Sass & Serendipity (29 page)

“He also said you were beautiful,” Prentiss went on, gently cupping her chin in his hand. “He told me about your long wavy hair and that pretty face with the dark, sad eyes.”

Sad eyes? Gabby blinked self-consciously. Did she really have sad eyes?

Prentiss’s hand had moved up her cheek. He was still smiling softly. But even though he was looking right at her, he seemed focused on something far away.

“So … you lost him, too,” he whispered. His smile disappeared and his hand dropped from her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, but not like you. I hardly knew him. You two—”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, staring down at the plaid fabric of the couch. “No wonder you hated me. God.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I’m trying to be good,” he said to the couch cushions. “I don’t drink anymore. I’m helping out my folks. I tried going to UT, but … all those students drinking and partying every night. It was too hard. I’ll try again in the fall. At the junior college.”

Gabby wasn’t sure if he was talking to her. She wasn’t even sure if he was in the here and now. It almost sounded like a litany. His words followed a patterned cadence, like the practiced tone her grandmother used when saying her Hail Marys. Was he asking for forgiveness? Was he actually hoping to be absolved by Gabby, someone who held grudges so long they practically took on breath and form?

She reached over and grabbed his hands. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. People make mistakes. I know you miss Sonny, but you can’t stay stuck in the past.” As soon as she spoke the words they seemed to hover around her, gently prodding, reminding her of a similar conversation she’d had not long before. A feeling of clarity came over her, as well as deep compassion for Prentiss. She cupped his chin in her hand, just as he had done to her earlier, and turned his face toward her. “You have to move forward. You have to live your life. Sonny would want that.”

A watery sheen covered his eyes. He blinked hard and let out a gaspy chuckle. “Are you sure you aren’t a magical being that came out of nowhere?”

She laughed.

“I should have known you were the wood nymph,” he said, his expression growing serious.

“How?”

“Because. I felt drawn to you. I think, on some level, I recognized you. Or maybe I recognized your loss. I don’t know. I just … wanted to get closer.”

Suddenly, just like that night on his porch, there was something there between them, spiking the air and pulling her toward him. Gabby fell forward into the sparkling current until her face was right in front of his. For a second, they stared at each other, holding each other with their eyes. Then they held each other with their arms, coming together for a long kiss.

After an unfathomable amount of time, their lips broke apart and they simply stayed in each other’s embrace. It was a nice feeling. Like being set free.

And the only thing that prevented it from being perfectly perfect was that Gabby’s nose was starting to run.

“Excuse me,” she said, rising to her feet. “I need to get a Kleenex.”

She glanced around and was suddenly struck by the room’s disarrayed state. Makeup and hair care products were strewn all over the coffee table, her mom’s full-length mirror was propped in front of the TV set, and a pair of pantyhose was draped over the armchair. “Damn!” Gabby exclaimed. “What happened here?”

Prentiss laughed. “I saw some guy come by earlier and pick up your sister. They going to prom?”

Gabby nodded. “I hope so,” she said, plucking a beaded necklace off the carpet and carefully setting it on the coffee table. “That or they’re eloping.”

He chuckled again and gave her a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” she said, swabbing her nose as daintily as possible.

“You know what?” Prentiss stood up beside her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “We need to get out.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. What do you say we go find some fun?”

Gabby lowered her brows. “What, exactly, do you have in mind?”

Prentiss just smiled.

“I still can’t believe
you
went to prom and not me!” Daphne said, staring over Gabby’s shoulder at the photos Prentiss had dropped off earlier.

Gabby thought they were hilarious. Prentiss in his Spurs T-shirt and jeans. She in her red polyester work uniform, carefully holding the thorny rose he’d sliced off one of the bushes before they’d left. But she loved their big goofy grins. It reminded her of all the fun they’d had that night.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t wear one of my dresses,” her mom said. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I guess I could have, but most of what you have is office wear,” Gabby said.

Mrs. Rivera raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying my wardrobe is boring?”

“No!” Gabby’s reply was quick and automatic, the familiar protective instinct taking hold. Then she noticed the smile on her mom’s face. “Well … for the office, no. For parties, maybe.”

“That’ll change,” her mom said. “Every time she does my hair Sue tries to talk me into going clothes shopping with her. About time I take her up on that.”

