Chapter 10

Gabe was horrified at first, then amused, then philosophical. Apparently, Misty wasn’t pining over him at all. It was nice to be mistaken for a stripper, he thought, until… Wait a minute. Misty hired a stripper? For what?

He almost turned around and marched back to her house, but he got ahold of himself. Shit. He had no right. He was trying to squash a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, and acting like a caveman wouldn’t exactly accomplish that. He needed to talk to someone. Not one of his firefighter buddies. He’d never hear the end of it.

His real brothers might understand—or not. Luca was too young. It was Saturday night, so Noah and Dante were out playing wingman for each other. Jayce… Well, as much as he respected his older brother, he’d find it funny as hell.

Maybe Miguel. Crap. Miguel was so serious and had been married so long, he probably had less experience with this than Luca had. That left Ryan, who was in Ireland. Was it worth an international phone call?

Gabe kicked at the ice patches on the sidewalk and decided he’d figure out what to do by himself. He usually did.

Stopping at a busy coffee shop, he made his way inside and got in line. When his turn finally came, he ordered something a little more decadent than usual. A giant chocolate chip cookie and coffee with a double shot of espresso, instead of just the usual cup of joe.

When he’d paid for it and joined those loitering at the other end of the counter, waiting to pick up their orders, he was surprised to find a familiar face.

“Sandra?”

“Gabe! How are you doing?”

His sister-in-law was the last person he’d expect to see out in the world. Wasn’t she attached to his brother’s hip? He glanced around the store, then out the windows. “Where’s Miguel?”

She laughed. “We aren’t together every minute, you know. I’m taking a class.”

“A class?” he repeated.

She chuckled. “Yes. An art class.”

“I didn’t know you were into art.”

At that moment, Sandra’s name was called, and she picked up her frothy drink. He watched her put a packet of sugar substitute in and grab the top. When she came back, his name was called.

“Would you mind waiting a minute?” he asked.

“Sure. My class is over. I was just getting this for the ride home.”

Gabe nodded and went to grab his coffee and the bag that held his cookie. He added a generous amount of milk and sugar then returned.

“Do you want to get a table? Or take a walk?” he asked.

She looked around and saw all the tables were full. “We could take a walk or sit in my car. Whatever you feel like doing.”

“I’ll walk you to your car. How’s that?”

“It’s only down the street. And to be honest”—she tipped her head so she could glance up at him as he held the door open for her—“you look like you need to talk.”

He created a column of fog with his long exhale. “Is it that obvious?”

“You looked pretty preoccupied when you walked in.” She turned toward the city lights and wandered in that direction. He caught up and walked beside her.

“You always were the perceptive one.”

“So, what’s going on?” she asked.

“It’s Misty.”

“Oh dear. Girl trouble?”

“Huh? Oh, ah… We’re just friends. She’s not doing so well. Having trouble with balance, vision, walking, and forget dancing.”

“Oh no! Poor thing. I remember her as a little girl dancing up and down the street in front of your house. Miguel and I would have to dodge her sometimes to get inside.”

Gabe smiled. “Yup, that was her. Always dancing. Now, I guess she might not be able to.”

“Dear Lord. What a disaster. Is she okay? She must be devastated.”

Gabe frowned. “Yeah, I would’ve thought so. But I just went to her house, and she was having a party. Some of her friends thought I was a stripper and practically tried to tear my clothes off.”

Sandra giggled and slapped her hand over her mouth. She glanced up at him and giggled some more. Eventually, tears leaked out the sides of her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Hilarious.”

“I’m sorry, Gabe. It’s just that, knowing you…”

She wasn’t going to finish that thought, apparently, but he couldn’t help being curious. “What?”

“Well, you know…”

“No, I don’t. What aren’t you telling me?”

She let out a long sigh. “Gabe, you’re almost as serious as Miguel. And that’s not a bad thing. Not at all. It means you care. You’ll take a minute to think things through and keep your comments to yourself, if you don’t think they’re helpful. That’s a good thing.”

He stared at her. He’d never thought he had much in common with Miguel. Miguel was so quiet, nobody really knew what he was thinking. Everyone was too busy joking and laughing and trying to one-up each other.

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “But still waters run deep. If I were facing something difficult, I’d much rather have you or Miguel by my side than anyone else in your family.”

