‘It’s not what was on the designs though.’
‘Gabriel, I know, but Sofia and I do this a lot. She understands, she’d change things as we needed, it’s just harder with her not being here. Ordinarily she’d be working on these with us but …’
They weren’t really Sofia’s designs. They were his. And if that’s how they did things then that’s how they did things, but he’d put so much work into them that to see them changed so arbitrarily was a sucker punch. A brooch? How could they see that in the back row? He hid his fists behind his back.
‘Let me show you Ron’s suit.’
She took him to another rack where they pulled out Ron’s outfit, a standard tuxedo with tails. That was it? It was wrong. Dead wrong. It was meant to be a white dinner jacket with a green pattern that gave the illusion of grass, a harking back to Brachen and its dairy farms. What she showed him could have been pulled out of a shop on Main Street.
‘Now, I know it’s not exactly what Sofia wanted,’ Angela said.
‘It’s nothing like what Sofia wanted.’ Nails dug into his palms and his fists had slipped down to beside his body.
Bruce placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.
Angela’s eyes flicked from Bruce to him and her fingers played with the necklace hanging on her chest. ‘Gabriel, the problem is we just don’t have the time.’
‘Everyone keeps saying that but considering how much Mum has put into this theatre over the years I would have thought that it would be the least anyone could do.’
‘Gabe, come on,’ Bruce said. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not okay. This is not what we agreed to.’
Angela brought her hands together in front of her body and interlocked her fingers. ‘I understand you’re upset with everything that’s going on with your mother, and believe me, Gabe, I would love to do what she suggested, but I’m certain we can deliver Sofia’s vision by being more efficient with our time. We’re all raw about the theatre possibly closing, and your mother’s illness, and we want this to be the best it can but we have to focus our efforts.’
What did it matter if they made some changes? That was their right and it was just some community theatre. But if they weren’t making the costumes that he’d designed, then he’d gotten it wrong. He was meant to help Sofia finish at Rivervue with a success, but instead he’d failed her yet again.
‘Do you mind if I talk to Mum about it first?’ he said softly, chips of ice in his voice.
‘Of course. Better yet, how about I come by on Friday and show her? It’ll give you a break.’
‘I don’t need a break!’
She started back. ‘Gabriel, I know this is a tough time for you, and we’re all gutted about Sofia, but—’
Blood rushed his ears but it wouldn’t be enough to deafen him to her excuses. ‘She’s fine. She’s going to be fine. She just doesn’t need this stress.’
‘I understand. But I’ll come by anyway and if you’re there, great, if not, that’s fine too. You can’t look after anyone if you’re not looking after yourself. Sofia wouldn’t want you to be upset. Okay?’
He swallowed the rage and hurt. He wanted to tell them all to go to hell with their designs and their decisions and their damn theatre. The sooner it got turned into apartments, the better, then maybe his mother wouldn’t be so ill.
‘Fine. See you Friday.’ He hurried out of wardrobe, shame dogging his heels.
Bruce chased after him. ‘Gabe, stop.’
He spun. ‘I can’t do this now, Bruce. I need to get back to Mum.’
‘Don’t use her as an excuse.’
Bruce’s accusation stopped him so fast he juddered. ‘What? I’m not.’
Bruce took his hand. ‘Take a deep breath. You’re upset. Going home like this won’t help your mum.’
‘At least there I can’t make things worse.’ All that work he’d done and it wasn’t what they wanted at all. He’d made Sofia look a fool.
‘You’re doing fine. Everyone understands.’
‘I don’t want understanding. I just want them to do what Mum came up with.’
‘I know. But they have to do what they think is right for the production. Sofia will understand.’
Understand that this was yet another thing she’d sacrificed for him. Another piece of herself lost to poisoned touch.
‘I’m scared, Bruce. What if she doesn’t get better? This week’s been awful, and I keep thinking that we’ll get through it and she’ll get out the other side and be healthy again, but I don’t think it’s happening. She won’t let me into the oncologist’s appointment with her. She won’t tell me what’s going on. I wouldn’t have known she was sick if you hadn’t called me.’
Somewhere in that outpouring, Bruce’s arms had folded around him and stopped the tears from breaking free. ‘Shhhh, it’s okay. Just take a breath.’
He didn’t want to because that would mean letting Bruce in even more and he couldn’t relax. If he let the truth slip out, he’d lose Bruce and right now he was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He shouldn’t have kissed him. They could have stayed friends and that would have been easier.
Bruce kissed him and smoothed back his hair. He melted under Bruce’s affection.
‘How about you take tomorrow night off as well? Come to mine for dinner. We can sit on the verandah and watch the stars and it can be like it used to be.’
That sounded so good. But could he do it? Didn’t Mum need him? But she had continuously told him he needed to get out of the house more often. She said she had friends she could call on, and it would only be for a few hours.
‘Only if it’s alright with Mum.’
‘I’m sure she’ll agree.’ Bruce kissed him again and silenced his worries. If only it could last forever.
‘Oi! Bruce!’ Sam shouted.
Bruce groaned and broke the kiss.
