Gabriel entered the dimly lit room. Machinery whirred and blipped. His sweet grandmother lay in a nest of wires and tubes, her silver hair a frothy halo around her head.
She looked so frail, this woman who’d raised him with an iron fist. She’d wiped his nose, swatted his behind when he misbehaved, and soothed his fears when the nightmares had threatened to overwhelm him.
She’d been his rock, his fuel, backing him up in his crazy dreams of stardom until they became a reality.
Touring had been bittersweet, having to leave her behind, until tonight.
Guilt assailed him as he approached her. Always accustomed to seeing her so strong, it felt so wrong seeing her here now…like this.
Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the startling blue within. She blinked them closed again and smiled weakly.
“Mijo,” she sighed in Spanish, calling him son, as she always did.
He took his baseball cap off, tossing it on the unoccupied chair to the right of the bed and bent over the railing. Gripping the hand she offered, he gave her a kiss on her pale cheek.
“Save your strength, ma,” he whispered. “You’re going to need it. I got another tattoo.”
Her eyes snapped open, her lips pressing into a scowl.
Ah. There was the old girl he knew and loved.
Gabriel smirked. She’d thrown a fit the first time he’d gotten ink. Of course, most likely it was because he’d only been sixteen at the time.
Since then, he’d sleeved both arms, had wings inked into his back, as well as started some fancy scrollwork across his chest.
Straightening up, he lifted his black t-shirt, exposing his belly button.
His newest addition, a black lined tribal in the shape of a sun surrounded the scar of the long ago severed connection to his mother.
His grandmother’s frown faltered.
“And what does this one mean, mijito?” she asked sadly.
Gabriel looked at her through the fall of jet-black hair that had slid over his shoulder to cover half his face.
“A black sun. It’s me. So different from you and my parents.”
He had a picture of his mother. She’d been blond and blue-eyed, just like his grandmother. Apparently, they had ancestors that hailed from the Netherlands before settling into Spain. His father, Brendan Brinks had also been blond and blue-eyed, but neither Gabriel or his grandmother ever mentioned him.
“You look so much like your father,” she said in a soft voice.
Gabriel’s head snapped up, giving her a perplexed stare. Maybe her meds were confusing her, but the pale blue eyes that stared at him were as sharp and lucid as ever.
“Right,” he deadpanned, blinking at her.
She scowled at him through the oxygen mask. “Don’t contradict me, Gaby.”
His eyes rounded as he shook his head, “But I di—“
She waved her hands dismissing what he was about to say. “Sit. I need to talk to you.”
“Ma, it’s late. You shouldn’t wear yourself—“
“Sit I said,” she snapped angrily, and promptly broke into a fit of coughing that had Gabriel yanking the empty chair closer to the bed.
His heart was in his throat as he gripped her hand and gaped at her. “Okay-okay, I’m sitting. Ma, please.”
About to ask her if she needed water or a nurse, she finally calmed and sighed.
He held her tiny hand in his much larger one and stroked it. She closed her eyes and breathed for a moment.
As time passed, he thought she’d drifted off to sleep.
Tears blurred his vision and he ducked his head, ashamed of his moment of weakness. He just wasn’t used to seeing her so defeated. The doctors said it was her heart. She was almost ninety years old and the prognosis wasn’t good. She was the only family he remembered ever having, the memory of his dead parents a foggy memory he only had nightmares about.
Gabriel would be completely alone if…when she died.
“I was your age when I had your aunt Paulina.”
The sound of her speaking again startled him and he gripped her hand tighter. She never spoke of his auntie Paulina. That was even more taboo than talking about his dad, Brendan Brinks.
“She was such a beautiful child, but your grandfather’s family spoiled her rotten. She looked just like Francisco, bless his soul. Right down to his dark brown eyes.”
She looked lost in her own thoughts, a smile playing about her thin lips. He petted her hand some more and listened intently. Whatever she had to say was obviously important if she was dredging up the memory of his aunt Paulina and grandfather.
“Five years later I had your mother. She looked more like me. Of course your great grandmother wasn’t too pleased about that and always favored Paulina. Rosalina never let that bother her. She was such a good soul, that one. Always putting others before herself. She was good and self sacrificing, always. It’s what won Daniel Montenegro over.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Who?’
His grandmother continued as if not hearing him. “He was a fancy rich man, tried to seduce her as she attended him in the hospital. She’d been a nurse back then, but never fell for his playboy ways.” The old woman laughed. “Ah, but he was persistent. He wooed her for almost half a year. By the time she finally let him kiss her for the first time, the man was head over heels for her. They dated a while and he proposed quickly. Rosalina brought him home and he sure was a looker. Had Paulina green with envy.” Her expression grew angry. “That one…always with an eye for the rich ones. Daniel was both filthy rich and sexy as the devil.”
“Ma, are you talking about the Daniel Montenegro, owner and CEO of North Star Records?”
