Gabriella Ch. 06

Ella's young mind had made up all of these stories for why her mother was absent. Maybe she was a vampire. She would go on killing sprees during the night time, mainly targeting men for her father mistreating her. Or maybe she was a prostitute. They also worked at night. Ella conjured up so many stories over the years, but by her teens she stopped caring. It was just a part of life.

In high school, Ella's 'bad girl' friends thought she was the luckiest girl on the planet. A mom who wasn't home equaled full debauchery. But what they didn't realize is it got old quickly. She would bring a guy home, they would screw and then he would leave. She would sit in her room until hours later when her mom came home. But there was never any discussion about who was in and out of their apartment, because the guys she slept with all had curfews, so getting in trouble wasn't even an option.

But that was all before Simon. When he came into the picture, he had been the one who suggested—or demanded rather, they do things as a family much to Ella's dismay. That first year, she had hated it. She would ignore his questions about what she had done in school or her plans for the weekend, still upset that her mother had dragged this stranger into their life.

And now she couldn't imagine her life without him. Who else would give a shit?

Ella glanced back down at her phone. Nolan was calling again. She reached into the bag of chips before she felt lips on the back of her neck.

"What the—" she started, before Nolan sat down beside her.

"So, you were ignoring my calls." He was smiling, but his voice held an air of hurt.

"I'm sorry. It's just been a shitty day. I was going to call you back when I wasn't Debbie downer."

He stole a chip. "What's wrong?"

Ella shook her head. "Nothing. Just issues with my mom and Simon. I'll get over it."

"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay." Nolan took another chip before pinching her leg. "So, do you want to talk about you being my girlfriend?"

Ella looked up at him. She had forgotten about that call.

He leaned closer to her, his green eyes sparkling. "Yeah, I may have been passed out, but I do remember you saying you would be my girlfriend."

Now wasn't the time she wanted to talk about diving into a relationship, especially since she had no practice in that area. She balled the empty bag up and tossed it aside. "Yeah, I remember."

A tall guy with dark chocolate skin and a muscular build walked by. "Sup, Nolan?" he said, as he slung his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

Nolan gave a nod, before turning his attention back to her. He leaned in even closer, as he pushed her hair from her shoulder. "So, did you mean it?"

Ella had hoped the good-looking black guy would come back to their table and strike up a conversation with Nolan so she could have more time to think. But he walked right by and playfully pushed a tanned blonde girl out of the way. The girl dropped her bag and chased him out of the cafeteria. Ella tried to keep her eyes on the couple but she knew Nolan was waiting for an answer. Waiting and hoping. She knew all too well how it felt. The look on his face poked at her conscience. If only she hadn't driven to campus last night.

"Um, yeah. I mean, if you wanted to," she said. At this point in her life, Nolan was the only one in her corner. She couldn't bear to hurt him.

"Yep. Been wanting that for a long time," he stated with a smile before he pulled her in for a kiss.

She stopped him. "Don't you think I look just tragic today?"

He stared into her eyes. "No."

"Liar. You didn't even—"

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they began a make-out session in the middle of the university cafeteria. She remained connected to his lips as her eyes scanned the room. Much like she had watched the playful couple, now everyone was watching them.

**********

Patricia

Patricia peered over the top of her cubicle to Sam's office. He looked like a corporate Humpty Dumpty as he mindlessly swiveled in his chair, bragging about a golf score. By day's end, the work he was supposed to be doing would find its way to someone else's desk. He almost managed to sound happy. That was a side he never displayed directly to Patricia. She only caught glimpses of it when their bonus checks came in and when Megan, the office bimbo intern flirted with him.

Even though her job title was Junior Researcher, Patricia felt more like the glorified assistant to the office prick. She reached into her drawer to pull out some thumbtacks, shaking her head at how much she hated her career path. A path she was still confused about.

"Ow!" She glanced down at her thumb as a small red dot appeared. "Mother—"

"Fucker," Myra finished, leaning over the cubicle wall.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Myra popped her chewing gum. "But I knew you wouldn't have given it a proper ending. You would have said 'mother humper' or some Disney rated version of 'fucker'." And Myra would be right. Just not for the reason she thought. Patricia refrained from using obscene language not because she was a prude but because she had heard a lifetime's worth by age twelve.

