Welcome to Hell: Rediscovering First Love

Sharply, my head snapped up at his admission. “Then why didn’t you?” I asked in a nasty tone my eyes narrowing and returning to his face.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have married James. Maybe then, Keegan and I both wouldn’t be so unhappy. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be looking for a way to escape the unhappiness I’ve created for myself. The unhappiness I’ve created not him, Gabby. Damn the mess my life is in isn’t Kerry’s fault any more than it is Yancy’s. It is all my own doing. It’s my own damned fault.

I took a swig of beer with my free hand not wanting to break the connection.

“Because then I would have had to see you too and that would have broken me.”

Oh my God! I would have choked on the beer in my mouth if I had swallowed it. Kerry was lucky I hadn’t spit the drink out at him, as my surprise was so great when that particular declaration came out of his mouth. Then, I got scared. So scared I bolted from the booth. I didn’t make it far. My feet stopped as if they had a mind of their own. My hand suddenly felt cold where Kerry had been caressing it with his thumb. I looked down at that offending hand. I went back to the booth.

“I’ll speak to Kat. Can I call you at Esther’s house tomorrow?” I asked in a clearly panicked voice. I had to leave Kerry McCoy. He could still affect my sensibility as if I were a teenage girl madly crazily in love with him. We all know I am in love with him but he didn’t need to know that as well.

He stood beside me, so close I could see his pupils as clear as could be. So close I could see the emotion in his eyes. “Leave a message if I’m not there,” he replied. My gaze was drawn up to his inviting warm eyes. We were inches apart.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked touching my arm.

I pulled away confused and desperately wanting to run away from Kerry. “No, I prefer to be alone.” This was what I wanted. I had never stopped thinking about him. Never stopped loving him and now I was pushing him away. Too much. Too soon. I couldn’t think.

One long finger reached up and caressed my jaw in a gentle touch so soft I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. His head bent towards me as if he would kiss my lips. I sto

od transfixed. Frozen to the damned floor. Unable to move. His eyes were closed. Mine closed waiting for the touch of his lips on mine. It never happened. They touched my forehead in a gentleness that was endearing but left me wanting more.

“Goodbye, Gabby,” he said sitting back down in the booth…almost sadly I thought as I turned on my heel to walk away then I stopped and looked over my shoulder as he said my name.

“Don’t walk away from me.”

“I’m not,” I lied. I was running as fast as I could. “Do you still play guitar?” I asked curiously wondering why the question popped out of my mouth.

“Yes, when I have the time. Why?”

“I always liked to watch you play.” I had been thinking of his finger caressing my face.

“As I remember it turned you on,” he said chuckling.

Then he laughed out loud when my face turned brilliant red. Listening to Kerry’s rich laugh, I walked to the great oak bar and leaned over it again, ass in the air and kissed Patrick’s weathered cheek knowing that Kerry’s eyes were still on me. I really needed to stop doing that ass-in-the-air-move. I wasn’t exactly twenty-one anymore.

“It’s good to see you darlin' Gabrielle,” he said softly touching the softness of my cheek. “You be a good girl.” He warned.

“Say hello to Issy for me,” I told him.

“For certain,” he replied. “Give her a call if you can. I’m sure it would make her happy.”

“I’ll try,” I told him. “You know Yancy monopolizes my time and my visit is short.”

Then, I left the bar shaken by my encounter with Kerry McCoy.

#

Kat was in the den comforting my sister Gemma while my mother berated Troy over the telephone for making her daughter cry. Everyone stopped what she was doing when I walked into the den. My mother told Troy I was home and handed the phone to me. Why me? I thought to myself taking the receiver anyway. Why does everyone put their problems on my shoulders as if I didn’t have enough of my own damned issues?

“Hello Troy,” I said slightly fuzzy from the alcohol I was not accustomed to drinking.

In my younger days I wouldn’t have felt so warm and fuzzy after only two shots of tequila and part of a beer.

“Gabby. I’ve made a mess of things,” Troy said, “over some damned golf clubs.”

“No you haven’t. My sister has by running home to Yancy. She’ll be back home tomorrow night. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks Gabby.”