Daphne cheered and Mrs. Rivera laughed. It was startling how different their mom seemed since she’d returned home the day before. Her smile was more relaxed and frequent, and she even giggled on occasion. It was as if some sort of switch had taken place in Atlanta. The mom who’d left had been tense and frantic. The mom who’d come back was far merrier, more like the warm, happy person she’d been when Gabby was a child. She even looked younger. But then, Gabby had to admit the same about herself. Looking at the silly photos, she saw evidence of something she hadn’t seen—or felt—in years: real joy.

At first when Prentiss had pulled up in front of the gymnasium, which was all garlanded with crepe paper and string lights for prom, Gabby had almost pitched one of her trademark tilde-mouth fits. Now she was glad she hadn’t.

The whole thing was almost over by the time they’d arrived—no doubt generating new town gossip with their sudden presence. They’d danced to the last five songs, grabbed a papier-mâché clouds-and-rainbow souvenir off one of the tables, and then headed up to Make-Out Ridge, where they’d talked for hours—mainly about Sonny, but about other things, too, like family and friends and future plans.

And, of course, they’d kissed. A lot.

“I like that one best,” Daphne said, pointing at a photo of Gabby laughing.

“Please don’t touch it,” Gabby said. “Your fingers are sticky.”

She made sure her tone wasn’t all that scolding. For one thing, Gabby loved that photo, too. (What had she been laughing at? She couldn’t remember. She’d been giddy practically the whole night.) And for another thing, Daphne was messy for good reason. She’d been making her famous camp cookies all morning, which was why her hands were buttery, and why she’d somehow managed to get a smudge of flour on the tip of her nose. The whole house smelled amazing.

Just then the doorbell rang and everyone traded wide-eyed stares.

“He’s already here? But I’m not done with the cookies yet!” Daphne ran back into the kitchen.

“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Rivera said. She walked to the door and opened it wide. “Hi, Mule.”

“Hi, Mrs. Rivera. Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Gabby’s in the living room.”

“Uh … great. I’m actually here to—”

“And Daphne’s busy baking,” Gabby said as she walked up behind her mom.

“Cool. Thanks, Gab.” Mule grinned his lopsided grin and headed for the kitchen.

Her mom shook her head. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m still not used to …”

“I know,” Gabby said. She watched as Mule loped up beside Daphne, who was busy dropping another row of cookies onto a baking pan, and gave her a playful nudge. Daphne nudged him back and the two of them started making lovey-dovey gazes at each other. Gabby turned away.

It still hurt to share him. But she could honestly say Mule was good for her sister. Daphne had woken up early the day
before to help straighten up the house for Mom’s return. She’d even found the time to make a cheerleader-like
WELCOME HOME
banner to hang across the porch. And today, cookies. Perhaps the girl was finally growing up? Or maybe she was trying to look older and more responsible for Mule? Either way, Gabby would take it.

The doorbell rang, and once again, everyone froze.

“
Now
he’s here,” Daphne said.

Mrs. Rivera reopened the door. “Hi, Ernesto,” she said. “Come in.”

“Thanks, Lizzie,” Mr. Rivera said, stepping into the living room. “How was Atlanta?”

“Fantastic.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, chuckling. “You look … good. Really good.”

Mrs. Rivera smiled. “Thanks. So do you. How’s Sheila?”

Her voice quavered ever so slightly on the name, and Gabby again felt the familiar impulse to rush over to her and shield her. But looking more closely, she saw no cause for alarm. No furrowed brow, no raised eyebrow, no crossed arms. Instead, there was real tenderness in her gaze.

She realized at that moment just how strong her mother was. And she’d never felt more proud of her.

“She’s good. Thanks,” her dad replied, seeming equally touched.

Her mom nodded. “Well, I’ll let you all visit. I have a big presentation to prepare for.” She headed for her bedroom, leaving Gabby and her father smiling awkwardly at one another.

“Hi,
mija
,” said her dad. His body was angled backward, as if poised to duck or run at any sign of attack.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said. “You want to sit down?”

“Sure. Hey,
mijita.
” His smile widened as he stepped farther into the living room and caught sight of Daphne in the kitchen. “Hi, Mule.”

“Hi, Mr. Rivera.”

Daphne blew him a kiss over the cookie dough. “Just a second, okay? We’re almost done with this batch and then I’ll wash up.” She held up her butter-and-sugar-streaked hands. Gabby noticed that Mule now had a matching white dot of flour on his nose.

“Okay. I’ll wait.” Mr. Rivera shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered around the living room, looking over the furniture, the bouncy new carpet, the framed photos on the walls. “Wow. This place is nice. Really nice.”

