Chapter Thirteen: Lynette
I looked through the piles of bills and receipts spilled out on the desk. I flipped through them quickly looking for anything that I could have missed. Any sort of collateral that I could use to stave off the bank for just a little bit longer.
I knew I wouldn't find anything.
I’d been running the place on hard work and hope for months. Any sort of property my father had owned had already been liquidated.
It was late in the afternoon but in the windowless back office of the bar it might as well have been midnight.
I was out of time.
“I'm really sorry, Lynette, but really, there's nothing more we can do here,” the loan officer, Matt, had said to me during our phone meeting. “You don't have anything to back up any kind of loans or extensions at this point. Excuse me for being blunt, but your father is dead broke.”
Matt had sighed and continued, “Look, at this point there's really nothing to do. You have a little less than ninety days. If you want my advice, sell it and be done with the whole thing.”
I had thanked him and hung up the phone.
Now I was sitting in front of the pile of bills. I gathered them up and stuffed them into a rusty filing cabinet. It didn't matter anymore. I’d been fighting a losing battle for a long time.
I picked up my cell and dialed Cheryl.
She answered on the third ring. “Where have you been?”
“Hey,” I replied. “With Gabriel.”
“What? Really?”
‘Yeah. We spent some time together, and...”
“Oh my god! Do you like him? Is he still here?”
“I don't know. It's weird.”
“That a nice guy likes you? Yeah, that's super strange,” Cheryl said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
I thought about Gabriel that morning. His heat, his kiss. I shook the memories away.
“I'm not sure why he’s still hanging around.”
“I'm sure he's trying to get something,” Cheryl replied with a laugh, the meaning not lost on me.
“He's already gotten that, multiple times so I really don't think that’s what he's sticking around for.”
“Oh!” Cheryl's shock was evident, and I regretted telling her immediately. “He's staying?”
“I think so.”
“Oh my, this is serious! Well as long as you're being safe. You two have been safe, haven't you?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m not stupid.”
“Good because I don’t want to be planning you a baby shower any time soon.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll never have to do that.”
I forced a subject change to something I could only talk to her about. “I called the bank today.”
“Nice try,” she said. “Quit changing the subject. We’re not finished talking about your new boyfriend.”
“He's not my boyfriend. He’s just a guy.”
Cheryl snorted.
“Some guy? You don't just let some guy sleep with you. This Gabriel is not just some guy. He might be the guy.”
“I don't want to talk about it. Everything is weird enough right now. I've got real problems. I don’t have time to be all worked up about a boy.”
“Ain't nothing 'boy' about him. From what I saw, he's all man. Doesn't that cane make him look distinguished? Oh my god! We should all go somewhere for dinner. I want to check him out, get to know him better.”
“Stop it! This is serious.”
“So am I.”
“I'm losing the bar. For real this time.”
The words hung in the air. It was the first time I had said them out loud. Admitted to myself or anyone what was coming down the line.
“Well,” Cheryl finally said, breaking the silence. “Is that really a bad thing? I mean, the place is a hole.”
I pulled myself out of the desk chair and laid down on the cot.
“I know, but it's all I’ve got.”
“That is not true.”
“Yes, it is. My dad put everything he had into this place. If I lost it. . .”
“Who gives a shit about that?”
I was surprised at the venom in my friend's voice. Cheryl was nothing if not blunt.
“If he cared about the bar and you, he wouldn't be literally drowning in booze. Fuck him and fuck the bar. You've given enough. You’ve spent your whole life taking care of him and that damn bar. You need to think about yourself for a change.”
“You know I can't do that. I have employees to think about. And someone has to be here for Dad. I'm all he's got left.”
Cheryl's tone stayed serious.
“Lynette, I don't get on you often but listen, this is a miracle. Let the place sink. Your employees suck. They’re the worst. And your Dad is a grown ass man. You have to live your life. Stop living for everyone else and start living for you. You deserve it. More than anyone I know.”
“Where did you get that? A movie somewhere? This is real life. I have responsibilities.”
“And it's your life! That you can finally start living. I've watched you breaking your back for that place since you were a teenager. That’s years of your life, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing. Just walk away from it and don’t look back. Ever.”
I started to argue, but then stopped. I closed my eyes.
Would losing this place really be that bad?
“Look, I've still got a little time,” I said. “I'll think about it. Okay?”
“Fine. I’ve got to go. It's almost five. I have to pack up so I can get home. I'll call you back tonight.”
“Oh shit! You're still at work. I'm sorry.”
Cheryl made a dismissive sound.
