Something Blue

Epilogue

Gabe

The sun overhead was a feeble thing-- pale and cold and unable to pierce through the frigid cold that nipped at his nose and cheeks and made his fingers numb within his gloves. The sky was a washed-out powder blue, the clouds a distant, insubstantial wisp. A cold breeze pushed continually through the little sliver of an opening between his scarf and his collar, and his boots were coated in a thick layer of icy-cold mud that made his toes go numb.

The weather was absolutely wretched, not that the revelry happening around him gave any indication of the misery.

The gray, cobblestone street was lined on either side with a smattering of colorful merchants' stands. An older woman selling knit scarves and mittens had set up between a man hawking jars of honey and a girl with a table of hand-crafted jewelry and tree ornaments. In the distance, the off-key strands of a violin sang out butchered Christmas carols, accompanied by an accordian.

Gabe leaned back in his seat, stretching an arm out over the back of the bench and watching the festival-goers walk by. Nobody paid him much mind. Those who recognized him from the pub smiled and nodded their heads. A couple stopped just long enough to give him light-hearted trouble for shutting the place down to enjoy the holidays with his family.

Three years had passed, and he still wasn't quite accustomed to being a respected member of society. Just like he'd never get used to Katherine wrapping her arm around him as they walked down the street, or Isobel hauling him about town, just the two of him, on little errands of her own invention.

Speak of the devil...

Katherine strode into view, finally finished with her appointment at the salon. She wore a thick, red wool coat that masked her slender curves, and led Isobel by the hand, little Vivian hiked up against a hip. All three of his girls had their hair brushed and curled and pinned up. Even Viv, who barely had enough hair to wrap around a finger.

They didn't see him, and for a long moment he simply watched. Isobel's attention had been captured by an artisan selling paintings of tropical sunsets, and Katherine had obligingly stopped so their daughter could admire the paintings. The artist, a girl with curly brown hair and a bright smile, said something that made Katherine laugh. She tossed her head back and he listened to the peel of it rise up over the hum of chatter and footsteps and music. Katherine's laughter put the most talented musicians to shame.

With a happy sigh, Gabe pushed to his feet and crossed the street. He approached quietly and Katherine and Isobel were both too distracted by the painter to notice him walking up. Little Viv, however, caught sight of him over her mother's shoulder and let out an ear-piercing squeal, followed by an elated giggle.

Katherine startled and looked over her shoulder, her shock fading to happiness when her eyes caught him.

"Hey, you," she said, passing Viv into his waiting arms.

"Hi pa," Isobel said distractedly, before pointing to a canvas portraying a deep orange-red sunset with a pitch black palm tree silhouetted against it. "Can I have this?"

"I dunno, honey," Gabe said, as Viv began to tug at his hair, her own dark locks curling out from beneath her knit cap. "What did your mama say?"

"Ma said to ask you," Isobel said impatiently, looking up at both of them before turning back to the painter. "What kind of tree is that?"

As the painter began to extol on the virtues of the palm tree, Gabe scowled at Katherine. "Ask me, huh?" he said under his breath.

She gave him a sweet smile. "I'm the one who said no to the bicycle. And the train ride to New York City. And that ridiculous haircut she wanted. And the--"