Chapter One: Gaby

 

 

Early morning shifts were the worst. Gaby Diaz tried to be quiet, tiptoeing around the dark apartment as she stuffed a piece of toast in the toaster, gathered up her clothes, tried to find her keys and transit card ... but then she stepped on a Lego, and it was all over.

"Ow ow ow! Fargin' bargin' muffin-biscuit frickety-frackety blarginfrack—" She let out a whispered string of fake swearing that would've done credit to a sailor—a sailor on the S.S. Lollipop, that is—all too aware of her five-year-old son and, worse, her mother in the next room. Clinging to the back of a chair, she massaged her foot until the string of fake swearing wound down with a muttered, heartfelt, "Fudge!"

When Gaby looked up, her mother was standing in the darkened doorway of the room she shared with Gaby's son Sandy. "Sorry, Mama," Gaby whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Oh, no, I was already awake," her mother whispered back. She limped across the room to gather up the scattered toys and, along the way, paused to pick up Gaby's discarded cardigan and neatly fold it. She was recovering from hip surgery, but still tried to keep the place clean, always a chore with Hurricane Sandy running around all day. "If you have the 4:30 a.m. shift at the coffee shop this morning, you'll be home in early afternoon, won't you? That's nice; you and Sandy can go to the park before your evening classes. It'll do him good to get outside."

Gaby's heart twinged. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm covering a shift for one of my co-workers this afternoon so I can pick up some overtime. But," she added, "I don't have classes tonight, so I'll be home for dinner. I can pick up something nice if I get good tips. Maybe I'll get some beef so you can make your world-famous carne guisada tomorrow."

Luisa Diaz kissed her daughter's cheek. "A girl your age should not work so hard. You need to find a nice man who will take care of you."

Yes, a man who'll take care of me and my entire family. That sounds likely. Not to mention, between all the overtime and the evening classes and being a full-time single mom, it's not like I have time for dating ...

"Well, let me know if you find one. Meanwhile—" She snatched up the folded cardigan and grabbed her shoes. "I'm going to miss my bus and be late for work. Love you!"

She hurried out the door, hopped on one foot as she pulled on her shoes, and was halfway down the stairs before she remembered that she'd forgotten her toast. Oh well, she could grab a bagel or a donut at work. The breakfast of champions ...

And she'd also forgotten the textbook she'd meant to take along to study for her accounting test during her commute. Gaby sighed and leaned her head against the window as the bus pulled away from her stop. Maybe she could take a nap instead.

She was so tired all the time. It felt like she was burning her candle at both ends, trying to be a good mom and keep the family afloat while still planning for her future.

My mother's right. I sure could use a nice man. I don't know about taking care of me, but a second income wouldn't hurt. Not to mention the fringe benefits ...

She clamped her knees together and tried not to think about those fringe benefits, ones she hadn't enjoyed since breaking up with Sandy's deadbeat dad before her son was even born.

But unless the love of her life just happened to walk into the coffee shop, she was pretty much screwed—or not screwed, that's the problem—for the near future.

Oh well. Since she didn't have her textbook, she got out her phone, opened up a notepad app, and started making a shopping list for tonight. Napping could wait for a time in her life when she wasn't trying to support her family on minimum wage and earn a college degree.

But she did take a moment to twist her hair up and secure it with a clip so she didn't look quite so much like she'd just run down the street to catch a bus.

If Mr. Right picked today to walk into the coffee shop, at the very least she didn't want him to turn around in horror and walk right back out.

 

***

 

Gaby's stop was a few blocks down from the coffee shop, so she always had a bit of a walk. In the summer it wasn't bad, although for these morning shifts it was still dark, so she clutched her purse to her chest and walked swiftly.

As much as she hated having to drag herself out of bed for the 4:30 shift, especially when she'd been up late studying the night before, it was interesting to watch the city starting to wake up around her. The businesses were all still closed, except for an all-night convenience store on the corner, but delivery trucks were out and about. In little cafés and fast-food restaurants, some of the lights were on inside, sleepy-looking employees moving about as they prepared for the morning breakfast rush.

