I Love You Like Crazy

Mrs. Gavin

Gabrielle's new apartment was the epitome of feminine. Even though she had relocated she set up her apartment the way it always had been. She had light pink furniture with silver fixtures. The sofas had both white furry accent pillows and some with pink, silver, and white abstract print. The walls were adorned with classic Breakfast at Tiffany's movie posters.  She had antique yet, classic Art Deco pieces on her shelves. It took her forever to decorate her place. She scoured rummage sales and garage sales mostly. She did it all with John.
"Don't you want to burn all this?" Gabrielle's father said looking around the apartment.  He had just arrived and all he could think about was John helping decorate. It sickened him.
"Dad," Gabrielle cocked her head to the side musingly, "I'm not going to throw out my entire house."
Mr. Gavin looked around the room again. His skin crawled. He wondered how much of the decisions to decorate in this manner were Gabrielle's or John's subliminal coercion.  Gabrielle's personality certainly didn't match this decor. It wasn't that Gabrielle wasn't feminine, she was but in an assertive power kind of way. Mr. Gavin would expect pictures of Gloria Steinman or Ruth Bader Ginsberg but not Audrey Hepburn.
Gabrielle's guest room was no comfort for Mr. Gavin either. Hooks were implanted into the ceiling and walls. Gabrielle used more of an industrial decor in that room. Heavy wood with pipes and rough planks were used as shelves. Darker red flat paint against the dark wood gave the room an ominous look. At one time, Mr. Gavin thought the color scheme would reflect farmhouse chic. It wasn't until trial he realized the sadism and games of control that took place there.  He realized his daughter was an adult and what she does in the bedroom is her decision but he couldn't imagine his daughter wanting to be hurt for pleasure.
"I'm not saying throw out the entire house," said Mr. Gavin, "just change it up a bit."
"When I get the time, Dad, I'll think about it." Gabrielle was humoring him. She wasn't going to change a thing.
"Have you thought about tomorrow and what you're going to say?" Asked Mr. Gavin.
"Dad," Gabrielle scoffed at the notion of not being prepared, "I had that speech in my head the day I spoke to Captain Lews."
"Have you thought about your safety?" Growled Mr. Gavin. He knew Gabrielle would be ahead of the game but he wouldn't be a father if he didn't ask.
Gabrielle opened her laptop. Her father walked over to see. She had set up security cameras in the house and outside the front door.
"I had no idea you had cameras in here!" Mr. Gavin was shocked.
"Let me show you this." Gabrielle smiled devilishly. She opened up a second file where there was a live feed of another brownstone. Mr. Gavin didn't recognize it.
"That's John's place." She said flatly. She didn't take her eyes off the screen.
"That's what?!?" Mr. Gavin responses in shocked surprise.
"John's house." Gabrielle repeated, "I attached a small camera outside his door. I hooked it up to his WiFi and IT at work helped me set it up on my end."
"What is the police found out you deliberately went over there to spy?!?" Mr. Gavin was impressed but worried.
"Relax, Dad." Gabrielle tries to ease her Dad's fears, "They don't know and besides, what help are they giving me now?"
Mr. Gavin sees her logic but still he was uncomfortable with the idea. It was better Gabrielle knew when John isn't home and when he is so she can plan her day. It's not like she has access to his ankle bracelet.
Mr. Gavin justified Gabrielle's over the top actions all his life. It caused his wife to leave when Gabrielle was a teen. She just didn't understand Gabrielle. Everything in Gabrielle's world must make sense.
He remembered when she was in eighth grade and the teacher told her to sit in a certain seat. Gabrielle refused. She didn't understand why it had to be that particular seat when there were others open. Long story short, she was sent to the office-over a chair. His ex wife sided with the teacher on the premise Gabrielle needed to comply. Mr. Gavin felt it was punitive and sided with Gabrielle. Subsequently, Mrs. Gavin felt Gabrielle was never made accountable.