Gabe realized his mother had said something similar to him. But she had used the word sensitive. That’s probably why he’d dismissed it. He didn’t mind taking a minute to think things through, and yes, he cared. Sometimes he cared too much.

“Maybe you can help me figure this out. I want to be there for Misty, but I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

Sandra looked at the stars and let out a snort. “You guys.” She shook her head. “What do you think will happen if you give a girl a hug when she needs one? Do you think she’ll plan the wedding? Honestly, I don’t know what you’re so afraid of.”

“You mean, she won’t?” He was only half joking. “I know. I know. It doesn’t make sense. But neither does her having a party right now.”

Sandra sighed. “She probably needs to blow off steam and have some fun. Are you hurt that you weren’t invited?”

“Ha. Not at all. I don’t think I would have fit in. It was all girls, and they were pretty giddy. I was just glad to get out of there in one piece.”

“So, why were you there in the first place?”

“I was just going to check on her. She had a couple of appointments during the week, and I wanted to know how they went.”

“You didn’t call her?”

Gabe shrugged. “I’m not very good on the phone.”

Sandra stopped and folded her arms. She gazed at him for a few moments before speaking. “Gabriel Fierro, I think you’re lying to yourself. Not that you aren’t good on the phone—I believe that. Miguel isn’t either. But you could have just asked ‘how did it go?’ That’s what most people would do.”

He shrugged.

“You know, I work at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’m in OB-GYN, but if she ever needs support and you’re…being you, tell her to call me there.”

“Hey! I’m not that heartless.”

She let her hands drop to her sides and smiled softly. “I know. I’ve known you since you were thirteen. Misty was about ten. She’d say, ‘Hey, Gabe. Look!’ and cartwheel down the sidewalk. She didn’t call to Parker, or Miguel, or even me. And you didn’t ignore her. You watched and gave her a thumbs-up.

“I think you want to give her that hug. Maybe you need a hug yourself. Gabe, you love the girl. You may not want to admit it, but that’s what I see when you look at her or talk about her. And I don’t blame you. She’s a kind, sweet, beautiful girl. And she needs you. If you let her down, you’ll hate yourself.”

How could his sister-in-law know all that? He didn’t even know it himself. But it rang true. Everything she said.

“I…uh…”

She held up her hand. “You don’t need to say anything. Just think it over. My car is right here.” She pointed to the dark-blue Toyota they stood beside.

“Oh. Well, I guess it’s time to go home. Thanks for talking to me.”

Sandra pulled him into a hug and didn’t let go. Eventually, he relaxed and hugged her back.

“See? I hugged you for a long time, and I don’t want anything from you. It’s okay. You can hug her, and she won’t plan a wedding.” Sandra hit the unlock button on her key fob and opened her car door. “Unless you want her to.” She closed the door, winked, and waved as she drove away.

* * *

Misty’s party didn’t break up until after midnight, so she wasn’t surprised when she woke to the sting of the fully risen sun. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The evening came flooding back, especially the part where Gabe made a quick appearance and disappeared like a magician in a cloud of panic.

Her friends apologized and giggled and wanted to run after him, but thank goodness, she talked them out of that. He would have been mortified. Correction, more mortified. “Should I call him? I was waiting for him to come to me,” she muttered to herself. Well, he’d done that.

She wandered out to the kitchen and made her morning coffee. Her one splurge was good coffee. She’d bought one of those special French presses that made two cups of strong, dark Kona roast. She needed it this morning.

As she waited for the water to boil, she tried to phrase what she would say. Hey, Gabe… Was that you who barely escaped with your underwear last night? She couldn’t help giggling. Maybe she could tease him, saying he could have a part-time job delivering strippergrams.

She shook her head, picturing the big somber guy he’d become handling any of that well. He would probably stammer and change the subject. How had he become so serious? She didn’t remember him that way. He was always on the quiet side, but with Parker, he was able to talk and laugh. She guessed that in a family of nine, somebody had to be quiet. But it’s not like he needs to be with me.

Well, whatever she said, it had to happen soon. If she let it go, it would look like she hadn’t cared what her friends did. If the shoe were on the other foot, he’d be right there apologizing for his friends—probably after he knocked down anyone who touched her. That made her smile…then wonder at herself. She certainly wouldn’t want to inspire anyone to violence. But it would be nice to know he cared. A little.

