Goose in the Pond - Earlene Fowler [115]
But now, at midnight, the back room was full of students. They always took over after the nine o’clock dinner crowd. Their high, excited chatter struck a familiar chord. I experienced a few all-night study marathons here myself when I was preparing for finals at Cal Poly. Even Gabe held a place in my memories of Liddie’s. The first time we kissed was in the parking lot on a cold moonless night last November.
I slipped into an unoccupied booth, ordered coffee, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. My mind whirled with thoughts about what had just taken place between me and Gabe. How close to the edge was he? Should I go back? Should I call someone? Who? His grief was so deep and unreachable I felt powerless. I remembered how three days before Aaron died, he had tried to prepare me for this.
“Benni, come sit over here,” he’d said, patting his hospital bed with a weak hand. He’d sent his wife, Rachel, and Gabe on a manufactured errand so he could talk to me alone. His red hair was sparse and pale from the chemotherapy treatments, but his smile was as warm as always. I’d never known Aaron until he was sick, and could only imagine the huge, deep-chested man who, according to his delighted telling, could pin Gabe to the ground no matter how much Gabe worked out at the gym.
“I’m going to get right to the point,” Aaron said. “When I go, Gabe’s going to be in tough shape. You’re going to have to be strong.”
“I know,” I replied, taking his hand in mine.
“I’m not sure you do. Gabe’s had a lot of hurt in his life. He keeps things inside too much and then explodes in unpredictable ways. You have to be ready for that. But he’s a good man. A man I’ve been honored to call my friend.” A coughing spell interrupted his words.
“Aaron, he’s going to be all right. I’ll make sure of it.”
He studied me with sad brown eyes. Eyes that had seen a lot of the same pain as Gabe. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
I smiled and rubbed his icy hand, trying to massage some of my own warmth into it. “We’d have never gotten married if it hadn’t been for you. You’re the one who convinced us that waiting is crazy in this unpredictable world. I’m glad we listened.”
He chuckled softly. “I knew if you and Gabe didn’t get hitched fast, he’d pussyfoot around until someone else snatched you up. I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“Our own personal Tevye,” I teased. “We didn’t have a chance.”
We sat for a moment without talking. He squeezed my hand gently. “My little shiksa cowgirl,” he said. “Don’t give up on my buddy, okay? Promise me. No matter how hard it gets?”
I leaned over and kissed his dry, rough cheek. “I promise, Tevye.”
“He said you’d be here.” A voice interrupted the scene in my head.
I lifted my head and blinked my eyes under the golden glare of the overhead light. Jim Cleary slid into the seat across from me. The waitress was there in seconds with a steaming pot of coffee. He poured cream into the thick white mug and stirred it, his black eyes watching me with a quiet scrutiny I was growing used to since being married to a cop.
“What are you doing here?” I finally asked, reaching for my coffee. It had gotten cold, but I took a deep drink anyway.
“Gabe called me.”
“He did?” I wondered how much he told him.
“He said he was in no shape to drive, that he’d been drinking, that you’d had a fight, and you’d taken his car keys and his gun.”
I nodded silently, surprised at Gabe’s honesty.
“Good girl,” Jim said, and sipped his coffee.
“Is he all right?”
“Yes, he said he’s just going to sleep it off now. Gabe’s not a foolish man, Benni. He handled it exactly how I would have.”
“Not exactly,” I said, tearing my paper napkin into strips.