Patricia rubbed her temples. "Well forgive me for not having a potty mouth."

"You're forgiven, Snow White. But trust me, the world will feel more liberating when you let out a 'fuck-shit-Goddamn it. I mean it."

Patricia shoved her keyboard aside and rested her head on her desk. "I'll take your word for it."

"What's wrong?"

"My life sucks."

Sam's annoying laugh filled the air as he bragged about what a great sportsman he was.

"No, I read about this woman who lost her husband to cancer, her son in Iraq and her other son to a drunk driver all in the same month. I mean, damn...her life sucks. Your life is just kinda, at a down point."

Patricia lifted her head. "You're right."

Myra smiled. "Aren't I always?"

The clicking of keyboards and the ringing of phones usually drowned out the outside world. Work had always been an escape, almost like walking into Hades' Lair. Sure it was hell, but at least it was another place. But today had been different. The only thing that occupied her mind was Simon and Ella, and the broken pieces that she had yet to pick up.

"I kicked him out."

Myra nodded and sat on her desk. "For how long?"

"I don't know. I mean, he's the one who did wrong, so why do I feel like I'm being punished? It was miserable without him in the house. I didn't know what to do with myself."

Myra checked out her nails. "Where was Ella?"

Patricia shrugged. "I don't know. I think she was at home when I went to bed. But you know, she's been spending a lot of time with this new guy."

Myra nodded again. "Well, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I miss him, Myra. I love him so much but I'm so confused. I feel like every step I take is a step in the wrong direction."

Myra abruptly stood. "Come on, let's grab a drink."

Patricia glanced around. "Are you kidding, it's eleven in the morning. I only had coffee for breakfast and besides, you know how Sam is."

"Fuck him. He's an asshole."

"I know, but that a-hole still signs my checks."

"Okay, I'll fix this. Go to his office and pretend to ask him something."

"What?"

Myra pulled Patricia up and shoved her towards his door. "Just ask him something," she said, giving her one more push into Sam's office.

She glanced back but Myra was standing off to the side. She waved her on.

Patricia turned her attention back to Sam. He was typing furiously as if the keys would conceal his work ethic. He glanced at her and sighed. "Yeah?"

"Sam... I was just. Well, you know those graphics that we used on the—"

"Patricia!" Myra screamed.

Patricia jumped and let out a small cry.

"Oh my God, I'm glad I found you. Your daughter's school said they've been trying to reach you. Ella is really sick and has been throwing up for the past hour. They've basically quarantined her in the nurses' station."

Patricia stared at Myra as if she had lost her mind. "What are you—" Myra's eyes narrowed. "Oh! Oh, my God, I should go pick her up, right?"

"Um, yeah...they don't want her there."

"What's going on? Your child is sick?"

Both women turned to Sam.

Patricia nodded. "Uh, yeah, apparently my daughter is really ill. I should go pick her up."

"I hope it's not contagious, or like that flu that everyone has been getting," Myra added, shivering with disgust. "I heard it takes weeks to fully recover from it."

Sam's eyes honed in on Patricia. "Yes, please leave and if she's still sick, don't even think about coming in tomorrow. I have an important tournament this weekend and I don't want you or your daughter's germs infecting me so I can't play."

"Of course, Sam. If she's still ill, I'll sit at home with her. Thanks. I'll be on blackberry for the rest of the day."

Sam turned his attention back to the monitor.

Patricia and Myra rushed off like two giddy school girls. When they reached the elevators they burst into laughter.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you did that," Patricia said. "And next time, give me a little warning, will ya?"

Myra laughed. "Okay, next time we'll script it out."

"How did you know he'd buy it?"

"Well, one, he probably didn't even know you had a kid until just now because he's an asshole and I'm sure he wouldn't have known how old she was. So, I used the oldest excuse in the book."

"Smart woman. Can you take off now? What about Dave?"

"Please, Dave knows better than to come at me like that. When I need a moment, I need a moment or else he'd get cursed the-fuck-out in Spanish. So, he always just says, "Okay."