She sighed deeply and finished making her coffee. After a few fortifying sips, she located her phone. On her way to her closet, she realized she had forgotten to charge it. “I guess that dumb landline will come in handy after all, Parker.”

She felt a little foolish talking to her brother as if he were in the room instead of far away. What to tell him had also been weighing on her mind. The tests weren’t looking good. She’d been told there were lesions and she should see a specialist. They needed to know if the disease was active or not.

The disease. Yeah. They’d ruled out everything except MS. They hadn’t made it official yet, but it seemed only a matter of time before they ran out of other tests and explanations.

Suddenly, she felt ill. Nausea was an early symptom, but she hadn’t had that one yet. Chills invaded her, and a sweat broke out on her forehead. She dashed for the bathroom and made it to the toilet bowl just in time.

Last night’s pizza made a reappearance along with a lot of pink fluid. Ugh. Too much wine. It must have been the wine.

When she was able to get up, she brushed her teeth viciously, trying to get every crevice and taste bud clean. Then she dressed in jeans and a sweater, her usual Sunday morning attire. Even if she did feel like going to church, which she didn’t, she could go like this. No one got all dressed up at the church she belonged to. Boy, am I feeling lazy.

“Well, I have to call him,” she said and strolled to the living room where she kept the landline on an end table.

After a couple of rings, Gabe answered. “Misty?”

“Yeah, hi. Sorry about last night. Are you okay?”

He laughed. “I’m fine. It was flattering in a bizarre way.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re looking at it like that. I’m really sorry for my friends. When we all get together, we can act a little…wild.”

“You probably needed to go a little wild.”

She relaxed. “I did. But I wasn’t feeling too great this morning. I didn’t think I had that much to drink, but I must have. Oh well. Live and learn.”

“Are you feeling okay now?”

“Yeah. Perfectly fine.”

“Good. Would you like some company?”

Her brows shot up. “Seriously?” That popped out before she had a chance to think it through. Of course she wanted his company!

“Unless you’re busy,” he added.

“No. I was just planning on having a lazy, do-nothing day. I’d welcome your company.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll bring a board game. Do you still like Risk?”

“You’re kidding. You still have that?”

“Yup. We’re Yankees, Misty. Perfectly good games aren’t thrown away, even if nobody plays with them much. You know the Yankee motto…”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it. Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. Okay then. Bring it. I guess you got over your aversion to taking a risk?” She almost slapped her hand over her mouth. Did I just say that? Way to sabotage yourself again, Misty.

After a brief pause, he said in a quiet voice, “I might be getting there.”

After he hung up, she ran around like a demon, cleaning up after the party, vacuuming, dusting, and paying special attention to the bedroom. By the time he got there, she was pooped.

* * *

Gabe had spent quite a while thinking about what Sandra had said. She was not wrong. He just didn’t know what love meant—especially when it came to Misty. He hadn’t felt this way about any other woman and didn’t even want to.

Yes, he loved Misty…but how? As an old family friend? As a newfound friend? As a lover? He was terrified to find out, but he’d promised he’d try to be honest with himself.

He’d decided that spending some quality time with her would help them get to know each other better as adults, meaning not at doctor’s appointments and not in bed. Like hanging out or—dare he say it—even actual dating.

That’s why he’d brought a game with him. It was funny he’d suggested Risk. He hadn’t even thought about what the name implied. But if what he felt for Misty was real, he could decide what to do from there. Risk it or stay in his safe isolation. In the meantime, he didn’t want to behave like an ass. That made him feel worse than anything.

Then he thought of something that made him laugh and allowed him to be an ass because it was part of the game. So instead of Risk, he brought Cards Against Humanity.

Misty let him in and reached for his coat. “Army green looks good on you,” she said.

Anything looks good on you, he thought. But instead of voicing the compliment, he just smiled.

“Where’s the game?” she asked.

“In my pocket.”

“Risk? They make a pocket version now?”

He chuckled. “No. I didn’t feel like playing Risk. I brought something we’ve never played together before.” He dug the sleeve of small square cards out of his deep pocket.

When he produced the game, she grinned. “I’ve always wanted to try that, but I thought it was for more than two players.”

“We can make up our own rules. That’s what I like about it.”

“Awesome!”

“That’s right. We play for awesome points. When it’s only two people though, there’s no card czar. We have to agree on which person’s answer to the question is the funniest. Think we can do that without arguing?”