“Whatever. You know I don't give a shit about this job.”
Laughing softly, I said my goodbyes and hung up the phone. I looked around the office, thinking about Cheryl and how carefree she was.
God, I wish I could be like that.
My eyes caught the package from Gabriel that I hadn’t opened yet. Sighing, I reached over, pulling it off the desk and onto the cot with me. A tug at one end of the ribbon caused the whole knot to come loose in a shower of silver and green.
Nestled inside was a binder. Plain, black, nondescript. I pulled it away from its tissue paper confines and turned it over in my hands. No title, nothing to explain it.
I opened it to find a notebook page filled with tight slanted handwriting. I flipped quickly through and saw all the pages were the same. Page after page of letters in the same handwriting.
I turned back to the first page and started reading. Dear Lynette, it started. It was an apology. A very stark and formal apology. It ran through the details of my brother's death. What an upstanding man he had been. All the things Gabriel had said when he saw me on the first day. And then signed, very formally with his name and rank.
Captain Gabriel James Thomas
The next was much the same. And the next. But then something started to change. His handwriting was the same, but the letters were more personal. There were pictures attached to some of the letters.
The first was of Gabriel in the hospital. He was smiling, but his green eyes were devoid of light. He was covered in stitches still and his hair was starting to grow back.
Dear Lynette, changed into just Lynette.
I smiled as he detailed getting the puppy.
My parents got me a dog. I guess they thought it would get me out of bed and not paralyzed. They meant well, but I thought about telling them that if they had gotten him when I was five, maybe I would have never left for the Army. It's not true but it's hilarious when Mom starts feeling guilty. She does this full on fainting routine. Clutching at imaginary pearls and all. But still, the dog is nice. He's quiet. And it's someone else’s job to clean up after him. I think I'll name him Roscoe. He's such a great guy.
Attached to the letter was a picture of him with the dog. The scars on his face were still noticeable, but the stitches were all gone.
The dog was small at the time. A lab puppy, black with big, brown eyes. He detailed his physical therapy. Apologizing for how short the letters were and explaining that he was exhausted.
I wonder if it was like this when I learned to walk the first time? Probably not. It was all new then. Now I have to relearn everything. This all feels like a lost cause. It hurts and my body doesn't listen to me willingly anymore. It's like I'm fighting myself at every turn but everyone keeps saying I'm doing better and talking about hope. But I don't feel any different. It feels the same as it felt right after the accident. When I wasn't dead.
I squinted at the page. These were Gabriel's words. All of them. They were his thoughts and he had been writing to me at least once a week for almost three years. And I understood how he felt because I felt like that now. All the time. The pictures were few and far between, but they showed him getting better.
From bed, to wheelchair, to walker, to cane.
His hair grew out, along with a beard. The dog got bigger too, from a tiny puppy into a massive lab with heavy paws and please forgive me eyes.
He talked about his work. Managing the family business. His parents passing off more and more duties in an effort to keep him occupied until finally he was in control of the whole business. He wrote about it, covering the basics in bits and snatches of information. Manufacturing soap of all things.
I pulled out the last picture he had sent. In all the photos he was smiling. Only with his mouth and never with his eyes. He never looked at the person holding the camera the way he looked at me.
I pulled my knees to my chin and stared at the picture in my hand. The man in the photo was not the man who had held me that morning. He was not the man who had stood next to me urging me to smile so he could capture my picture. The man in the photo was haunted. His green eyes were cloudy and dull.
I tapped the photo against my lips and laid down on the cot, closing the binder. I wondered where he was, what he was doing. Looking at my phone, I saw it was almost nine and I had missed five calls. They were all from him. He hadn't left any voice-mails for me. I stared at the phone, unsure what to do next. It vibrated in my hand.
“Gabriel,” I said slowly, letting his name roll off my tongue.
“You finally answered.”
“Yes, sorry. I was a bit wrapped up.”
“How did your meeting go?”
“Uhm...” I didn't want to talk about it, so I said, “I opened the package.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and I read your letters.”
“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice losing its earlier bravado.
“I guess we should, right?”
I sighed.
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
“Wait...”
“What?”
I bit my lip and glanced around the office.
“Dinner would be nice. Can you pick something up on the way?”
“I’m on it,” he said, and the call disconnected.
It wasn’t even half an hour when I heard his Audi stop in the parking lot. I’d memorized the sound of the engine and the sound of his out-of-rhythm footsteps. I had it all in my mind because I knew when all was said and done, when he left, I could remember everything about him. I went to the front and opened the door for him. He smiled at me, even though the worry was evident in his eyes.
