Chapter Ten
Gabrielle kept driving until she was hopelessly lost. This suited her perfectly and she pulled into a motel and took a room. LaPorte was a small town in Kentucky; the kind with a courthouse that sat in the town square. It was surrounded by benches holding old men without teeth telling war stories. There was an unassuming peace that permeated the atmosphere and it felt so far different from the Vegas lights that at last Gabrielle began to relax.
She’d spent over two thousand miles hating Arran but despite that, she knew she was still in love with him. Rationale told her that the devastation stemmed from his betrayal – no matter the cause, he owed it to her to stay in touch. Most of all, he owed it to her to mention that he was marrying.
She discovered, much to her chagrin, that much of Kentucky was dry and there were no bars where she could waitress locally. She drove to the nearby larger city of Louisville where there were all kinds of clubs and began applying for positions. Her résumé including the Bellagio went a long way toward getting her interviews and she finally accepted a position at the cocktail lounge at the Hyatt. Her new boss was Margie Carr, a woman of mysterious descent who smiled often and worked very quickly. She and Gabrielle hit it off immediately and it wasn’t long before Gabrielle fell into the familiar rhythm of a server’s life.
With her first paycheck, she found an apartment in town in a very modest, working man’s neighborhood. Her neighbors were young parents and some seniors for the most part, although there were a few misfits from society who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. The building had two stories and a grassless, miniscule front yard with only on-street parking. Gabrielle was glad she’d not bought an expensive vehicle; the temptation to thieves in the area would have been too great. She felt at home here, despite the shady environment. These were her kind of people – they may not have owned much in the way of possessions, but there was an unspoken sense of integrity. If you made a bad name for yourself in this world, there was nowhere else for you to go.
Gabrielle had a tiny balcony, barely large enough for a folding chair and a single Gerber daisy in a pot. She sat there, drinking orange juice and marveling how much her life had changed yet again. She had gotten rid of the cell phone that Arran had provided and bought an untraceable model with mobile minutes. That suited her purposes quite well. This life was so much simpler… or so she tried to convince herself. She made no plans for the future, but had decided that for the moment, she would let life come to her unscripted.
Margie had a large family she supported. Her husband had been killed by a drunk driver and this made her all the more wary of how she served her customers. She lived in a double-wide mobile home on the far west end and one Sunday she had invited Gabrielle for dinner.
Gabrielle arrived with a tray of fresh fruit in hand and found Margie’s heart to be big, but her house, not so much. Her children were all under the age of fifteen and they ran in and out, fighting and screaming at one another. When she opened the lid of the fruit she’d brought, they set upon it like locusts. She had the feeling that Margie couldn’t afford such fresh foods for her family and this made Gabrielle very sad. Was this what her own future looked like now?
Gabrielle headed home that night counting her blessings. She had no idea what lay ahead.
* * *
It was Friday night and there was a huge convention in town. The cocktail lounge had seen a steady flow of primarily men since noon. There were essentially two kinds: those who came with their wives and drank to forget that fact and those who came without their wives and were trying to find a lady for the night. Often the loner left the bar with someone’s wife in tow. It was very entertaining to watch the soap opera of partners on a convention weekend. For two precious days people lost their inhibitions and behaved like depraved animals. By Sunday night they were traipsing out of the lobby, wet cloths over their foreheads, dragging suitcases and dressed in whatever rumpled clothing they rescued from the room floor. She got more than her share of proposals. People seemed to think that hotel employees were there for whatever pleasure the guest wanted; no holds barred. She systematically smiled and walked away.
One night there had been a particularly aggressive guest. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed. She thought she saw Arran in his face. She had a drink with him on her break and although he wanted more, the reality sunk in and she left the table in tears.
On this particular night there were no dark-eyed strangers to tug at her heart. She went about her work routinely, pocketing healthy tips throughout the evening. She was really tired by last call and there was still a considerable mess in the lounge to clean up. It was well after three in the morning before she left to go home.
Traipsing the three flights up to her apartment, she stumbled from being so tired. Gabrielle struggled with fitting the key in the lock and once she got inside, she leaned against the door with relief, reaching to flip on the light. All at once she felt extremely nauseated and ran for the bathroom. There was little relief and it was several hours before she fell asleep. The next afternoon she showed up for work looking a bit haggard. Margie noticed immediately and asked if something was wrong.
Gabrielle nodded. “I’m pregnant.”