She looked up at him and smirked. “Is this a test?”

Maybe. He hadn’t thought of it that way. Until now. “I don’t like tests. I just think we both need a good laugh. But if we can’t decide on which is the funniest answer without debating, it won’t be fun anymore. Would you rather not try it?”

“No. I’d like to see what happens.”

“Okay. Got paper and a pen? One of us needs to keep score.”

“I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

Gabe looked at the sofa and chair. Hmmm… It didn’t really matter where they sat as long as they behaved themselves. He picked the chair.

“So, how was the rest of your party?”

She laughed from the other room. “It was fine. The girls were just a little worked up, because it was an adult toy party.”

Did she just say what I think she said?

When she came back, she gave him a sticky note pad and a pen with the bank’s name and logo on it. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water.”

“Water sounds good.” Misty left to go to the kitchen.

While she was gone, he glanced around her apartment. He didn’t see any “toys” and wondered if she’d bought anything. He wasn’t about to ask, though.

He hadn’t really looked closely at her apartment before. A bookshelf held not only books, but a vase and some home decor stuff. There was a large photo book facing out. He opened it and saw some pretty pictures of waterfalls, rivers, streams, and lakes.

Misty returned with two glasses. She put one on a cork coaster on the end table and found a second coaster for Gabe’s glass. Then she sat on the end of the couch closest to his chair.

“This is great photography,” he said.

“Yeah. Parker gave me that.”

“Really? It doesn’t strike me as something he’d like.”

“He didn’t. I did. We were kicking around Rockport one Saturday, and I wanted a souvenir. While I was looking around, I thumbed through this book and remarked on how much I liked the photographs, but it was kind of pricey. I don’t know when he bought it without my noticing, but he gave it to me for Christmas last year.”

“Very thoughtful guy, your brother.”

“Yeah. He has his moments.” She smiled wistfully.

“Have you talked to him recently?”

“Not for a few days.”

“Have you told him about the tests you’re having?”

She worried her lip. “I will. Probably as soon as I get the official diagnosis and prognosis.” She waved away the air in front of her. “I don’t want to think about that now. There’s nothing I can do until Thursday.”

“What’s Thursday?”

“Another appointment. No biggie. You don’t have to come with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Hey, let’s play this game.” She leaned forward, like she couldn’t wait to get started.

“Okay.” He opened the box and dealt ten white answer cards to each of them. Then he placed the smaller pile of black question cards between them. “We can take turns reading a question.”

“Okay. Ladies first?”

“Always.” He smiled.

She peeked at her white cards and chuckled. He surveyed his too. Oh boy. He forgot how politically incorrect this game could be. Hopefully she wouldn’t be shocked. Or if she was, maybe that meant she wasn’t the right girl for him.

She pulled the first black card from the top of the pile and read, “What gets better with age?”

Misty picked an answer card and held it out, ready to plop it down at the same time he picked his. He found one that fit, and they both showed their choices. Hers read, “A bucket of fish heads,” and his read, “Not wearing pants.”

They both laughed. Misty decided his answer was funnier since hers was just gross. He marked his column with one awesome point.

He pulled the next black card and read, “And the Academy Award for blank goes to blank. Oh, it’s a pick two.”

“Okay.” She perused her cards for a moment, then chuckled and separated two from the others. He did the same.

“You first,” he said.

“And the Academy Award for poor life choices goes to chunks of dead hitchhiker.”

He laughed.

“Okay, so what do you have?” she asked.

“And the Academy Award for science goes to an erection that lasts longer than four hours.”

She giggled. “Mine, again, is just gross. I must be a disgusting person.”

“Nah. That’s the point of the game. You can be as immature, disgusting, or politically incorrect as you want. How about if we don’t keep score?” Gabe suggested. “We can just enjoy trying to make each other laugh.”

“That sounds good. Okay. Next one… ‘The CIA interrogates enemy agents by repeatedly subjecting them to…’”

He laid down his answer right away. “A Super Soaker full of cat pee.”

She pulled a face while she was laughing. “Ewww… Now who’s disgusting? Sorry. We said no judgment, didn’t we?”

“Yup. This is a judgment-free zone. What does yours say?”

“The CIA interrogates enemy agents by repeatedly subjecting them to”—she read the card in her hand—“German dungeon porn.”

