His throat jammed and his eyes stung with barely held back tears, but he refused to look away.
Bruce did.
A breath shuddered out of Gabriel’s chest, and air rushed into his lungs, cooling his tears but not his anger.
You were supposed to be my friend.
Just a dream. Just a hope.
Like hoping Sofia was better.
Gabriel blinked away half-formed tears and sniffed. ‘What’s the use? Thanks for the gazebo.’ He turned back toward the house.
‘You’re right,’ Bruce said, stopping him. ‘I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I didn’t know Sofia hadn’t told you. I’m sorry for the way I behaved.’
He breathed out a long breath. ‘I think we’ve both been acting badly lately.’ He wanted to ask why Bruce couldn’t bear to look at him since he’d come back, but he was worried what the answer would be. They were talking civilly to each other; that was the first wall cleared. And even these few kind words hummed inside Gabriel’s chest. He hated how much Bruce affected him, about as much as he hated the way caffeine gave him a rush. Addicted, he wanted more. ‘I don’t want to get in your way or tell you how to do your job, Bruce. Whatever you can make work with the set designs will still be awesome.’
Bruce’s chest bulged as he huffed out air, the paint tins clanging in his hand. ‘Look, the designs Sofia came up with are great. Yes, they’re more complex than I think they need to be, but I’ll do them. I got caught off-guard yesterday. I’ve got a lot on my plate.’ His shoulders sagged like he was carrying a lot more than what he had in his hands.
‘Is everything alright, Bruce?’
He opened his mouth to answer but stopped before any words came out. He nodded instead. There was a time when he hadn’t been so guarded. A time when it was just the two of them.
‘I’d better get going,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ve got another job and then I’ll be at the theatre tonight to make a start on the sets.’
‘Okay. I guess I’ll see you around.’ Gabriel wanted to fill the void between them, but whatever words he used would plummet and smash. Bruce wasn’t ready to build a bridge. Just sets. He gave a small wave as the builder drove away. Maybe next time they met he’d summon the courage to ask Bruce why they fell apart.
He took a closer look over the completed gazebo. He needed space to breathe before going back inside the house where the reality of his mother’s illness stole his oxygen. Outside the pressure lifted and he could enjoy the life on show in her garden.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful!’
Sofia’s soft voice broke from behind him as she came out of the house in her dressing gown and slippers. He rushed over in case she needed the extra support but the joy at seeing the finished gazebo gave her strength. He hoped the paint fumes didn’t make her nauseated.
‘He’s done such a good job, hasn’t he?’ she said. ‘I can’t wait for the vines to grow.’
‘Should we go get them today?’
‘That’ll be lovely. If you’ve got the time.’
‘Mamá, what else am I going to do? I’m here for you, remember?’
‘I know, but I feel guilty that you’re not back in Sydney. Are you sure work doesn’t mind?’
‘Very sure.’ And he couldn’t have cared less if they did.
She took her time walking around the gazebo, her eyes lit with excitement as she surveyed the whole garden and how everything fitted together. The water fountain and pond in the north-west corner, the rows of cucumbers and onions, strawberries and herbs in the patch at the back, a lemon tree jammed in the other corner, a collection of native shrubs on the eastern perimeter. There was only a small patch of grass, enough that could be easily maintained without needing an entire grounds team to care for it. Even so, the garden was large enough for one. Barely a day went by when she wasn’t tending it, but the amount she could do had decreased—pruning here and there, rather than tilling the soil and planting new vegetables. He’d have done it for her but he wasn’t a good gardener and needed her direction. The theatre used up her energy so there wasn’t enough left over to give horticultural instructions.
Once her work on the show was done, and she was better, they’d turn their attention to the garden.
‘I thought we could work on the costume designs out here later,’ he said. ‘The paint should be dry by then.’
‘Is that what Bruce said?’ She took his arm and they walked through the garden.
‘He didn’t say much of anything.’
‘I remember when you two used to be so close.’
‘Times change.’
Or maybe he has.
‘I know. And back then I would have been grateful for it but now …’
‘Why back then?’
‘Well, he was so much older than you.’
‘Only twelve years. Dad was fifteen years older than you.’
‘I know. But it just felt different somehow. I’m ashamed to say it now. But I worried he was influencing you.’
He laughed, not because it was funny but because it was ridiculous. ‘I was well and truly influenced before we even came here. That was why we came here, remember?’
‘Of course I know. It’s just, it wasn’t rational or anything, and really, looking back, he would have been the best thing for you. And you for Bruce too. Far better than that awful Jason. ¡Cabrón!’
‘Mamá!’ His mother didn’t often swear but the description was apt. Gabriel had told Jason about his crush on Bruce when he was sixteen and his supposed friend deliberately set out to snag him. That had hurt a lot yet faced with the choice of losing contact with Bruce, Gabriel had decided to pretend it didn’t bother him. But he couldn’t keep the
