Poisoned Son

Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine - Gabriel

The next afternoon, Gabriel stopped at the pub after leaving the university. Thirsty for a quaff, he paid little attention to the cars in the parking lot. When he entered the bar, he was surprised to see Giancarlo and Shep sitting at the bar.

Shep waved him over and Gabriel sat beside him. He hadn't seen his brother since the funeral. Giancarlo greeted him with a nondescript nod.

"How you doin', bud?" Shep said, patting Gabriel on the back. "I'm sorry for your family's loss."

Gabriel shrugged. "I hardly knew the man."

He waved at the bartender and ordered a bourbon.

"Still," replied Shep, shaking his head. "Your poor mother...almost to the altar."

The barman set the drink down. Gabriel pulled out his wallet.

"I'll get that," Giancarlo said.

"Thanks," Gabriel murmured.

"Have you seen mom?" Giancarlo asked.

"Yeah, over the weekend," Gabriel replied.

His brother nodded. "She's struggling. With decision-making especially. I had to remind her about the autopsy results. And I talked to Osgood. At least she's out of that financial snag."

Gabriel was silent. It dawned on him that while he was tending to his mother's emotional needs, Giancarlo was handling tangible matters—something their father would have done.

Shep stood up. "Gotta shake the snake." He lumbered to the restroom.

"Financial snag. You're talking about the house they were going to buy?"' asked Gabriel.

Giancarlo turned to face him. "Something else, a business investment. But Osgood nixed it in time. He withdrew the offer due to extenuating circumstances, and the seller obliged. No harm, no foul."

Gabriel frowned. "What was it?"

Giancarlo paused before answering. "An art gallery."

"A gallery?" Gabriel repeated incredulously. "Here?" 

He was more than a little displeased that he didn't know about this.

"Yeah."

"What was she thinking?" Gabriel asked.

His brother shifted on his stool. "She was thinking of financing her future. Evidently, she had the backing of two board members at the Providence Arts Center, and a group of new artists to fill the space."

Giancarlo set his drink down and rubbed his forehead. "I admit it was out of left field. Claudia had told her I was painting again. I hope that didn't prompt the idea."

Gabriel grimaced. "You think she'd invest in a gallery just to display your work?'

Giancarlo shrugged. "You know how she was, hoping I'd stay in the arts. Who knows why she did it. Doesn't matter now anyway." He gulped the last of his drink and ordered another.

"And what about the house in New York?"

His brother shook his head. "Not happening. Osgood wrangled her out of that deal too. She's not moving."

Gabriel lifted his glass to his lips. "Good," he uttered.

***

The next afternoon, Gabriel visited Sophia. He opened the front door and stepped inside, breathing the air as if he possessed new lungs. The house was hers again. He scanned the room, looking for reminders of George, but his mother had removed any depressing remnants, including sympathy cards.

"Mother?" Gabriel called.

"Out on the deck, dear," she replied. She came in through the sliding door, holding a watering can.

"I've been tending to all the lovely plants I received. I put them outside every day to take the air..." Her voice trailed off.

Gabriel ignored the reference to condolence gifts. "Let's go somewhere to eat, shall we?"

She gave a pained smile and agreed, fusing the words "all right" with a plaintive sigh.

He drove them to Café Luna. As Gabriel escorted his mother from the car, he remarked on the dress she was wearing. "You look lovely today."

She gave him a doubtful glance. "I feel a thousand years old."

The meal was not easy. Gabriel tried to elicit laughter from her, but it was futile. Sophia was mired in an aura of malaise. It's to be expected, he thought. She's been through a terrible ordeal and needs time.

Gabriel wanted to be compassionate yet as he listened to her mournful tones, he felt a flicker of anger for what George had put her through. He had reeled Sophia in romantically and plied her with the promise of a new life. This moment of ire passed when Gabriel reminded himself that George was out of her life forever. It was a satisfying thought.

When the waiter offered dessert, Sophia declined. Gabriel ordered a vegan dish and dove into it with a silver spoon, taking hearty mouthfuls. His mother watched him with a strange expression as she sipped her tea.

Gabriel set his utensil down. "You've been so generous in giving me books. I have one to lend you."

"Oh?"

"It's a terrific novel about the bawdy side of the Victorian bourgeois in the nineteenth century. It's about a married doctor and the prostitute he keeps in London. The story is sordid and very risqué. It was banned in some countries. I loved it."

Sophia cocked her head. He quickly realized his misstep.

"You think I'd be interested in reading something distasteful?" she asked.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Well, I thought..." He paused, then "Of course, you're right, Mother. I apologize."

He reached across the table and touched her hand. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"I know what you're trying to do," Sophia declared, her eyes blazing. "With these gestures. The phone calls, the lunches, the books. You're pushing too hard. You can't make me forget him. I loved George and losing him is a tremendous loss."

She looked away and put a trembling hand to her lips.

Her words stung Gabriel like a slap. He felt like a child as a flush of shame raced up his face. He'd insulted his mother and now she thought him heartless.

He tried to salvage the end of the conversation by bringing up safe topics, but he failed. Sophia's mood had shifted, irrevocably it seemed.

Begrudgingly, Gabriel paid the bill and escorted his mother to the car. 

"Is there any place else you'd like to go?" he asked.

"No," she replied coldly. "Take me home."