GABBY POPPED AN aspirin in her mouth and downed it with a glass of water, saying a hallelujah for naptime. Most days, she felt lucky that Claire had hired her to work at the church day care, but today had been a new level of exhausting. Three of the toddlers had colds and were dripping snot everywhere, one of the infants projectile vomited all over her colleague, and Gabby had spent the entire morning trying to calm down Carter Montgomery’s tantrum over a stuffed dragon. Now, with the kids finally slumbering on red and blue mats scattered around the room, she lowered her head and sighed. Is this really my life? She’d always dreamed of working with kids . . . but as a teacher, not some glorified nanny.
The day care door creaked open, and Claire popped her head in. Gabby held a finger over her lips, angling her head toward the sleeping kids. Claire crept toward her, an oversize knit scarf wrapped around her shoulders.
“Just came to say hello to my Sadie,” Claire whispered, scanning the room. “But if everyone’s napping . . .”
Gabby was shocked by her normally tidy friend’s appearance. Claire’s mascara was smudged under her eyes, and if Gabby wasn’t mistaken, there was some sort of food smeared on her blouse. “You okay?” Gabby asked, nodding at the stain.
“Oh.” Claire blushed and wiped at it. “Yeah, just a busy day. I ate pie for lunch, clearly a little too enthusiastically.” She looked up from her shirt. “Hey, do you want to come over after work?”
Gabby grabbed a red Twizzler from the staff candy jar and bit into it. “I can’t—I’m meeting up with Tony.”
“Ooh, the mysterious Tony . . .” Claire grabbed a Twizzler out of the jar, too. “When do we get to meet him?”
“Um . . .” Gabby lowered her head. She wanted to say soon but didn’t want to lie. She had been doing enough of that already—precisely why she was in this mess in the first place.
The night she had met Tony, she was at a bachelorette party in Lafayette, draped in plastic penis necklaces. Tony came up to her at the bar and asked her if she liked his jacket. When she shot him a confused look, he said, “It’s made out of boyfriend material,” then flashed her a smooth grin.
Gabby rolled her eyes and walked away, uninterested in cheesy pickup lines. Her ex-boyfriend Russell had opened with something similar, and it was all downhill from there. Not doing that again, she thought as she joined her friends back at the table. But the other girls at the party admitted they put him up to it; it was a challenge on the bachelorette party dare sheet. A bridesmaid bought Tony a drink for playing along, and he in turn gave it to Gabby as an apology.
“Do you like Guinness?” he asked her.
“Yeah,” she said, accepting the drink. (Lie number one.)
“It was a pretty suave line, right?” he asked as they huddled at a high-top table in the corner.
She shook her head. “Please don’t ever use that on another girl.”
“Because you’d be jealous?” He smiled, his cheeks dimpling, and Gabby realized how cute he was.
She smiled back. “Because you sound like an ass.”
When he asked her about her family, she told him what she told most strangers: “My parents aren’t around anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—they passed away?” he asked, looking genuinely sad for her.
She nodded. (Lie number two.) To her, it was easier and less embarrassing than having to admit she didn’t even know her dad and that her mom had gone to prison for embezzlement her senior year of high school—a ten-year sentence that she was now only four years into.
“What school do you go to?” Tony had asked her, his TAG Heuer watch peeking out from his blazer.
“U.L.,” she’d said, thinking of the closest school in the area: University of Louisiana at Lafayette. (Lie number three.) Gabby hadn’t even applied there . . . but to be fair, she’d gotten into an even more prestigious school: Tulane. After her mom was arrested, she hadn’t been able to afford college—any college—so it was kind of a moot point. But it was fun pretending she was still that girl for a moment. So when he asked her major, she continued living in her fantasy and said education (lie number four), just like she had always dreamed about. And she left out the part about living in Toulouse and working at a day care (not a lie, per se . . . just a pretty big omission). In her head, it was fine. This was just a fun night out with the girls; she’d never see this guy again, anyway.
The more they talked, though, the more she realized all the things they had in common. Like how they both secretly loved courtroom TV shows—not the dramas, but the petty small-claims reality shows. And how their playlists consisted of both Lil Wayne and Wayne Newton. He was even helping his dad with an education reform bill and asked if he could get her ideas.
“Maybe we can go for a drink one night, and I can pick your brain,” he said, running his fingers nervously through his hair as they were saying good-bye. She’d meant to tell him the truth about her life when they met for drinks a week later, but the outing was less education reform talk and more flirty banter. And then there was that sweet good-night kiss . . . the kind where she could feel sparks in her stomach. She decided to wait to tell him. If her dating history was any indication, he’d probably ghost on her soon enough anyway.
But as the weeks passed, she began to see that he wasn’t like those jerks she had dated before. Even though she kept bracing herself for him to catch her in a lie or confront her about the truth or just plain old stop calling, it never happened. Tony was so wonderful and so trusting, and as each date blissfully came and went, Gabby started to feel like it was too late—she was in too deep, and it never seemed like the right time to tell him the truth. If Gabby was being totally candid with herself, she wasn’t sure she even wanted him to know the truth. She was ashamed that her life had turned out the way it had.
Gabby was the one person in her group of friends who was supposed to make it. She was driven—perhaps a result of growing up with so little—and had planned out her whole future: she’d get a degree in education, meet an incredible man, become a teacher, and maybe even go on to be a principal or superintendent someday. But then her mom was arrested and Gabby’s dreams, and her whole life, imploded. She hadn’t applied for scholarships or student loans. . . . Suddenly, Gabby was back to being a poor girl with no hope of escaping Toulouse.