Gabby felt a stab of guilt upon realizing that this was the first time her father had seen the inside of their new home. She wouldn’t even let him off the porch when he’d come by.

Now he was acting nervous and overly polite. Like a stranger—a door-to-door vacuum-cleaner salesman. There he was, standing in his daughters’ house, and he felt no sense of belonging or welcome.

“Dad? Could I talk to you for a second?” Gabby asked. “In private?”

He glanced back at her, and Gabby could see guilt and dread come over his face.

“Sure,” he said.

She motioned for him to follow and stepped outside onto the porch. Together they stood on the south end, facing the
sloped yard of the manor, their elbows resting on the white wooden railing.

“Listen, um … I’ve been doing some thinking,” Gabby began. “I’ve been mad for the longest time. Mad at you. Mad at me. Mad at the whole damn world. But … I realize that it doesn’t do any good. I don’t want to be angry anymore.” She paused, waiting for her thoughts to organize themselves into coherent words.

“Sweetheart,” he said.

“No, please. Let me finish.” She held up a hand, silencing him. “What I want to say is … I forgive you for all that stuff I blamed you for. At least, I’m trying to. You deserve to find happiness. And I guess … so do I.”

She looked at him, taking in his familiar handsome face. That thick, dark hair that never seemed to get messed up. The crop of whiskers on his chin and cheeks that always made her and Daphne squeal when he kissed them goodnight. The crinkles around his eyes caused by his ever-present easygoing smile. Her daddy.

“Okay. I’m done. Now you can talk,” she said with a chuckle.

“
Ay, que bonita
. It’s so good to see you smile,” he said, gently pinching her left cheek with his rough, callused fingers. His eyes were glazed with tears, but he was grinning his typical grin. “You know, sweetheart,” he said, “my home might not be here, but you and your sister … you two are my happiness.”

Tears sprang to Gabby’s eyes, blurring his face. For the first time in her memory, everything seemed to be in its proper
place. Things weren’t perfect, but they were manageable. Hopeful, even.

“Hey, um … I know I said I didn’t want to anymore, but … can I go with you and Daphne today?” she asked, feeling suddenly shy.

Her dad’s lips quivered as he nodded. “I’d like that very much,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He scooped her up in a tight, strongman-type hug, but Gabby could still feel him shudder with emotion, and he kept clearing his throat. After a while he let her go and pretended to stare at the rosebushes as he wiped the tears from his bristly cheeks.

They leaned back against the railing. Gabby took in the view as her dad composed himself. She knew he didn’t like to cry in front of anyone, including family. Neither did she. In some ways, they really were a lot alike.

Soon Daphne came out and joined them. “Okay, I’m ready to go,” she said, leaning forward to kiss their dad. “Mule said he’d take this batch out of the oven for me.”

“Guess what?” Mr. Rivera said, grinning broadly. “Your sister is going to join us.”

Daphne’s eyes seemed to double in size. She glanced from him to Gabby and back again. “Really? Oh, my gosh, that’s great!” Suddenly she clapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, no!”

“What?” their dad asked.

“I just remembered I have to finish some make-up work for Ms. Manbeck. It’s due first thing on Monday and I still have a lot to do. Oh, darn. Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

Gabby held back a laugh. Her sister really was a terrible
actress. Mule had already told her Daphne was caught up in Manbeck’s class; that was one reason why he was over, to claim his cookies for helping her bring up her grade. This could only mean Daphne was trying to give her and Dad some time alone together.

Maybe she really is growing up
, Gabby thought.

“That’s all right,
mija
,” Dad said. “Like I always say, school is important.”

“I’ll give you some cookies when you all get back. And we’ll do something extrafun on the next visit. Plus …” Daphne looked down at her sandals. “… maybe you could introduce us to Sheila sometime?”

Mr. Rivera’s features stretched in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want to meet her. I want to make sure she’s taking good care of you.”

He smiled and folded her up in his arms. “I love you, baby girl,” he said softly.

“I love you, too, Dad,” Daphne said. Turning toward Gabby, she added, “You guys have fun. Okay?” Then she flounced back into the house, leaving behind a trail of sugar and a whiff of vanilla extract.

“So …” Their dad clapped his hands together. “What do you want to do today? Not bowling or barbecue, right?”

Gabby thought for a moment. “I know. Let’s go split a hot-fudge sundae at Quick’s and then walk around downtown.”

“So I can show off my lovely girl?”

“No,” she said, linking her arm around his. “So I can show off my dad.”