He almost swallowed his tongue and wondered if she even knew what that was. At least she was laughing.

She drew another question card. “What will I bring back in time to convince people I’m a powerful wizard?”

They shuffled through their remaining cards, and Misty snorted.

“Got a good one?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Bio-engineered assault turtles with acid breath.”

He chuckled. “Okay. That I’d like to see.”

“Now show me yours,” she said suggestively.

“‘What will I bring back in time to convince people I’m a powerful wizard?’ My collection of high-tech sex toys,” he said and winked.

Her eyes rounded. “You have some?”

Gabe laughed. “Not unless you bought something for me last night.”

“Hell no.”

He sighed dramatically. “Oh well. A guy can dream.”

“Next question,” she said, smirking.

Was it his imagination, or did she seem shocked by the idea that she’d buy him a sex toy? Or that he’d even want one? Maybe…especially if she wanted to be his sex toy.

Oh well. Moving on. He drew a new question card. “I got ninety-nine problems, but blank ain’t one.”

She scanned her last few cards and picked one. He did the same. Before he had to ask what her card said, she laid it down.

“Three dicks at the same time.”

“Wow. You are a wild woman.” Then he laid down his card. “I got ninety-nine problems, but getting married, having a few kids, buying some stuff, retiring to Florida, and dying, ain’t one.”

“Wow. That’s a lot on that itty-bitty card,” she said.

“And some people act like that’s all there is.”

She tipped her head and looked at him thoughtfully. He sensed an uncomfortable question coming his way, so he shoved the pile of black cards toward her. “Your turn.”

She drew another question card and asked, “What’s that smell?”

Gabe started going through his cards.

“No, really! What’s that smell?”

Gabe sniffed the air. “Gas. Grab your coat, and let’s go!”

Misty popped up and ran to the closet by the front door. She tossed his jacket to him first, then grabbed her own. “I need my computer,” she said and started toward her room.

“Leave it. Is your landlady home?”

“Oh! Mrs. Patterson. Yes. We have to get her out too.”

Misty grabbed her purse, and they rushed down the stairs. When they reached the door leading to the first-floor apartment, Misty banged on it.

“Mrs. Patterson! Mrs. Patterson!” She rushed to the small window that looked out on the driveway. “Her car is here.”

Gabe knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the knob. “The smell of gas is stronger here. Get outside and talk to EMS.” He handed her his phone. “I already dialed 911.”

He checked to see which way the door opened by checking the hinges. If the door opened toward him, kicking it down was going to be next to impossible. Fortunately, this door would swing away from him.

He hadn’t had to kick a door in for a long time, but he remembered to kick the side where the lock was mounted near the keyhole. This would typically be the weakest part of the door.

He quickly checked where Misty was and saw her standing on the sidewalk with the phone up to her ear. Apparently, she was doing what he’d asked, and she was clear.

Today, most doors are made of soft wood and are hollow. They give way fairly easily, especially since the lock’s dead-lock bolt extends only an inch or less into the doorframe. He hoped the landlady had replaced this door at some point and he wasn’t trying to break through original solid hardwood.

He backed up, and using a front kick, he rammed the heel of his boot into the door. He gave the kick forward momentum and kept his balance by driving the heel of his standing foot into the ground.

The wood began to splinter. Regardless, he had to kick it again. And again. Damn it. The thing is solid pine. At last, his foot went through. The smell of gas flowed through the hole he’d created.

He was able to reach in and turn the dead bolt. Opening the door, he called out “Boston Fire Department,” as he entered.

No answer. He still had to be on guard in case it was a trap. He didn’t think Misty’s landlady was one of those sick individuals known to lie in wait for firefighters. Those were genuinely horrible people against humanity. But Misty had said the landlady didn’t own a gun. Just a baseball bat.

He edged around a narrow doorway to a kitchen. A thin woman was seated at a tiny table, slumped over a cup of tea.

“Shit,” he muttered. He didn’t see any pilot light on the stove under the teapot and feared it had gone out. There was no way of knowing how long gas had been leaking. Now he just prayed he could get the woman out without creating a spark.

He draped her arm around his neck and scooped his hand under her denim-clad thighs. So far, so good. As he lifted her, static made her short hair fan out toward him. He held onto her and ran as fast as he could over the dirty shag carpet toward the front door.

BOOM!