when I was six. My dad started enforcing his visitation after they were gone, and we began spending our school holidays in London with him. When we were little, his mother, my Granny Anne, helped him with us when we came to England to stay. I’ve always imagined how remarkable it was for my dad to have gone above and beyond in being a parent to two tiny girls when it must have been so scary for him trying to do it all alone, and while living on another continent to boot.
The death of my mother’s parents was the catalyst that changed our lives and set the path, though. My mother inherited their money, property, everything. That new-found wealth attracted the interest of a small-time Hollywood producer, Garrick Chamberlain.
I felt a stab of pain right in the gut and tried not to bring up the wretched past again. I told myself not to give into weakness, and not to allow the mistakes I’d made rule me. You’re stronger than that, Gabrielle. You make your choices and you control your own future now.
Easier said than done.
I sighed instead and reached for the card propped on my nightstand. I’d received it three years ago, only a week before she passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. I ran my fingers over the front image of a beach at sunset on the beautiful handmade paper. My mom had done sweet things like that out of the blue. Sent me a card just to tell me she was thinking about me and how much she loved me.
I brought it up to my nose to sniff the paper. It still carried the scent of jasmine and sea grass. My mom had always loved to buy unconventional things like scented greeting cards and artsy trinkets. She’d sent me a wire bracelet with a painter’s palette and paintbrush charm along with the card, too. The bracelet was lovely but, of course, it was her words that will always mean the most to me. I reached for my glasses so I could read it again.
Darling,
I know you’re deep into your studies right now and just wanted you to receive some love and encouragement from me. I miss you all the time but I know you are doing so many amazing things over in London and in school. Your father does send updates when he can, so I know you’ve been through some hard exams recently. If you get any time, I hope you’ll consider a visit. I so want to get you in my arms again and I know Dani and Blake do, too. I don’t think I would let go of you for at least a day. Gaby, I know you feel guilt for things that happened in the past, but you shouldn’t, my darling. You are a beautiful and remarkable young woman who did nothing more than countless other women have done since time immemorial. You know I believe there isn’t anything that can’t be overcome with determination and maybe some time. I would love to see you for any length of time you could spare. Just say the word and I’ll see that tickets are arranged for you. If you can’t, I understand, and will simply continue to love you from home. When I take a stroll on the beach at dusk I think of you and the wonderful talks we used to have, just the two of us discussing the mysteries of the universe. I know I would miss you whether you were in London or Los Angeles. Distance is just a number after all.
I’m so grateful you have your father there to look out for you.
Love you always and forever,
Mom
For the millionth time, I tried not to read more into the letter than was there. That she’d wanted me to come home for a visit was apparent. But, was the reason more to do with her illness than just a longing to see her child? This was my worry and I knew I’d never know the answer. I’d called her and we’d talked for a long time after I’d received the card. She’d assured me she was just feeling lonely for me when she wrote it, and to please not worry.
That had been hard to do, though.
Of course I’d worried. My mom had been sick with a chronic illness that had the potential to kill her, and married to a man who probably didn’t mind if it did.
