Danielle Steel - The long road home

“Don't ignore me, Gabriella!” she would shriek, and descend on her like a banshee with fists flailing. But Frank was around more than ever these days, and she was careful around him. She never laid a hand on Gabriella during his visits, but now only when they were alone, or he disappointed her in some way by not showing up when he promised or forgetting to call her, which she always blamed on Gabriella. “He hates you, you little wretch! You're the only reason he's not here tonight!” Gabriella didn't doubt it for a moment, she only wondered what would happen if he stopped coming over. But for now anyway, that seemed less than likely, although he was talking about going back to San Francisco in April, and Gabriella could tell that made her mother very nervous, and her nervousness translated into something far more dangerous for Gabriella.

And in March, every time he came over, the door to the library was closed so they could talk in private, or they went upstairs to her mothers bedroom and stayed there for hours. It was hard to imagine what they were doing, and they were always very quiet. He would smile at Gabriella when he walked by her room, but he never stopped to chat, or even say hello anymore. It was as though he understood that that was forbidden. Gabriella was treated like a leper in her own house.

And in April, he left, as promised, and returned to San Francisco. But much to Gabriella's surprise, Eloise didn't seem particularly dismayed by it. If anything, she seemed busier and happier than ever these days. She scarcely spoke to Gabriella, which was a blessing. And she seemed to be making a lot of arrangements. She spent a lot of time on the phone, talking to her friends, and always lowered her voice when Gabriella came into the room, as though she were telling secrets. But Gabriella couldn't hear them anyway.

It was three weeks after he had left that she began dragging suitcases out of the basement, and asked Jeannie to help her get them upstairs. Eloise seemed to be packing everything she owned, and Gabriella wondered when she would tell her to pack her things. It was days after she had started when she finally told Gabriella to pack a suitcase.

“Where are we going?” Gabriella asked with cautious interest. It was rare for her to ask a question, but she wasn't sure what kind of clothes to put in the suitcase, and didn't want to infuriate her mother by packing the wrong ones.

“I'm going to Reno,” she said simply, which told Gabriella nothing. She didn't dare ask where it was, or how long they would be staying, and prayed she'd make the right guesses about what clothes to pack. She went quietly to her room and began packing, and she couldn't help wondering if, when they got there, Frank would be there. She didn't even know if she liked him. She scarcely knew him. All she knew was that he was handsome and tall, and very polite to her mother. They didn't shout at each other the way her mother and father had, but he didn't say anything to Gabriella either. It was hard to tell if she'd like him, or if she would disappoint him as she had everyone else. It was something she had come to expect now, a fear she lived with. She knew that if she loved someone enough, they would eventually come to hate her, and possibly leave her, just as her father had. And if her own father felt that way about her, who wouldn't? But maybe Frank would be different. It was hard to guess that. And just to relieve her own worries on the subject, she began writing stories about him, but when her mother found them, she tore them up and said she was a little slut, and she was after him herself. She had no idea what her mother meant, or why she was so angry. She had described him as Prince Charming in one of her stories, and she'd been beaten for it. It would undoubtedly have sickened Frank, if he knew that, but of course he didn't. He was already in California by then.

And on a bright Saturday morning, two weeks after Easter, her mother looked at her over breakfast, and smiled at her for what seemed like the first time in her life. It almost frightened Gabriella. There was something glittering in her eyes that warned Gabriella that, if she wasn't careful, there would be trouble. But all Eloise said was, “I'm leaving for Reno tomorrow.” And she seemed happy about it. “Are your bags packed, Gabriella?” Gabriella nodded silently in answer. And after breakfast, her mother checked her room and the suitcase, and nodded. Gabriella was relieved to see she hadn't made any unpardonable mistakes in her packing. She saw her mother glance around the room, as though checking to see if she'd forgotten anything, but she seemed satisfied with what she saw. There were no pictures on the walls, there never had been, and the single photograph she'd had of her father on her dresser had been thrown away by her mother shortly after he left. There was nothing to adorn the room, just her bed, the dresser, a chair, plain white curtains at the window, and a linoleum floor, which Jeannie helped her scrub every Tuesday afternoon.

“You won't need any fancy clothes, Gabriella. You can take the pink dress out of the suitcase,” was her only comment as Gabriella quickly removed it and hung it back in her closet before it could displease her further. “Don't forget your-school clothes.” The instructions were confusing, but she had packed some of them anyway because they were comfortable and warm and she wasn't sure how long they'd be staying in Reno. Her mother turned and looked at her then with a look of sarcasm that wasn't unfamiliar to Gabriella. “Your father is getting married in June. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that.” But all Gabriella felt was relief, along with the crushing disappointment of the realization that he was never coming back again. She had known it anyway, but now it was certain. But she was relieved to know he was alive, and hadn't died in a terrible accident, which would have explained his persistent silence. She had written a story about it, and it seemed so real as she wrote it that she had begun to fear that he really had died, and not just left them. “You won't be hearing from him again,” her mother confirmed for the ten thousandth time. “He doesn't care about either of us. He never did. He never loved you, or me. I want you to remember that, Gabriella. He never cared about you.” Eloise stared down at Gabriella with a spark of anger kindling in her eyes and she seemed to be waiting for an answer as Gabriella stood there. “You do know that, don't you?” Gabriella nodded in silence, wanting to say that she didn't believe her, but doing that might have cost her her life and she knew that as well. She was far too wise now to risk her own survival for the sake of defending her father. And perhaps he never had loved them, though she still found it hard to believe that. Perhaps if she had been better, and less troublesome, he might have loved them more, and stayed… but she still remembered the look in his eyes on that last night in her bedroom. His eyes had told her he loved her, no matter what her mother said now. That's what made it all so confusing.

Her mother went out with friends that night, and Gabriella made a sandwich, and ate it in the kitchen by herself. The house was quiet and peaceful, and she sat for a long time, contemplating the mysterious trip they were undertaking the next day. What awaited them in Reno, or their reasons for going there, was still a mystery to her, and she knew she would have to wait until they got there to discover the answers to her questions. It was a little unsettling not knowing anything at all, and she felt sad, in an odd way, leaving home. This was the house where she had lived with her father, and she could still envision him there as she walked from room to room, or slowly up the stairs, remembering the sound and the smell of him, when he had just put on his aftershave. But they wouldn't be gone long, and maybe it would be an adventure. Maybe Frank would be there, and he would talk to her this time. Maybe he would be nice to her, and if she was very, very good, and did everything possible not to make him angry at her, he might even like her. She promised herself to try hard, as she walked slowly up the stairs.