The Gift by Cecelia Ahern

looking around Lou’s office, hands in his pockets, with that same patronizing look that was neither jealousy nor admiration.
    “It’s five twenty-two p.m. and thirty-three seconds now,” Gabe said, not even looking at his watch. “Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six…” He turned to Lou. “You get the idea.”
    “So?” Lou stood up and put on his suit jacket and caught a glimpse at his watch to make sure. It was five twenty-two, on the nose.
    “You have to leave now, don’t you?”
    “What does it look like I’m doing?”
    Gabe wandered over to Lou’s side and picked up three pieces of fruit from the bowl there—two oranges and an apple—which he inspected closely, one by one. “Decisions, decisions,” he said. He held the three pieces of fruit in his hands.
    “Hungry?” Lou asked, agitated.
    “No,” Gabe laughed. “You any good at juggling?”
    That same feeling struck Lou’s heart, and he realized exactly what it was that he didn’t like about Gabe. It was questions like that, statements and comments that pierced Lou somewhere other than where they should.
    “You’d better get that,” Gabe added.
    “Get what?”
    Before Gabe could respond, the phone rang, and,despite his preferring Alison to screen his calls, he dove for it.
    It was Ruth.
    “Hi, honey.” He motioned to Gabe for privacy, but Gabe didn’t leave and began juggling the fruit instead. Lou turned his back, and then, feeling uncomfortable with Gabe behind him, he faced forward again to keep an eye on his visitor. He lowered his voice. “Em, yeah, about tonight, something’s come up and—”
    “Lou, don’t do this to me,” Ruth said.
    “It’s just the play I won’t make, sweetheart.”
    Gabe dropped the apple, which rolled across the carpet toward Lou’s desk, and continued juggling with the oranges. Lou felt a childish sense of satisfaction that Gabe had failed.
    “Lucy’s heart will be broken,” Ruth said sadly.
    “Lucy won’t even notice I’m not there, the place will be so dark. You can tell her I was there. Mr. Patterson asked me to meet with a client of ours. It’s a big deal, and it could help with my getting Cliff’s job, you know?”
    “I know, I know. And then if you do get a promotion, you’ll be away from us even more. Anyway, I don’t want to get into this conversation now. So you’ll make it home for dinner? Your mum just rang on the phone saying how much she’s looking forward to it. You know, it’s already been a month since you’ve seen them.”
    “It’s not been a month. I saw Dad just”—he went quiet while calculating the time in his head—“well, maybe it’s almost been a month.”
    A month? How the time had flown. For Lou, visiting his parents was a chore, like making the bed. After he had not done it for some time, the sight of the untidy blankets would play on his mind until he went to get it over and done with. He’d feel an instant sense of satisfaction it had been completed. But then he’d wake up the next day and know he had to go and do it all over again. The thought of his father complaining about how long it’d been since Lou’s last visit made Lou want to run in the other direction. It made him feel guilty, but it also made him want to stay away longer.
    “I might not make dinner, but I’ll be there for dessert. You have my word on that.”
    Gabe dropped an orange, and Lou felt like punching his fist in the air in celebration. Instead, he pursed his lips and continued to make excuses to Ruth for everything, refusing to apologize for something that was totally out of his control. Lou finally hung up the phone and folded his arms across his chest.
    “What’s so funny?” Gabe asked, throwing the one remaining orange up and down in his hand.
    “Not such a good juggler, are you?” Lou smirked.
    “Touché.” Gabe smiled. “You’re very observant. Indeed, I’m not a good juggler, but it’s not really juggling if I’d already chosen to drop those others and