Just something different I wanted to try unrelated to my sci-fi series.
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Prologue
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.
"Black sun. It's me. So different from you and my parents."
He had a picture of his mother. She had 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 doctor 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 Montoya 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."
