Page 34 of Michael
Michael
I sit in my truck,my head spinning in a daze. Vacations have always been like this. I can only remember so many days of endless nothingness before I find myself feeling restless and irritable. Amanda spent the night, and it was amazing having her home, but that morning I made the mistake of dropping her off too early.
I wanted to take her out to dinner, to give her one last night of joy before she had to return to her own life and I to mine. But somehow, I lacked the courage to speak the words. And now, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve messed up and missed on a great opportunity.
I open the glove compartment and take out a box of gum, when I come across the hospital’s keycard. It takes me back to that moment when I found her in the basement... “Fuck, fuck!” I should have said something.
I pull over in the driveway, and without hesitating, I step out of the car and walk to the door.
I’m standing in front of a beautiful home in Venice Beach. It’s been a while since I last visited this place, and yet it still manages to take my breath away. The peaceful canal’s waters gently crashing against the shore and a quiet breeze rustling through the trees fill my ears with wonder and bliss.
My heart is beating fast as I ring the doorbell, anticipation coursing through my veins. After what seems like an eternity, I hear footsteps coming from inside. The door opens and there she is—Gabrielle—looking just as beautiful as ever.
The look on her face tells me she’s just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. We stand there for what feels like forever, neither of us knowing what to say or do next. Finally, my sister breaks the silence.
“It’s been so long,” she says. “What brings you here, Michael?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, breaking the silence and filling the space between us with my apology. “I was brash and insensitive when I called you a traitor for not taking up the practice as we all did.”
Gabrielle nods, her expression softening with understanding. “And judgmental,” she adds knowingly.
I bite my lip in acknowledgment. “When I planned on setting up the clinic, I did it thinking we could do it together—the four of us.”
There’s a pause before she speaks again. “And we did,” she explains, leaning against the jamb. Her big blue eyes widen slightly in disbelief. “I designed the entire thing, Michael.”
“I know...” I lower my head, embarrassed by my actions and wanting to make amends. When I meet her gaze again, I add, “And you did an amazing job at it too.”
A small smile appears on Gabrielle’s lips as she listens to my words of appreciation.
She steps aside and gestures for me to enter the house. I take off my shoes at the door, out of respect for her hospitality, and make my way into the living room, which is filled with warm colors and comfortable furniture. Gabrielle offers me a seat on the couch as she takes a seat across from me in an armchair.
We sit there for a few moments, neither of us quite sure what to say. Finally, after some time has passed, Gabrielle speaks up.
“So,” she says softly. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since we last spoke.”
I talk about my work at the hospital and also about how I’m keeping up with our brothers Uri and Rafa.
Gabrielle smiles as she hangs on to my every word. Then she tells me her story—how she’s working on her own remodeling projects while attending art school on the side. Before I know it, we’ve been talking for hours, both of us so caught up in the conversation that we don’t even realize how much time has passed until our stomachs start growling.
Laughing at our hunger pangs, Gabrielle suggests that we head out to the deck for something to eat. We make ourselves some sandwiches from leftovers in her fridge and then wander outside where we enjoy them while admiring the beautiful view of the canal in front of us.
“I hear you’re gambling with demons?” I summon the courage to say.
Gabrielle’s eyes widen, then she looks away and sighs. “Yes. I am,” she admits reluctantly.
“Is everything okay, sis?” I ask as gently as possible.
She takes a deep breath before speaking. “It’s complicated,” she says carefully. “Things have been pretty good lately, but...” She pauses for a moment, her gaze drifting out to the canal. “It’s like I can’t help but take risks.”
I take a sip of my beer and nod in understanding. Gambling is an addiction—one that can be hard to break free from—but I want Gabrielle to know that I’m here for her if she ever needs me.
“Do you need any help?” I ask softly.
Gabrielle shakes her head and smiles sadly at me. “No, it’s okay,” she says firmly. “I’ve got this.” She stretches her arms over her head before turning back to me with a wry smile on her face. “I’ve only gambled with one demon recently, and he goes by the name of Richard Emmert.”
“Yeah. That’s him.” Every inch of me goes taut with fury as I remember the motherfucker.
“Okay, so what’s this about?” she asks, intrigued.