When they pulled up at Teddy's, Patricia fought hard not to say anything about Myra choosing her normal date spot with Simon and the scene of their first discussion of infidelity.

Patricia stared down at the menu. "It's not even noon yet, we can't drink."

"Sure we can, we'll just do Mimosas. Plus, why do you care, you don't have to go back to work, lucky bitch."

Patricia cocked her head. "This is true. One Mimosa it is."

Myra leaned back in her seat. "So, talk to me, what are you feeling?"

Patricia focused on the lines in the wooden table before she spoke. "I don't know. I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I believe he loves me, and I know I love him, so why can't I just let it work?"

"That's simple. Because he cheated."

Patricia nodded. "I know. I feel myself changing though and I hate it."

Myra dived into her drink as soon as the waiter placed it down. "What do you mean?"

"Like, whenever he's on the phone, I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to be one of those women who are so insecure and paranoid, that they search through their husbands email and call log. Or follow them. I want to be able to trust him again. And I think I do, I'm just still hurt. I slowly feel myself going crazy."

"But I think what you're feeling is natural though. Those were some of the feelings I was having with Carlos. Well, mine were a little more homicidal, but still, I was hurt and confused."

"How did you cope with it?"

"A punching bag with his picture taped to it."

Patricia laughed. "Okay, well I'm not ready to take up boxing just yet."

Myra sipped her drink. "Hey, if it helps."

"I know. But I try not to let it bother me. I mean, everyone gets cheated on, right? My father cheated on my mother...heck, I don't have any girlfriends who haven't been cheated on. You included. Maybe it was ridiculous to think that it wasn't going to happen."

"Oh please!" Myra said loudly, slamming her hand down on the table. She was perhaps already a little buzzed. "Expecting your husband to keep his dick to himself after you're married isn't asking for a lot. Don't sell yourself short."

"I know, but with Facebook and Myspace and all of these high-tech ways to meet people, I mean cheating is just running rampant. Did you know there were sites that are run by matchmakers who specifically hook up people who want to cheat on their spouses? What the hell? Does no one respect the institution of marriage anymore?"

"Least of all men. You know what I think? I think it's hanging around that friend of his too much. What's his name...Steven? Didn't you say he had a chronic case of bacheloritis?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go."

Patricia diverted her attention behind Myra. "That guy keeps staring over here."

"What guy?" Myra asked loudly, as she scanned the room.

"Don't look now," Patricia whispered. A man in a business suit kept glancing in her direction when he wasn't sipping from a lowball glass. She smoothed one side of her hair behind her ear. Patricia glanced back at him again and he smiled.

Myra turned around anyway. "Oh geez, he looks like a douche bag."

"Myra, why don't you go lesbian already since you hate men so much?"

"Lesbians don't hate men. Actually, they like them, they just prefer not to sleep with them. I on the other hand hate men, but very much enjoy sleeping with them. What does that make me?"

"A feminist?"

They both cracked up.

Patricia tried to compose herself as her eyes shifted to the man again. He threw back the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the bar before slowly walking over.

"Oh my God, he's coming over here."

"Whoopty doo," Myra said while tipping her drink up.

"Hey ladies, mind if I join you?" His voice was a little higher pitched than Patricia expected but he was still a very attractive man. Although he did look like a shark in a suit, with slicked back hair and a smirk. A modern Gordon Gekko protégé, but Patricia felt daring. So what, she could have drinks with a stranger. After all, Simon was had slept with someone else. Drinks were harmless compared to that.

She flashed him a smile. "Sure."

"Thanks." He sat down, glancing at Myra before turning his attention back to Patricia. "I'm Nigel. And you are...?"

"Patricia. And this is my friend Myra."

Myra was practically leaning on the table as she stuck her hand out. Nigel quickly shook it.

"You ladies work around here?" The question was directed at both of them, but his eyes never left Patricia as he gave her a subtle onceover.

"Yeah, just down the street at Clemmon's Communication. The market research company."

"Oh yeah, I've heard of it. Well, what are two pretty young things like you doing here so early in the day?"

Patricia felt the tip of Myra's heel knick her shin. She winced in pain before she spoke. "Um, just chatting. Having an early lunch."

"Analyzing why men are douche bags," Myra piped in. "Hey, you're a man...why is that?"

