Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 14: Beach Day

My favorite thing about living in the coast is that most days here have a light breeze; sunny, hot days are odd. Today is one of those rare days. Gabe somehow convinced me to come to the beach. Calling it crowded would be understatement since others are also trying to take advantage of the sunshine. Some are in the water, a few are sitting in the sand and then there are those that only sit in their parked cars (and yes, those people exist!) We chose my favorite spot which is by a log, it's where I like to sit mostly because it's just far enough and not teeming with visitors. Walking towards it, I ponder to myself how little I know of Gabe. I suppose I've been okay with that for the most part. Yet there's so much I want to ask about.

"Tell me something about you," I looking at him.

"Like what?" Gabriel replies.

"Anything. You're not exactly an open book," I say.

"There's not much to tell," he states.

"What about your family?" I propose.

"What do you want to know? It's just my parents and me."

"You're an only child? Me too! Well I was, up until a few years ago," I tell him.

There is a long pause before he replies, "I am now."

Oh crap. Did I just pick the wrong topic?

"I had a brother," he explains.

I hear the emphasis on the past tense. Had.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong to assume anything," I quickly apologize.

I would go and ask about probably the last thing he wants to talk about.

For a moment neither of us say anything. We sit in silence. I want to know what's on his mind right now but feel like I would be invading his space if I asked. So, I don't. I simply wait.

"What about you?" he asks.

I guess we're moving the attention to me.

"It was me and mom until she got married seven years ago. My little brother is three," I say.

"So it's you, your mom, stepdad and half-brother?"

"Technically, yes but I don't call Oliver my half-brother."

"And your dad?" he questions.

I wonder if I should tell him the truth. That I don't know. Nobody else besides my mom knows.

"He wasn't in the picture. My mom never talked about him so...."

"You never asked?" he wonders.

"Well, he's never been there. All she ever said was that it was me and her since day one. I always just believed he was part of a past too painful to talk about," I say.

"That had to be tough," Gabriel responds, "only having one parent."

"Not really. I mean there was no before and after. For my mom, yes. For me, no. The two of us was all I ever knew," I explain.

He sees me running my fingers through the sand. Yes it is partly to keep busy and also so that I don't have to look at Gabriel.

"Besides, it's not like..." I stop but then I want to explain what I mean, "It's different when you don't know them. It's a loss, but it's not the same. You lost someone you loved. I can't say that."

"So it doesn't hurt?" Gabriel no longer sounds curious but almost concerned.

I've wondered about it. If I should feel pain. If that made sense.

"I say we change the subject. What do you think?" I ask hoping he'll agree.

"You mean heading straight into the depressing stuff wasn't a good idea?" he questions.

"I wouldn't have brought it up if I had known," I explain.

"Me neither. Sorry I pushed for details," he says.

"It's okay, I know," I don't know why I feel like I do know that about him, "and Connor is a really good dad."

He simply nods and stares into the water, content with my response. One of my best things about being with Gabe is that we both know when it's appropriate to pry and when to give each other space. Even though I know both of us want to know more, for now it's enough. We don't need to rush into anything. There's time.

"Well we didn't drive here to just sit around," Gabriel says.

"Maybe I did," I reply.

"Why do you think we're at the beach?" he asks.

"To enjoy the view, get some vitamin D, walk in the sand barefoot," I suggest.

"Not at all," he replies.

"But I brought my journal and a book," I say.

"Which you can write in and read later," he says.

In his defense, the two usually go with me everywhere.

"Can't I just watch you?" I ask.

He stands up and extends his hand for me to take, "Come on."

"Only if after we walk?" I ask.

"You don't like the water?" he asks.

"I'm not a fan," I confess.

He sighs, "Fair enough. We'll split our time."