There are new developments with Gabrielle that I greet with mixed feelings. I am excited for her to be more honest with herself and others, but I also know that that honesty will come with a price. Difficult days are ahead, and it may be hard to make her believe that the happiness and comfort she will find on the other side will be worth the pain.
She met someone this week. I actually wasn’t there when they first met one another, but Inca was—Gabrielle had decided to go horseback riding with a friend, and her tendency to neglect safety gear and take running jumps at every opportunity makes it necessary for Inca to go with her every time. While they were on the trail, they met a group of hikers and started up a conversation, and one of them caught Gabrielle’s eye.
I must say, I’m impressed by Inca, who recognized the connection between the two of them. I was busy with another charge when she called me—a lunch date with Anna and Jacob, about which there truly is nothing to say—so I decided to take her word and check in on it later. And Inca was absolutely correct. There is a connection between these two, and a strong one.
Gabrielle needed little encouragement to seek out her new fascination. She knew where to look from the conversation on the trail, and so she and I arrived with eager anticipation at a little restaurant in a quaint business neighborhood just a few blocks from downtown.
We saw her right away. She wore her curls short and swept to one side, while the other side of her scalp is shaved close. Today there were three earrings in that ear, one dangling a feather that brushed her shoulder. She is small and compact with a quick gait and a wide smile, and the moment she spotted Gabrielle, that smile grew to its limit.
Her name is Christina Dell. She is two years older than Gabrielle, and her aura reminds me a bit of Victoria—tranquil and warm, but with a streak of fun that would certainly appeal to Gabrielle.
She came sauntering over to the door, waving the hostess away. “So it’s my knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice low and welcoming. “What brings you here?” Her bright eyes suggested that she already knew exactly what.
Gabrielle had to take a moment. She was wondering how she could have been so floored by someone simply walking toward her.
I nudged her, and she cleared her throat, shaking her head to clear it, too. “You said this place has good food,” she said, shrugging. “I thought I’d give it a try.”
Christina nodded slowly. “It ought to,” she said, motioning for Gabrielle to follow her. “Farm-to-table only—we know personally all of the providers of our food. There’s a noodle bowl with pork belly and green onions that is just to die for.”
Gabrielle made a noise of interest, but all three of us knew that the food was just an excuse. “So you don’t own the place, but you’re a manager, right?”
“Yep.” Christina waved her into a seat at the bar—it was midafternoon, after the rush of lunch but well before the place needed to start preparing for dinner. “Fun story, I actually grew up on one of the farms we use. As a kid I hated it, and I was desperate to get away, but after I got out of college I missed it like crazy. I couldn’t stand to go home and have my parents gloat, so I went to the other side of it instead.” She laughed.
Gabrielle rested her chin on her hand. “Where did you go to college?” she asked.
And so they talked, with more easy intimacy than they would have had on the trail. Christina’s employees left them be, though I did see some grins and whispering at a distance. Neither woman seemed to notice.
It was easy to see that Gabrielle was infatuated. Just as apparent, however, was Christina’s interest. She leaned in to listen to what Gabrielle was saying, and though I gathered that her shift was over, her relief having arrived only a few minutes after Gabrielle had, she lingered, enjoying the time.
I was enjoying it, too. They were easy with one another, drawn to one another without the usual anxiety that comes with it. Gabrielle seemed to have forgotten her inhibitions, so eager, I think, to feel comfort and attraction at the same time that she didn’t think about the repercussions. I was glad to see it.
About an hour after her arrival, however, Christina let her fingers brush across the back of Gabrielle’s hand, and all of those inhibitions came flying back. Gabrielle snatched her hand away, her face heating bright red.
Christina sat back, surprised and dismayed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I—” But it was impossible, for a moment, for her to voice all the things that had up until then been unsaid.
Gabrielle shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s okay.” More than okay, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “It’s just…I’m married,” she finished lamely.
I could see how Christina’s stomach sank at this news. “Oh,” she said, and she started thinking back over the conversation, trying to see how she had so badly misinterpreted the signs.
“You didn’t,” I whispered to her. “Let her explain.” And I urged Gabrielle to do just that.
“I mean,” Gabrielle said, stumbling over the words, “I’m not—the divorce is almost through. Stupid paperwork. And I haven’t been living with him for weeks.”
Christina’s brows shot up. “Him?” she repeated.
Gabrielle met her gaze. “Yeah. It was a mistake, but I thought…I do love him,” she said miserably. “Or I did. And I thought…but it didn’t work.”
Only the smallest part of Gabrielle’s pain showed on her face, but it was the kind of pain that Christina recognized immediately. She leaned forward, sympathy on her face. “Are you out yet?” she asked.
“Technically? No. But I think everyone knows.” She shook her head, looking embarrassed. “I wish I’d just been brave enough to tell the truth and save myself the misery.”
“Trust me, sometimes there’s no way to avoid the misery completely,” Christina said. She set her hand on Gabrielle’s again, this time a firm, comforting grip. “Let me guess—your family won’t approve?”
Gabrielle shook her head again, fighting tears. But she won that fight and looked up fiercely into Christina’s face. “But I’m done lying to myself,” she said. “I’m done trying to make myself happy with scraps when I can have it all.” She turned her hand to take hold of Christina’s, gripping it tightly. “So I’m going to tell you that I think you are fucking gorgeous and I was insanely attracted to you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and to hell with the consequences.”
Christina smiled, her aura lighting up with pleasure. “Well, what is a girl to do?” she murmured, and she slid a hand into Gabrielle’s hair and pulled her forward for a kiss.
It was gentle, and far too brief—Christina’s employee behind the bar could not resist a wolf whistle, and she whirled around to send him back to work—but Gabrielle was left breathless. It was a moment she had dreamed of for years, long before she could admit to herself that she wanted it. And it was better than she imagined, as if a marble in her hands had broken open and sent out shoots of green, as if a door had opened and let her out into a world that was not as frightening as she’d thought.
Sighing, Christina hopped down from her chair. “Look, I’ve got to get out of here,” she said. She held out her hand to Gabrielle. “Coming with? I could use a bite to eat. The food won’t be as good as it would be here,” she admitted, “but at least we’d stand a chance of getting some privacy.” She glared at the bartender, who grinned back.
Gabrielle took Christina’s hand. “I thought you’d never ask.” Her delight made her confident, and she leaned against Christina’s shoulder. “You know what this means, though? For the next week or so, until the papers go through, you’re my mistress.”
Christina threw her head back and laughed, and Gabrielle thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. For me, though, that was the happy sigh Gabrielle let loose as they walked out of the restaurant together. It was too quiet for Christina to hear, but in it I could hear a release that Gabrielle has wanted for a long time, and the beginning of hope for the future which has until now seemed impossible.
Yes, the days ahead will be hard for her, but is that not worth it? Is that not a strong foundation that will get her through the struggle? I choose to believe that it is. And of course, she won’t go through it all alone.