Gabriella
The porcelain sink chilled Ella's scorching skin as she leaned against it and splashed water onto her face. She was burning from the inside out. A sharp pain gathered behind her eyes and rushed to the back of her head causing her to sway for a moment.
Her hands balled into fists before she shook them out and repeated. Anything to halt the tremble that had taken them over from the moment she tossed the glass at Simon. The shatter still echoed in her mind before she went numb.
Ella inspected her reflection. Her face appeared drained of color and her bone straight hair slightly waved around her forehead and temple as a result of sweat. The eyes staring back at her belonged to a stranger. Sunken exhausted eyes, only familiar by the hazel hue, a shade darker than her mothers. Barely twenty and she felt as worn down as a woman three times her age who had experienced a full life.
The whoosh of flushing behind her reminded Ella that she was in a McDonald's restroom. A mother and a little girl in an Elmo shirt and two pigtails emerged from the stall. The mother lifted the toddler to the sink, and her eyes widened as she became mesmerized with automatic liquid soap dispenser.
Ella kept her eyes on them through the mirror. The mother's hands enveloped her child's while she cleaned them.
When they left, she splashed more water onto her face. She looked back in the mirror hoping the image had changed, but it hadn't. She flicked water from her hands at her reflection, blurring herself.
In the dining area kids were screaming and running around. And old couple sat in the corner scowling at the Play Place.
Ella rubbed her temples as she approached the counter. "Can I get a medium drink?"
"That's it?" the cashier asked. He was cute, around her age and looked to be of Hispanic descent with a slight accent. He twirled the cup in his hand before setting it in front of her.
She hadn't thought much about money and the cab driver had half of it, mostly because he circled around waiting for her to give him an address. When she left the house, she had no clear plan of where she would end up, only that she needed to leave. Things were getting worse with her being there. It could be due to her fever or just her conversation with Simon the night before, but when he entered the kitchen and kissed her mom, for the first time she saw what they could have were it not for her. He was fighting for her mom, not her.
She held the button while the Coke dispensed into her cup. She looked behind her when she heard someone hiss. The guy from the counter waved for her to come back over. She stuck a straw through the lid and walked up to him.
He slid a tray with a large order of fries and a Big Mac toward her. "Your order," he said with a wink.
Ella's stomach growled on cue. "Thank you."
"Welcome. Now smile, pretty girl."
She tried unsuccessfully to bite her lip before a smile broke through.
In the back of the dining area, she nibbled on fries and scrolled through the address book on her phone. She hadn't lived her life in a way that presented many people to turn to in a time of need. The first name was Steven Ashbury. She hadn't seen him since she spent the night and she wasn't sure he would be able to help her now due to his fight with Simon.
She waited to feel some sort of emotion when she deleted her father's number, but nothing came. Even though they were related, he was no different than any other Foster who shared her last name in a phone book.
Next, she paused over Simon's number. Those seven digits were etched into her brain. She had dialed them more than anyone else's. And sometimes when she knew he was alone, she would call just to hear his voice.
"Boo!"
Ella jumped and spilled half her drink onto her tray. A small freckled faced boy stood beside her, smiling from ear to ear. His mother called him and he was gone almost as if he had been a ghost. She turned away from his retreating figure and watched the kids running in and out of the play area, laughing and shouting as they slid down slides and tossed plastic balls at each other.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on the table as she listened to the joyful sounds around her.
**********
Simon
Rain pelted Simon's car, pouring down like hard balls of hail while he sat in the driveway of his home. Through the windshield the house that should have been a sanctuary for his family blurred and resembled an abstract painting, but his eyes barely registered it. Snapshots and images of that morning played over and over in his head, until his mind drifted above the scene and watched it unfold in front of him.
He couldn't recall the last time fury had scorched his senses so quickly that he leapt before he thought. But it was fleeting when he saw the shocked, scared expressions on Patricia and Gabriella's faces. Faces that mirrored his mother's.
It was all falling apart. The cracks were transforming into craters and the secrets were pushing through the surface. He had failed his family. Again.
He got out and leaned against the car, letting the rain baptize his outer shell praying it would wash away the man he was and leave behind a better one. Maybe he could find the same serenity in these storms that his father had. He hoped for peace to engulf him, but nothing came. There was only the crackle of thunder in the distance making him stress about Gabriella's whereabouts even more.
She was nowhere to be found. Her usual "cool down" spots, Lake Torrance and his office, showed no signs of her. He had even driven to Nolan's apartment, but the lights were out and no one answered the door.
She didn't want to be found. At least not by him like she had in the past.
He walked up the driveway like a zombie, into the house, down the hall and quietly opened their bedroom door. Patricia was curled up on the bed asleep, her tiny fingers wrapped around the phone. She had been quiet when he left the house to look for Gabriella. She wouldn't look at him. He wondered what she thought of him. Did he appear to her as much a stranger as he did to himself? If she awoke now and looked at him, what would she see? Her husband? The man that drove away her daughter? He didn't want to stay to find out. He didn't want to disturb what little peace she'd found on this God awful night.
In the shower, he closed his eyes under the stream of hot water. He braced his arms on the tile in front of him as the water rained down onto his neck and back. Every limb on his body felt heavy. The water felt as though it weighed a ton and his muscles ached under the weight of it. But he refused to move from its path until he took the well deserved battering it delivered.
Once the ache had vanished, leaving nothing but numbness in its wake, he shut the water off and stumbled out of the shower. He slid on a pair of boxers and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. She was still in the same position although the phone had slipped from her hand and rested against her stomach. The bed dwarfed her frame, making everything about her seem so small. So fragile. Again he was struck by the familiar need to hold her, to be her rock. He was tempted to wake her and let her know that he was here, that he was still the man she loved and trusted. Protecting her from the outside world had come so easy to him before all this. But it never occurred to him that he could be more lethal to her spirit than anything out there. It never occurred to him that what she really needed protection from, was him.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He fought the urge to touch her gently, squeezed his eyelids shut to halt the burning sensation of his tears, and slowly came to his feet.
He quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. Glass was still scattered on the floor, forgotten in the aftermath of the fight. That and Gabriella's absence were the only signs that their world had been turned upside down. He swept up the small slithers of glass, the swish of the broom mingling with vivid recollections of the fight. He dumped the fragments into the trash while their voices haunted him. He heard Gabriella crying and Patricia screaming for him to stop. Simon dropped the dustpan and slid to the floor. He knocked his head against the cabinet door three times, hoping the last one would clear his mind. But it only left him with a mild headache.
He dialed Gabriella's number again. It went straight to voicemail.
"It's me again. I just want to know if you're okay. Gabriella, I...please call me." He shut his phone and rested his head against the cabinet. Evening slipped into darkness, and he ached for rest, but he didn't move. He remained an untouched statue on the kitchen floor, moving every so often to dial Gabriella's number again.
**********
Gabriella
Ella took a deep breath when the black 4Runner pulled into the McDonald's parking lot. Rick, her Big Mac benefactor, let her stay inside the dining area past closing due to the storm. But now that the lights from Nolan's SUV were blinding her, she wasn't so sure she had done the right thing. She couldn't make out his face, but over the phone, he hadn't said more than two words to her when she asked if he could pick her up.
She grabbed her bags and walked outside. The strong rain and wind whipped around her. She cursed when she stepped into a puddle before reaching his car.