Patricia kicked Myra back. Nigel's mouth opened as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Oh, are you two together?"

"No!"

"Yes."

"No, we're not," Patricia chimed in again.

Myra smiled. "I was just messing with you, Nick."

"Nigel."

"Yep," Myra said as she sipped her drink. "I'm going to the bathroom." She stood up and walked away.

Patricia shook her head. "I'm sorry, she's not usually like that."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," he said with a laugh.

Patricia chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So, maybe I could call your office and we could have a quick lunch together or something."

"I—I'm not sure." Patricia was in new territory. It had been ages since she had been on a date with someone other than her husband. Even before Simon, she let work consume her life, just accepting the fact that she would never marry.

But now that she was with Nigel, instead of feeling exciting, she started feeling anxious.

"Here's my card," he said, sliding a cream colored card across the table. Nigel Maloney, Esq.

"You're an attorney?" she asked, slipping the card into her purse.

"Yeah, don't hold it against me."

Patricia smiled. "No, I wouldn't."

"You have a beautiful smile."

Patricia wanted to smile, but his compliment seemed like a line. Especially since his eyes had drifted to her legs. She had a quick flash of herself having sex with the slicked haired attorney and her stomach turned. His hand rubbing over her body, his sweat dripping onto her as he fed her more cheesy lines. She felt nauseous.

"Excuse me," Patricia said, standing up. "I should find out what's taking my friend so long."

"Oh, okay." He stood. "Um, maybe I can pick you up tomorrow at Clemmon's?"

"I don't think—" Patricia started, before she noticed the faint pale band of skin at the base of his ring finger. Where a ring obviously had been.

Her head shot up. "Are you married?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Are you married?" Patricia demanded in a harsh tone.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. "Well, my wife and I have a complicated relationship, so—"

"I'm sure it's not that freaking complicated." Patricia turned to leave, but felt him grip her arm.

"Wait a second. You're wearing a ring too." His eyes shifted to her hand.

Patricia glanced down at the thin gold band. Maybe Nigel had a point. Perhaps it all was more complicated than she thought. Almost three years ago when Simon slipped the ring on her finger at a small quiet ceremony, she never could have imagined that he would cheat on her. Or that she'd be in their favorite spot contemplating sleeping with another man.

Or maybe everyone made things complicated when they didn't have to be. Life could be simple if you wanted it to be.

She handed Nigel's card back. "Bye," she said, before heading to the restroom to find Myra.

Simple enough.

***

Patricia avoided all eye contact with the students as she walked down the corridors of Grayson Hall, although she did do a double take every time a blonde girl passed, making her wonder if that was elusive Sarah.

She knocked on Simon's door. No answer. She knocked again before slowly opening the door. There, she had given him more than enough warning in case there was something on the other side of the door that she didn't want to witness.

The coast was clear. She closed the door behind her and set her purse on the couch. As soon as she dropped Myra back at work, she had driven around in circles until she ended up at Darby.

She did a full inspection of his office. Stacks of papers sat piled on his desk. Everything looked in place until she noticed a small black coat neatly folded and resting on the arm of his sofa. Too small to be his. She swallowed hard before she examined it.

It was Ella's. She was sure of it, although she thought Ella had worn it home last night when Nolan dropped her off. She folded the jacket and placed it back on the sofa.

She sat down behind his desk in his squeaky office chair. When she slid it across the floor, the idea that Sarah once sat in this chair made Patricia jump up out of it.

She was being paranoid. Or was she?

Her curiosity insisted she check the drawer that opened this nightmare. She slowly opened them one by one, saving the drawer that held the condoms for last. But she only found office supplies. What he had done with them?

Patricia shook her head. She was here to make amends not make things worse. Hopefully he had confessed the worst. She wanted to reach the place where she could forgive him and move on.

She heard a knock on the door.

"Professor Graham!" the female voice shouted.

Patricia tensed. The fact that Simon met with students throughout the day right here every day rarely crossed her mind. One in particular who needed more than to talk about test scores and grades.

The door slung open and a tall girl in tight denim pants and a fitted gray shirt that read 'Volley or Die' on it walked through the door. And she was blonde.