Page 36 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘I wasn’t sure I’d be much company, if I’m honest. It wasn’t exactly the best day I’ve ever had at work.’
‘Oh, Gabe. I’m so sorry to hear that.’ I wasn’t exactly sure what else to say. Bearing in mind his line of work, I imagined his bad day was far, far worse than a lot of people’s when they said the same thing.
‘Thanks.’
‘Would you like a tea, or coffee?’
‘Tea would be lovely, thanks.’
I flicked on the kettle to boil and pulled a couple of mugs from the cupboard. ‘I made chocolate muffins too, so if you fancy continuing in your capacity as guinea pig, you’re very welcome.’
I was glad to see the smile return, although it wasn’t reaching his eyes this evening as it usually did. ‘You definitely know how to cheer a bloke up. Sounds great.’
‘OK, here,’ I said, handing him the tin I’d put the muffins in. ‘Take these into the living room and help yourself. I’ll bring the drinks through in a minute.’ He followed my instructions and a few minutes later, when I came through with the tray of drinks, Gabe was just finishing one of the muffins.
‘Well?’ I asked, watching his face.
‘So, so good. Would it be really rude to have another?’
‘No!’ I laughed, holding the tin out to him. ‘Seriously, the more you eat, the less I do, so that works really well for me actually.’
I opened the patio doors in there too and we sat watching the twilight deepen as stars gradually began to glisten against the darkness of the sky.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Gabe looked round at me from where he sat next to me on the pale pink, squashy sofa. ‘I would, yes. Thank you. But maybe not today.’
I nodded, accepting his answer. To be honest, I’d surprised myself a little with the suggestion. Not because I didn’t want to be a listening ear, but because of the subject. I wasn’t exactly known for my stellar abilities at dealing with stuff, especially loss, but all of that seemed far less important than trying to do something to lessen the sadness in those striking blue eyes.
He shifted position. ‘I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful. Or like I’m trying to shut you out?’
‘Not at all.’ And it didn’t. Gabe knew the offer was there, but right now he needed time in his own head to process whatever it was that had happened. That made perfect sense to me.
‘That was kind of one of the reasons me and Rebecca broke up. Oh, Rebecca is the psychiatrist I mentioned,’ he added.
‘Yes, I remember.’
Did I commiserate here? God, I hadn’t realised just how bad I’d got at socialising. Or had I in fact always been this bad and, with one thing and another, never really taken the time to notice?
‘She was kind of keen on the whole talking thing.’
‘I imagine it’s a bit of an occupational hazard for her.’
‘Yeah, I think you’re right,’ he said, as he began unwrapping a second muffin. ‘And it is good to talk about stuff. I’m totally up for that. Bottling stuff up really doesn’t work and just makes it all so much worse. But she wanted me to talk about it immediately and felt that, because she was asking in a girlfriend capacity, rather than a work capacity, when I said I wasn’t ready, well … she sometimes took it personally. Like I didn’t want to talk to her, when the fact was I was still processing stuff in my own head.’
‘I’m sorry. Maybe … maybe if you explained that to her …’ I didn’t exactly know where I was going with this.
He shook his head anyway. ‘Nah, it wasn’t just that. Besides she’s happy with another guy now. Psychologist.’
‘Right. I bet they talk a lot then.’
Gabe’s laugh was a joy to hear, and it made my heart lighter to see that some of the tension he’d carried earlier in his shoulders had begun to dissipate, and a tiny glimpse of the usual sparkle in his eyes shyly showed itself.
‘I imagine they do.’
‘But you’re OK with it?’
‘Totally. It was ages ago now anyway. Like most things that don’t work out, it’s rarely for one single reason. And thankfully, we managed to be grown-ups about it and stay friends, which made our working relationship so much easier than it would have been.’
