I didn't rush her. I just let her get it all out. What the world could have possibly happened to damage this family so. I wanted to ask so bad, but I know it was a dangerous topic. Deep down in my gut I knew it had something to do with Gabriel dad's death.
After a while she sat back drying her eyes with hands that shook.
“It feels like after all these years, God has finally forgiven me. I've been praying so much Yas. Everyday praying for a miracle and here you are!” She brought my hand to her lips kissing the back of it.
“I would love for you to call me mom! You have no idea how good that will make me feel!”
Oh boy! She was breaking me down. I could no longer hold my tears back. Gabe had done this to his mom. He was the reason she was so starved of this kind of affection. How could he live with himself knowing he was causing her so much grief?
And as his wife, I felt like it was my duty to fix it. I dried my tears.
“Let's go get a massage.” I told her, smiling at her startled look. “I was told this was a good place to start before going shopping with a black card.”
And that was the beginning of our beautiful relationship. I did the best I could to spoil Gabrielle with her son's money that day. Like Stacy, I dragged her from the spa to the salon. Where they washed, conditioned and then styled her long beautiful black curls artfully in a high bun on her head. Then we settled down for a fancy lunch. Eventually, we made it around to shopping for the kitchen.
That night after a full day out, I asked her where she lived so that Jerome could drop her off. There was no way I was letting her go back to the house to try and pick up where she had left off in her cleaning.
Her eyes widen slightly before she quickly looked down at her skirt where she began to pick away some invisible particles of lint.
“Umm, no that's okay. My car isn't too far from Gabe's place. I'll just ride back to the house with you.” Now if I thought her words and behavior were a little strange I didn't dwell on it. I didn't want to place any strain on our new relationship.
Over the next few days, she and I together managed to get the kitchen to look like it belonged in a home instead of a restaurant. I loved it! Where it had first been all silver and cold, now there were a few reds splashed in to match my coffee pot; and oranges, and browns.
I added some vases with fresh flowers. A ‘Home Is Where The Heart Is’mat for in front of the sink, and a little radio for music. Growing up I could always remember the sounds of soul coming out the kitchen along with the delicious smell of something baking in the oven. That was the best part about childhood for me. My house always smelled like pie.
I always imagined bringing up my kids the same way. Where they would be able to run free on the farm through the berry bushes and come in to have a snack in the same kitchen that my mother cooked in, and her mother before her, and so on. My heart felt heavy thinking about the possibility that will never be. The first thing I did when the farm fell into my hands—was lose it.
Now was not the time to dwell on that though. To say the least, my life was a bit of a mess. In less than a month I had become a murderer on the run, homeless, a stripper, a thief, and a wife forced into marriage. These kinds of things I had only read about in novels and seen on TV. If I wasn't actually the one experiencing this list of unfortunate events, I would never have believed it could possibly happen in real life.
Anyway, I digress. I was telling y'all how Gabe and I ended up fighting that Friday afternoon. On Thursday, Gabrielle and I went to the grocery store because I was tired of the cooks cooking. I mean, don't get me wrong, Lamb marinated in rosemary and wine sauce was alright every now and again, but eating that way every night was not for me. I needed some real food. Home cooked food—soul food.
“Do you cook?” I asked Gabrielle as we walked through the aisles of the local grocery store. She laughed shaking her head.
“No, chica. My father was a very rich man. I was raised with a cook.”
“Wow, that's amazing. I learned to cook when I was just a little girl. Hey!” My face brightened with excitement as a thought came to me.
“Why don't you stay for dinner and I’ll cook for all of us!” Her smile vanished instantly.
“You mean me, you and Gabe?”
I nodded. But she began shaking her head instantly.
“No, oh no! He would be so mad!” I frowned, letting my hurt show on my face.
“Why? You don't want to taste my cooking?” Now, I know that I was working on her guilt, but I didn't care, I wanted her to come to dinner.
“Oh yes chica I do, but Gabe…”
“Why do you always bring up Gabe? You’re my mom now, and that's my home now. Can't I invite whoever I want to dinner?” She exhaled, not wanting to hurt me.
“He's going to kill me!” She whispered. I took her hand, once again wanting to ask her what had happened between the two of them, but knowing better than
