I spent this afternoon with Gabrielle, hoping to get to know her a bit more. For once, Inca was not there—Gabrielle intended to spend all day working on homework for her graduate classes, and she believes that there is little enough danger in that. Gabrielle was restless, however, and finding it difficult to focus. She was about to give up when I made the suggestion that perhaps having someone else in the room would help. It was the empty apartment that seemed to bother her—she was playing music to fill the silence, trying to ignore the echoes.
I admit, I had an ulterior motive for suggesting this. I have learned enough about Gabrielle to know whom she will call on for something like this, and I wanted to see a bit more of their interactions.
Victoria arrived twenty minutes later, wearing sweatpants, house slippers, and a grumpy expression. She had a book in one hand and a box of tea in the other. “You’re having some of this,” she said. “Don’t worry, it’s decaffeinated.”
“Then what’s the point?” Gabrielle asked and shut the door behind her.
“I’m sorry, I thought I was here to calm you down, not pep you up?” She looked at the scatter of books and pages in Gabrielle’s living room and shook her head. Kicking off her slippers, she went into the kitchen. “Take a break while I make the tea.”
Gabrielle needed no further urging. She trailed after Victoria and boosted herself up onto the counter, watching as Victoria filled the kettle, turned on the stove, and dropped a tea bag in two mugs. She was as familiar in Gabrielle’s kitchen as if it were her own.
I had expected to have to guide them to the topic I wanted, but Gabrielle started right into it without any encouragement from me. “So you met Nick the other day,” she said.
Victoria nodded, digging in the cabinet for a box of cookies. She opened it, grabbed one, and stuffed it whole into her mouth.
Gabrielle decided then that an answer was not forthcoming. “So what did you think?”
Victoria swallowed and plucked out another cookie. “What do you want me to think?”
“No, I want your honest opinion.”
“I thought I already told you what I thought.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me everything.”
“Why should I bother? You won’t listen to me.”
“Vic,” Gabrielle complained.
“What? I know how this goes, Gabby. You ask for advice, I give it, and then you do whatever the hell you want anyway.”
“But you always sound so wise and loving when you’re giving advice,” Gabrielle said cajolingly. “And isn’t it fun when you’re proved right and you get to say ‘I told you so’?”
“I never say ‘I told you so.’”
“For which God surely blesses you.” Gabrielle reached out and took a cookie. “But seriously. I want to know what you think.”
Victoria gave her friend an exasperated look, but the irritation was a thin film on top of a deep affection, which Gabrielle could see as well as I could. They have known one another a long time, these two, and share the kind of friendship that does not permit negativity for long.
Victoria shrugged, dusting powdered sugar from her hands. “He’s nice,” she said. “Seems to know what to expect from you, if not how to deal with you.”
Gabrielle scoffed. “No one knows how to deal with me,” she boasted.
Now the look that Victoria gave was skeptical and amused.
“Except you,” Gabrielle finally admitted.
“Uh-huh.” She closed up the box of cookies and put it away. “You’ve known him for a long time, right?”
“Longer than I’ve known you, anyway. We’re good friends.”
“See, that’s what worries me.” Victoria plucked the kettle from the stove before it began to whistle and poured. “You say friends, but he thinks you hung the moon. He loves you, Gabby, and I just am not sure that you love him as much.”
Gabrielle was silent, and I realized then that silence in a woman like her has a great deal to say. She knew that Victoria had a point, and yet a part of her disagreed. The only thing I wasn’t sure about was which part had the truth, and which was in denial.
“Am I wrong?” Victoria asked, also listening to that silence. “Only you hardly ever talk about him.” She brought Gabrielle a steaming mug.
Gabrielle took it, wrapping her hands around it and letting the steam rise over her face. “No,” she admitted, “but that’s not because I’m not happy to be with him. He feels like home, and that’s not nothing. And when I’m with him…” She closed her eyes. “There’s a comfort there, and a quietness that I so rarely find.”
“Don’t I know it,” Victoria murmured, but she took note when Gabrielle didn’t laugh.
Gabrielle opened her eyes and looked down at her friend. “When I’m with him,” she said, “I feel like everything is settling into place. And that feeling is so, so nice.”
It was curious to watch her say this, because while she was telling the truth, there was also another part that she was holding back. I do not know quite how to describe was she was feeling, except in the imagery that she was thinking of—her life in many pieces, and all the pieces coming together around Nick—all but one, which he could never give to her. What this piece of her might be, I could not say, but it seemed important to Gabrielle. Yet what she seems to have decided is that she is willing to sacrifice this one thing to have the rest.
Shaking her head, Gabrielle hopped down from the counter, then yelped as hot tea sloshed over the edges of the cup onto her fingers. Victoria, who had seen this coming, took the mug from her and motioned toward the sink.
“Well, if you’re happy,” she said as Gabrielle ran cold water over her fingers, “then I’m happy for you.”
Gabrielle turned off the water and shook droplets into the sink, watching them fall. “I think I am happy,” she said, in some surprise. “It’s not perfect, but who is in this world? And I do love him, Vic.” She turned around, and her smile convinced me as well as Victoria. “Whatever his faults, or our faults together, I don’t want to give up on him.”
And those words endeared her to me more than anything she has yet said—for who knows more about loving someone despite their faults but me?
Victoria nodded slowly. “All right, then.” She held out Gabrielle’s cup to her. “Tea’s made. Time to work.”
Gabrielle groaned, but she went, and Victoria sat across from her, drank tea, and read her book. For the rest of the afternoon they said not a word, but Gabrielle finished her homework for the evening and felt much better in herself.
I am glad that Gabrielle has a friend who can support her so well. Inca may be her guardian, but Victoria is responsible for keeping her spirit safe. I should learn from her so that I may do the same for all of my charges.