The fighting between the parents was constant. Mrs. Gavin accused Gabrielle of pitting her father against her mother, but Mr. Gavin didn't see it that way. He thought questioning authority was normal and necessary to create independent thinkers. When Gabrielle became successful, he knew his parenting was successful.
"Have you been watching him?" Mr. Gavin inquired.
"Of course!" Gabrielle snapped with a sense of shock, "He's boring. No one goes in to visit him that I can tell."
Mr. Gavin felt relieved that John wasn't hurting anyone else. Maybe the therapy did work. He could sleep easier if that was  the case.
The buzzer rang. Gabrielle closed the laptop. She glared at her father expecting secrecy. He pressed the intercom.
"It's your mother." came out of the intercom.
"Here we go!" Mr. Gavin anticipated the worst as he buzzed in his ex wife. He listened until he heard her footsteps by the door then opened it.
"Hello, Lawrence." Mrs. Gavin looked annoyed, "Where's my daughter?"
"I'm here, Mom." Gabrielle answered. She knew her mom always meant well. She just didn't understand the way the world worked. Gabrielle stood up to greet her mother.
"Nice to see you too, Joanne." Mr. Gavin walked toward the pink sofa. He didn't want to come in between the mother/daughter moment. They were few and far between.
"How have you been, Mom?" Gabrielle hugged her. She did miss her mother but she and her Mom never were close. There was never bonding time or girl talk.  Mrs. Gavin was always teaching or correcting her on how she presented herself to the world. Gabrielle was too strong willed to entertain any advice and too headstrong to change her ways. She felt insulted each time her Mother guided her.
"I'm good," Mrs. Gavin replied, "So tell me what's going on? Why is John stopping treatment?" There were no gushing pleasantries. Mrs. Gavin did not entertain the idea that over emotional welcomes or good-byes meant how greatly a person was missed. I was a display for everyone else or an unneeded ego boost.
"He finished treatment." Mr. Gavin crossed his arms already annoyed, "They can't keep him."
"He's no longer deemed a threat, Mom." Gabrielle answered flatly. She matched her Mother's lack of emotion. It was a good skill to have in life. You disassociate from hurt, pleasure and joy to keep yourself balanced...not too emotional and not too cold.
"How can he be deemed non-threatening if he hasn't been in your presence? He's been supervised night and day." Mrs. Gavin sounded annoyed, not because of assumed incompetence on the part of the judicial system, but because this tomfoolery interrupted her life.
"She's going to bring that up at the hearing, Joanne." Mr. Gavin's tone sounded frustrated at best. Mrs. Gavin hadn't arrived ten minutes and she's already barking, "You can speak too."
"Maybe you can do a joint statement?" Gabrielle looked at her mother pleadingly. Hopefully, they can present as a united front for once.
"I'm going to unpack." Shot Mrs. Gavin as she walked into the guest room. She stopped short at the door. She had never felt threatened by a room before. It was the craziest sensation. It felt like rubber bands were pulling her into the room yet had enough give to make her feel like she had a chance to escape. She ran her fingers over the edges of the heavy wood furniture. Gabrielle would have never allowed anyone nor enjoy pain for pleasure if Lawrence had listened. None of this would have occurred.
The hooks in the ceiling snickered with half smiles. Mrs. Gavin sneered in return. Those hooks violated Gabrielle's autonomy.  It was unconscionable but consensual. The hooks we're the gateway into something more sinister; John. The whole dynamic perplexed Mrs. Gavin.  She didn't give the relationship another thought.
"Lawrence!" Mrs. Gavin called, "I have one more suitcase. Can you go get it?"
Mr. Gavin rolled his eyes as he walked out the door. Gabrielle opened her computer once more. She had an email from her alma mater. She thought it bizarre. She clicked it. Here is the directory as requested by Roy. There had to be a mistake. Roy never contacted her. It was agreed. They had a deal. No contact after the trial. No one could know about them. She would investigate later as her parents slept.