When she was with Tony, Gabby could forget about the four disappointing years she’d had. It was almost like she had found a shortcut to the life—and the man—that she was always meant to have. But since the I love you’s were exchanged a couple of weeks ago, there had been gnawing in her stomach that wasn’t going away.
“I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be together,” Gabby said to Claire now, snapping back to reality. Though she’d had the thought before, it was the first time she’d admitted it out loud. Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears.
“What?” Claire gasped. “But you’re so happy with him.”
Gabby sniffed hard, trying to keep the tears from flowing over. “He’s so different from the other guys I’ve dated—”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Claire said, shaking her head. “What are you not telling me?” She’d always had an uncanny ability to read people.
“It’s a long story,” Gabby began, realizing she had to talk about it with someone. She couldn’t keep carrying this alone.
But right as she was about to tell Claire everything, a three-year-old redhead sat up on his mat and shouted, “Miss Gabby, I’m hungry!” Before she knew it, the whole room had woken, eager for snack time.
Claire shot her an understanding smile, rising to leave. “I want to hear about this later, all right?”
After the fruit snacks were successfully distributed and Gabby got everyone settled to watch a cartoon about Noah’s ark, she sat in one of the tiny plastic chairs and took a deep breath. Claire was right—she was happy with this guy. It was a shame it could never last. Gabby vowed to herself to finally tell him the truth . . . tonight. She silently prepared herself for the impending heartache.
• • •
“SO, GABRIELLE, TONY tells me you go to U.L.,” said Rebecca, a girl with glasses who towered over her. “My friend Daisy Jones is a junior over there. Maybe you know her?”
Gabby sipped her vodka soda and shook her head. “Name doesn’t ring a bell.” Her stomach turned into knots and she hoped there’d be no more discussion about her college experience. She looked around the cute coffeehouse–art gallery and tried to change the subject. “I had no idea this place even existed,” she said. “What a great concept.” The whole scene—the expensive coffee, the sleek art, the cultured partygoers—was indicative of the kind of girl Tony thought she was . . . a girl who could fit in here.
Tony put his arm around her waist. “And can you believe all of this is for my boy?” He put his other arm around the shoulders of his childhood friend LaMarcus, who was being honored as the café’s local artist of the month. His paintings, all of which had a dreamy expressionist vibe, hung around the brick-walled room. Gabby could envision the people who would buy them: smart and sophisticated, just like Tony’s friends.
“Oh, Tony,” said Jeremy, a short guy wearing an unflattering turtleneck. “I was at an event the other night at the bookstore downtown and guess who I ran into: Stephanie Brown! Remember her from college?”
Tony’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! What’s she up to now?”
“Workin’ at freakin’ NASA. Can you believe it? Engineer or something like that.” He shook his head. “Always knew she’d be doing great things.”
“Seriously, man.” Tony looked at Gabby. “We had a couple of classes with this girl,” he explained. “She was so smart. Ran some very intense study groups.”
Gabby nodded her head. People used to say that about her in high school. She wondered if anyone still talked about her like that. More likely, the conversation went something like: “Oh Gabby Vaughn—she sure is living the life. I hear she’s working at a day care and changing diapers like a champ.” She shuddered.
“That’s amazing,” she said to Tony.
“Maybe when you’re a teacher, she can come and speak to your class for career day,” Tony suggested.
“It’s really awesome that you’re gonna be a teacher,” Rebecca interjected. “We need smart people like you in the system. Just think of how many lives you’re going to change.” She looked at Tony and Gabby appraisingly and grinned. “Education and politics. What a power couple!”
Gabby smiled back and took a sip of her drink, trying to hide her embarrassment. If only Rebecca knew the truth . . .
“Okay, now that you’ve made both of us blush,” Tony joked, “we’re gonna go look at the other paintings.” He grabbed Gabby’s hand and began leading her toward the far wall. “We’ll be back!”
They stopped at a painting colored in bold blue, red, and gold hues. The brushstrokes were distorted, but Gabby could make out the scene: a couple dancing cheek to cheek on an empty dance floor. “Gosh, this is beautiful,” she said, stepping back and admiring it.
“Look, she kind of has red hair like you.” Tony nudged her playfully.
Gabby focused in on one of the figures. He was right. “Oh, and look, the guy has dark hair.” She giggled. “It’s us!”
Tony put his arm around her waist. “Maybe we were his inspiration? If so, he should give us a good deal on this painting.”
“Seriously,” she said, thinking how fun it would be to be the kind of person who bought original artwork . . . the kind of person like Tony. She felt that painful, sad twinge of regret again that this life was about to slip through her fingers.
“I’m gonna see how much he’s asking for it,” Tony said, walking over to the small white piece of paper taped next to it on the wall. “Wow,” he said, leaning in closer. “You’ve got to see this!”
Gabby wondered what could possibly make Tony’s mouth drop like that. Was LaMarcus asking thousands of dollars for paintings already? She braced herself for the figure as she leaned in to look at it. But there wasn’t a number on it.
LAMARCUS ROGERS
“Gabrielle, will you marry me?”—Tony
OIL ON CANVAS
She put her hand over her mouth as she tried to process what was going on. She swiftly looked over at Tony, who slowly dropped down on one knee and held out a sparkly diamond ring.
Her heart beating out of her chest, Gabby looked around the café, expecting someone to tell her that she was being pranked. But here was Tony, down on one knee, asking to be hers forever. All the party guests mingling at the front had gone quiet and turned their attention to the two of them. This was, without a doubt, the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. Tony stared up at her, his beautiful brown eyes looking eagerly into hers. Her body began to feel weak—the good kind of weak. The kind that told her he was the right guy for her.
All plans to tell him the truth flew out of her mind. She said the only thing she could think of: “Of course I’ll marry you!”