At the credit union a block down the street from the coffee shop, an armored car had pulled up onto the sidewalk, flashing its hazard lights while workers in brown uniforms swiftly unloaded it. Gaby paused to watch; she'd never seen that much money in one place before. At least, that's what she guessed was in those deceptively small canvas bags. One guy stood in the back of the truck and tossed the bags to his co-worker, who was—

—tossing the bags into the open door of the large black sedan parked on the curb behind the armored car.

... wait a minute.

Just as Gaby realized that she wasn't looking at a delivery but a robbery, the guy catching the bags looked up, straight across the street, at her.

Gaby's brain stuttered in sheer panic.

He was a huge guy with a blond crew cut and ice-pale eyes, pale enough to startle her even from across the street, lit only by the street lights and the growing light of dawn in the sky. And that bulge under his jacket definitely didn't mean he was happy to see her.

The guy tossing the bags realized his catching buddy wasn't catching anymore, and now they were both looking at her. Bag-Toss Guy dropped his bag and reached under his jacket.

Gaby turned and ran.

There was nothing open on the whole street. The coffee shop was the nearest place to go, but she would have to stop and unlock the door. Instead, she ducked down the alley behind the row of shops. Usually the coffee shop's owner and chief baker, Polly, would already be at work, which meant the back door would be unlocked and Gaby could get in without having to stop and fumble with her keys.

She heard pounding feet and a shout behind her. In the darkness of the alley, she stumbled into a garbage can, and despite knowing she had to run, she couldn't resist looking back.

The big guy with the pale eyes was framed in the entrance to the alley; she recognized him by his hulking size and the halo-like glow of the street light on his blond hair. He tore off his jacket and flung it aside. Underneath, he wore a gun, but he wasn't drawing it. Instead he leaned over and—

Gaby stared.

His big shoulders humped up enormously. His shirt tore off. And as he leaned forward, it wasn't human hands that thumped to the pavement, but the massive front paws of a—polar bear?

A tiny squeak of terror escaped her. The bear's huge head went up, covered in fur so white it seemed to glow.

Gaby was afraid to take her eyes off him. She stumbled backward, groping at the wall, trying to find the door to the coffee shop. Her hands closed on the familiar metal handle that she opened a dozen times a day. It was unlocked—Oh, thank you, Polly. Gaby tore it open and stumbled into the kitchen, slamming it behind her and throwing the deadbolt.

The kitchen was brightly lit, and Polly, a big woman with masses of curly hair pulled back in a hairnet, stared at Gaby over the rows and rows of baking sheets she was laying out. The warm air in the kitchen was fragrant with cinnamon and hot grease.

"Hon? You okay?"

"No," Gaby gasped. "We need to call the police. I—I just—"

And then she stopped, because she could hear, on the other side of the door, the sound of snuffling and the shuffling of big paws.

Gaby scrambled away from the door, grabbed Polly's arm, and pulled her out of the kitchen.

"Where are we—"

"Shhhh!" Gaby pulled her down behind the counter and tried to get her phone out, but her hands were shaking so hard she dropped her purse, spilling its contents on the floor behind the coffee-shop counter. All the lights were still off in the main part of the shop, but she didn't feel safe at all, not with those huge picture windows looking out at the darkened street. A bear could smash through those in an instant. "Call the police. There's a robbery happening at the credit union, right now."

Polly didn't panic or argue, just pulled out her phone with a plastic-gloved, floury hand and started dialing.

Gaby crawled along the counter and peeked back into the kitchen. It looked just as they'd left it, just as it looked every morning. It didn't seem like the bear had tried to break in after her.

But it knew where she had gone.

A moment later, she heard the wailing of sirens. Gaby screwed up her courage enough to tiptoe through the darkened coffee shop to peek out the window, looking down the street.

The armored car was still there, but the dark sedan behind it had gone. Flashing red and blue lights were visible at the end of the street, and a moment later, police cars pulled up onto the sidewalk.

Polly joined her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, hon. You're shaking like a leaf. What an awful thing to see. You must be terrified."

More than you know. Had she really just seen a man turn into a bear? How could she tell the police the truth? They were going to think she was nuts.

But she had to tell them. If she didn't, they were going to get killed when they tried to arrest him.

And he'd seen her. He'd smelled her. He knew which door she'd fled through. He could come back and find her anytime he wanted.

Clinging to Polly, Gaby burst into tears.