“I’m talking about…” she began to cough again, flailing her hands at him when he stood to adjust her oxygen mask.
A nurse walked in and rushed to her side. “Anna Maria, you shouldn’t tire yourself by talking so much,” she scolded gently adjusting the amount of meds dripping into the IV.
His grandmother glared at the girl, but the nurse had eyes only for Gabriel.
Gabriel frowned. He was used to women fawning over him, but didn’t enjoy it when their attention should be centered on his grandmother.
Anna Maria Arroyo’s eyes fluttered closed after a few seconds and Gabriel knew a moment of panic.
“Ma?’ he held her hand tighter, “What’s wrong with her.”
“It’s just a sedative,” the nurse, whose nametag read Amber, said with an over bright smile.
His grandmother was squeezing his hand again. He looked down at her. She was whispering something.
“I’m right here,” he said softly, leaning in close.
“The trunk in the attic. The key…it’s in that old jewelry box your grandfather made me.”
Gabriel breathed in her sweet scent. She always smelled like baby powder and rose water, only now it was mixed with the unpleasant scent of disinfectants used in the private hospital.
Again, he kissed her cheek when she sighed, sleep overtaking her.
Shaking his long hair back, he pulled his ball cap back on before grabbing the leather jacket he’d discarded on the dresser by the door.
The nurse darted in front of him, her chest sticking out provocatively as she twirled a strand of her dark blond hair around a finger.
“Don’t worry about, Anna Maria. I’ll take really good care of her.” She said as he shrugged back into his jacket..
Gabriel tipped his head to the side, licking his lips. Her eyes followed the movement hungrily. “I don’t doubt that for a moment, Amber. Thank you. She means the world to me.”
Amber’s eyes widened when he said her name. She looked as if she were about to melt into a puddle at his feet.
He gave her a lop-sided grin and walked out.
The drive to his childhood home didn’t take long. He drove out of the city into the suburbs. Quiet had descended upon the stately neighborhood with its tall oaks lining either side of the street. The night air rustled the trees as he pulled into the driveway of the two-story stone colonial. The automatic light over the garage door winked on as the door slid open. He rolled his Audi R8 Spyder into the enclosed garage and waited for the garage door to close again before stepping out. The car’s automatic security system blipped twice as he walked toward the door that would let him into the entry between the kitchen and pantry in his grandmother’s house.
Sharmane was waiting near the door wearing a loud pink fuzzy robe with matching slippers and bright green curlers in her hair.
The housekeeper’s big, dark-brown eyes blinked at him expectantly.
“How is she doing, Mr. Gabriel?’ the elderly black woman asked wringing her fingers together.
Gabriel shoved his hands in his pockets, desperate to get to that key and unlock that mysterious trunk his grandmother had mentioned. He just didn’t want to be rude to the poor woman. After all, she cared for his grandmother in his absence.
“She’s stable, Sharmane. I went straight from the airport to the hospital and talked to the doctors. They have her sedated and are doing everything they can.”
Sharman crossed herself and called upon the good Lord Jesus. “I’ve been praying for her speedy recovery for the past two days. She just don’t listen to reason, Mister Gabriel. Always wantin’ to be weedin’ and rakin’ the leaves in the front and back yard…”
Gabriel gripped her large arms and squeezed. The woman went silent hanging on to his every word. “I really appreciate everything you do, Sharmane. I really do.”
Her eyes grew suspiciously bright before she sniffed and stood straighter. “Are you hungry? I can fix you up somethin’ right quick.”
Gabriel laughed softly. “No, Sharmane. It’s really late and I just want a shower and bed. You wanna help me out with that?” He waggled his brows at her making her grow flustered.
Sharmane sputtered and waved her hands at him, giving a good belly laugh. “Oh, you don’t change, do ya? Such a rascal, you are. Go on,” she chuckled, waving him off. “Go on with your randy self. Don’t be flirtin’ with me. I’m old enough to be yo mama now.”
Gabriel grinned playfully at her. “Yeah and I bet you could teach me a load of things, eh?”
Sharmane swatted at him as he sauntered past. “You big tease. Go on now, git.”
He heard her chuckling and muttering “Lawd-have-mercy” to herself as he traversed the area between the formal dining room and living room to the stairs.
Taking them two at a time, he ascended the stairs to the second floor. His grandmother’s room was the first door at the top of the landing to the left.
Opening the door, he clapped his hands once to activate the lights.
Soft golden light bathed her room, making the brass bed gleam. Her room was done in shades of cream and white with dark wood furniture. A dark purple bedspread covered the large king-sized bed and lacy Priscilla curtains covered the windows to either side of it.
Striding past the bed, he went straight to the dresser, with its big ornate mirror hanging on the wall behind it.
She didn’t have much on her dresser, just an old photograph of his mother to the left, in an antique frame, a smaller picture of him when he was about ten-years-old in front of that one, a porcelain lamp to the right, and in the middle of the dresser was the big wooden jewelry box his grandfather had made her.