Even the Moon Has Scars by Steph Campbell Page A

rapidly. Criminals? Is this a joke?
    “Honestly, Gabriel, I never thought I’d raise a son and have to vet his dates’ families—”
    “You don’t,”  he deadpans.
    “Clearly I do.” Her heels click across the shiny, white granite. She slides a pair of earrings in and says. “That Jemma girl has come by no less than eight times since you’ve been gone looking for you.”
    I stare at Gabe, but he won’t look over in my direction. “I’m telling you, the next step will be me obtaining a TRO if she doesn’t stay away.”
    Gabe squares his shoulders, and clenches his jaw.  “Listen, Ma, we just came by to drop this off—”
    “What is that?” she asks, peering into the box with a look of disgust. “Where’d this come from? Some poor old man’s garage?”
    “I bought it. With my own money.” Gabe sets the dirty box down on one of the gorgeous upholstered chairs. “It’s just a part for Gramps’s car.”
    Ms . Martinez throws up her hands and scoffs, “You’re wasting your time out there, and money on another one of your father’s unfinished projects?”
    “It was Grandpa’s,” Gabe says.
    “Well, if he couldn’t get it done—”
    “Mom, he was ninety-three-years-old.”
    “That family is full of excuses.”
    I gasp. I can’t help it. I throw my hand to my mouth and hope Gabe and his mother didn’t hear it.
    I don’t want to be here anymore. At all.
    “They used to be your family, too, Mom. And they’re still mine.”
    The tension is visible in his neck, In the way his jaw is clenched, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows over and over.
    She waves him off. “Anyway, what are you doing here? You know you aren’t supposed to leave Essex County without my permission, I thought I made that perfectly clear.”
    Whatever Gabe did to get sent out to his grandmother’s must have been pretty bad if his mom has banned him from stepping foot in the city.
    “Right, well, I’m not one of your prisoners, Ma.”
    “Thanks to me,” she says. 
    I wish I could become part of the shiny, black lacquered door that I’m leaning against. I wish I could slink under the tiny gap between the door and floor, down the hall, and all the way back home.
    This feels like voyeurism in its worst form. I don’t want the venom spraying around the room to end up on me.
    The relationship that Gabe has with his mom is not something I can relate to at all. I struggle with my parents hovering.
    This ...this is different. This isn’t the smothering love I’m used to. This type of control doesn’t feel like love at all. I mean, I’m sure Gabe’s mother loves him—maybe—I hope.
    “I just needed to pick up this part. I’m going to drop it here, and I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
    “Fine,” his mother says. She glances at the gold watch on her thin wrist. “My car will be here in a minute. Fundraiser at the club.”
    “Kind of late for that, huh?” Gabe asks.
    His mother doesn’t acknowledge the question.
    “Okay then, have fun,” Gabe says. He doesn’t even try to fake sincerity.
    “Gabriel,” she says, pressing her long fingers to her temples. “I want to be clear, our agreement still stands. We made a deal.”
    She looks back at me and frowns. “I’m sorry you had to see this unpleasantness, Lisa.”
    I don’t correct her. Of course I don’t.
    “ You made a deal,” Gabe says under his breath.
    “I made a deal on your behalf. You could try being a little more thankful. Ungrateful, just like your father.” She shakes her head. “I did it to protect you.”
    “Eh, Ma,” Gabe tilts his head and does a little tisk-tisk sound with his tongue that I fear might send his mother’s head into orbit. “You did it to protect yourself, too.”
    “In any case, you know what was agreed upon,” she says. “I don’t want you hanging around here. Put up your things and get back to your grandmother’s house. I’ll have whatever you need shipped to you. You don’t need to make