“Hey,” he said and kissed me on the cheek.
“Hey,” I replied with a dull smile.
I closed the door again and made sure to lock it this time.
“Let me take that for you,” I said and took the bag from him.
We walked to the office, where the desk was still in a state of disarray.
“What happened in here?” he asked.
“Oh, you know, trying to catch up on a bit of paperwork. It’s piled up a bit,” I explained.
“That looks like a year’s worth of backlog.”
“Something like that.”
I shrugged, clearing out the cot so that he could sit down. He looked tired and I wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.
“Here, sit down. You look tired.”
“I’m okay.”
“So how was your day?”
“I got a call from my father,” he said. “I was supposed to have been back today, and he just wanted to know what was going on.”
“He knows about me, obviously.”
“Yeah.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked.
“Well...”
“You didn't tell him,” I mumbled, “about you and me.”
“Look, Lynette, the topic of you and me isn't something that I want to tell him over the phone.”
“Why not?” I asked.
He placed his hand over mine and smiled slightly.
“Because it’s too important. You deserve more than that.”
I squeezed his hand, as no words were necessary in that moment.
“I have to go back home for a bit,” he said.
“I know.”
“But I’m going to tell them about us, and then I’ll be back, okay?”
“I don't want to disrupt your life, Gabriel.”
“You’re the best disruption my life has ever had.”
I smiled slowly and nodded.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” I said softly and glanced at the binder beside us. “Do you want to talk about this.”
“You read it all?”
“I did. I had some free time today.”
“You must have questions.”
“That I do.”
I placed the binder on my lap and opened it.
“Why didn't you send these? You knew where I was. Why did you just keep them?”
He was silent for a moment before beginning.
“I didn't know where you were. I had an idea. I knew the town.”
“You knew the bar, though.”
“I found the bar only after I started writing you letters. And by then I had really started to write you. I didn't just want to apologize to you. I wanted to get to know you. But most of all I wanted...”
“Someone to talk to?” I prompted.
“Yeah,” he said.
He pushed his hair back and out of his face, like he did every time he felt uncomfortable.
“Oh god, you probably think I'm some sort of stalker. Again.”
I laughed, looking at his photo.
“No, I don't think you're stalking me. I do think this is a little weird though.”
“Weird? Yes, it's strange. But does that mean it's not real?”
Gabriel's voice was shaky.
“I don't know. I'm really bad at all of this.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t.” I sighed. “This is just all so much to take in, you know. The binder, what happened with Terry, you, these feelings I have, the bar. I can’t deal with it all at once.”
I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.
“Lynette.”
“No, it’s fine. Forget I even mentioned it.”
“If you’re in trouble, you can tell me.”
“Please don’t. I really don't have the strength to deal with this right now. I’ve had a long and tiring day. I just want to eat and forget about everything that makes me feel like I’m failing. Okay?”
“Okay, I’m sorry if I pressed.”
“I know you mean well. I really do, but can we just forget about my troubles? Even if it’s just for a couple of hours.”
“Sure,” he agreed after a moment.
We ate our food in silence, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. His presence, albeit overwhelming, was comforting and I felt safe, untouchable even. I could conquer the world with him by my side, and I dreaded the fact that he was leaving in the morning.
Hot tears welled up in my eyes when it came to saying good-bye to him, but I didn't allow them to fall, because then Gabriel would know that I wasn't as okay as I said I was.
Why couldn't I open up to him? Why couldn't I just tell him how scared I was, or how hopeless I felt? He opened himself up to me, completely. He was even going back home to tell his parents about me in person.
“Don’t look so sad, baby,” he said as we stood outside the bar.
I smiled half-heartedly, put my arms around his waist and held him tight. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and I fought hard not to cry.
He stroked my hair and softly said, “I’ll be back.”
I looked up at him and whispered, “Promise?”
“I promise,” he whispered back at me and kissed the tip of my nose.
I finally let go of him, and watched as he climbed in his car, waving at me one last time. As I watched his car disappear into the night, I realized that I had never felt this lonely in my entire life.
A part of me wished that he wouldn’t come back. Sure, it would hurt, but it’d also seem easier. I didn't want him to be a part of my broken, upside down, pathetic life. He deserved so much better. He deserved a pretty girl who came from a functional family, who was wholesome and happy.
I was far from someone like that.
It wasn't even the type of person I aspired to become, because those were unrealistic, unreachable expectations.
I could never be that person, and I would never be good enough for Gabriel.
I knew that, and deep down inside, he had to know it too.