too deficient to tell her body to leave. She had
no idea how long she sat on her bike gazing at the house before a
curious woman popped her head out the door and asked if she was
looking for someone. She managed to pull her body out of its stupor
enough to shake her head and accelerate away.
The thought of
going home brought such a sense of desolation, she nearly curled
over with the pain. Instead she drove back down Anastasia Boulevard
and ended up on the beach, curling her toes into the sand and
willing Harrison to materialize before her.
He never
did.
She sat all
afternoon and he never did.
Before
heading home she drove past the garage and down Ninth Street one
more time, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Helen and Harrison
Granger no longer existed.
Gemma drove
home. The house was quiet and serene as she pulled into the garage,
but the calmness did nothing to steady her frayed nerves. As she
had sped up the highway the thought of facing her parents had
started building in the back of her mind. The rage and disbelief of
what they had done escalated within her and a cauldron of boiling
emotion bubbled in her belly. She strode through the doorway and
into the kitchen.
The room was
empty except for the tantalizing smell of her mother’s lasagne. The
strains of Strauss lingered through the air blending appropriately
with the elegant touch of silver to china and the quiet murmur of
mealtime conversation.
Gemma turned
the corner and took in the charming scene. The white table cloth,
the wine glasses, the tall, unnecessary candles gracing the table.
Her mother and father sat at one end, while Ruby and Dom faced each
other down the side. Her ears were buzzing too loudly to take in
the conversation. She could see her usual place at the end was set
and waiting for her… just a normal night in the Hart home. The
cauldron within her spat hot spray over the walls of her
stomach.
She entered the
room in silence and grasped the back of her chair. Her knuckles
turned white.
“Good evening,
Gemma.” Her mother’s voice was calm and genteel. Placing a forkful
of food on her tongue, she chewed the morsel and swallowed before
sending her a reproachful look. “You didn’t check in today… or
reply to my text. You know you must always do so when you return
from a trip. We’ve had to postpone our debrief until after dinner.”
She frowned. “Don’t let it happen again, sweetie.” She took a sip
of wine and scooped another mouthful of lasagne onto her fork.
Gemma fought
the boiling bubbles inside her, but couldn’t keep her voice from
shaking.
“He wasn’t on
the beach waiting for me. He wasn’t at the garage. He wasn’t at
home. In fact, the garage and the home don’t belong to his family
anymore, because Bryan didn’t marry Helen. She doesn’t exist
anymore, how could he?” Gemma’s voice was starting to crack. “So
that means Bryan and his kids had no reason to move to St
Augustine. They’re all gone. Harrison’s gone.” She shook her head
and willed the tears away. “How could you do this to me? Do you not
love me at all?”
Finally her
parents looked up from their plates. Pinching the napkin off her
knee, Gemma’s mother wiped the corners of her mouth while her
father placed his knife on the edge of his plate.
“Not everything
in this world is about you, Gemma. We went back for the gold.”
“BULLSHIT!” She
felt the cauldron explode as her hand threw her plate of waiting
food against the wall. Bright red meat sauce smeared the cream
wallpaper and dripped towards the carpet like blood. She saw her
mother flinch before flashing her a dark look.
“This had
nothing to do with the gold!” Gemma’s voice was so deep and
malignant she barely recognized it.
Obviously
using every ounce of will power to remain calm, Penelope reached
for her wine glass and took a slow sip. Placing it on the table,
she looked at her daughter with dispassionate eyes. “Well, it just
goes to show we can do
no idea how long she sat on her bike gazing at the house before a
curious woman popped her head out the door and asked if she was
looking for someone. She managed to pull her body out of its stupor
enough to shake her head and accelerate away.
The thought of
going home brought such a sense of desolation, she nearly curled
over with the pain. Instead she drove back down Anastasia Boulevard
and ended up on the beach, curling her toes into the sand and
willing Harrison to materialize before her.
He never
did.
She sat all
afternoon and he never did.
Before
heading home she drove past the garage and down Ninth Street one
more time, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Helen and Harrison
Granger no longer existed.
Gemma drove
home. The house was quiet and serene as she pulled into the garage,
but the calmness did nothing to steady her frayed nerves. As she
had sped up the highway the thought of facing her parents had
started building in the back of her mind. The rage and disbelief of
what they had done escalated within her and a cauldron of boiling
emotion bubbled in her belly. She strode through the doorway and
into the kitchen.
The room was
empty except for the tantalizing smell of her mother’s lasagne. The
strains of Strauss lingered through the air blending appropriately
with the elegant touch of silver to china and the quiet murmur of
mealtime conversation.
Gemma turned
the corner and took in the charming scene. The white table cloth,
the wine glasses, the tall, unnecessary candles gracing the table.
Her mother and father sat at one end, while Ruby and Dom faced each
other down the side. Her ears were buzzing too loudly to take in
the conversation. She could see her usual place at the end was set
and waiting for her… just a normal night in the Hart home. The
cauldron within her spat hot spray over the walls of her
stomach.
She entered the
room in silence and grasped the back of her chair. Her knuckles
turned white.
“Good evening,
Gemma.” Her mother’s voice was calm and genteel. Placing a forkful
of food on her tongue, she chewed the morsel and swallowed before
sending her a reproachful look. “You didn’t check in today… or
reply to my text. You know you must always do so when you return
from a trip. We’ve had to postpone our debrief until after dinner.”
She frowned. “Don’t let it happen again, sweetie.” She took a sip
of wine and scooped another mouthful of lasagne onto her fork.
Gemma fought
the boiling bubbles inside her, but couldn’t keep her voice from
shaking.
“He wasn’t on
the beach waiting for me. He wasn’t at the garage. He wasn’t at
home. In fact, the garage and the home don’t belong to his family
anymore, because Bryan didn’t marry Helen. She doesn’t exist
anymore, how could he?” Gemma’s voice was starting to crack. “So
that means Bryan and his kids had no reason to move to St
Augustine. They’re all gone. Harrison’s gone.” She shook her head
and willed the tears away. “How could you do this to me? Do you not
love me at all?”
Finally her
parents looked up from their plates. Pinching the napkin off her
knee, Gemma’s mother wiped the corners of her mouth while her
father placed his knife on the edge of his plate.
“Not everything
in this world is about you, Gemma. We went back for the gold.”
“BULLSHIT!” She
felt the cauldron explode as her hand threw her plate of waiting
food against the wall. Bright red meat sauce smeared the cream
wallpaper and dripped towards the carpet like blood. She saw her
mother flinch before flashing her a dark look.
“This had
nothing to do with the gold!” Gemma’s voice was so deep and
malignant she barely recognized it.
Obviously
using every ounce of will power to remain calm, Penelope reached
for her wine glass and took a slow sip. Placing it on the table,
she looked at her daughter with dispassionate eyes. “Well, it just
goes to show we can do
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