Chapter 17

I stood back as Patrick checked our bags and printed out our boarding passes. I stood stiffly and warily as I looked around at all the people surrounding us. I’m claustrophobic and I felt like walls were closing in on me, like I needed clean air. Patrick glanced at me over his shoulder and gave me a smile. I smiled back at him. At least I thought I did.

When he was done he took my hand and led me through the maze of people to security and customs. I followed his lead on everything, having my passport out ahead of time. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been on a plane. I knew I’d flown before, when I was young, but I didn’t remember it. I couldn't even remember where I'd gone.

Once we were through everything he took my hand again and I followed him to our gate. Most of the seats already contained people, so we found an empty spot against the wall and sat on the floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest and reminded myself to keep slow, steady breaths. Patrick placed a hand on my knee and nudged me with his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

No, I wasn’t. I was so far from being okay. I was using every ounce of my energy to fight off a panic attack. I wasn’t sure what was causing the fear and anxiety. It could have been the impending plane ride. It could have been meeting Patrick’s family. It could have been spending the holidays with a family for the first time since I’d lost mine. It could have been the fact that I felt like I was falling for Patrick more and more every time I saw him. It could have been a combination of any or all of those things.

“Just nervous. I haven’t flown since I was a child,” I told him.

I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t let him know that I was crazy. I couldn’t tell him that there was a bottle of Ativan that I hadn’t brought because I didn’t want him to know about it that I desperately wished I had with me. I couldn’t tell him that I wished I had something much stronger than Ativan. I couldn’t tell him that I hadn’t had the craving for something like that in seven years, but now I had twice since I’d met him.

“It’ll be okay. I promise,” he tried to assure me as he put an arm around my shoulders. I nodded and forced a smile onto my face to try to hide what I was really feeling.

We boarded the plane for Thunder Bay a while later and I strapped in between Patrick and the window. We talked off and on through the night flight. I felt like he was trying to keep my mind off of the fact that I was in the air, and it was sweet. A little misguided, but sweet. I clung to his hand as the plane touched down, and he placed a kiss on my forehead once we were taxiing to the gate.

“See, I promised that you’d be safe,” he whispered. I wasn’t safe. I’d never be safe around him.

We walked off of the plane and I felt the tightening in my chest when I realized that it was way too late to turn back now. I stopped walking, took a few deep breaths, and then caught up to Patrick who had stopped to turn back to me. Once again, he mistook my nervousness for something else.

“My family will love you. I promise.” I wanted to tell him to stop promising things. Promises could never be kept.

He took my hand again and led me through the airport, which was considerably smaller and less full than the Chicago airport had been. That helped. We reached baggage claim and I saw a guy standing there with the same eyes as Patrick. We headed straight for him and Patrick let go of my hand to give him a hug. I hung back as they greeted each other.

“This is my girlfriend, Gabrielle. Gabby, this is my brother, Chris,” Patrick introduced us.

I hesitated a moment, surprised by what Patrick had said. The word ‘girlfriend’ had never come up between us before. When had that happened? When had we gone from just dating to me being a girlfriend? Finally I stepped forward, put a smile on my face, and shook his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chris. Patrick talks about you all the time. Let me assure you it’s not all good,” I joked with a wink. It even amazed me at how quickly I managed to shift from anxiety to good humor.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised. It’s nice to meet you, too. Come on, I’m sure you guys are tired. I’ll get you home,” he returned.

I insisted on sitting in the back seat of the car so that the two of them could talk and catch up. I kept an ear on the conversation so I could respond when necessary, but my mind was elsewhere. I hadn’t been with people for Christmas in nine years. Even when Olivia had taken me in and given me a home for a while, I’d spent Christmas alone. She’d gone to be with her family, and despite her insistence, I’d always refused to join. Now I was heading into a family Christmas with an apparent ‘boyfriend’ I still didn’t know all that well. Talk about jumping in head on.

Chris pulled into the driveway of a house with a porch light on in front and a light on in a room inside. He got out and helped with the luggage. When I noticed that there were no other cars in the driveway and no one came out to greet us I assumed this was Patrick’s house in the off season. Chris and Patrick carried the luggage inside and I followed them in.

“Okay, I have to get back to Faith. I guess we’ll see you for breakfast at Mom and Dad’s at 9?”

“We’ll see you then,” Patrick confirmed. Chris gave a final wave before walking back out the front door.

“Nice place,” I told Patrick when he shut the door behind Chris. He smiled over at me and pulled me into a hug.

“I kind of sprang the ‘girlfriend’ thing on you back there,” he said. I looked up at him in surprise. How had he known? As if reading my mind again, he gave a small laugh. “You were quieter than normal the entire trip back from the airport.”

“I’m sorry. I was just caught off-guard,” I replied truthfully.

“I hope it was okay.”

“It was.” I could hear the tremor in my own voice, so I tried to hide it with a smile.

“Gabrielle, whatever’s making you tense about me, about being here, I just want you to know that I can help. Let me save you,” he whispered. His words stunned me. They hit me harder than I would have liked them too, because God, I wanted to be saved. I just hadn’t realized that it had been so obvious that I’d been holding back and hiding things.

“I never asked you to save me.”

“I know.”

He said those two words very pointedly, his eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t just telling me that he was aware I didn’t ask him to, he was telling me he was willing and wanted to. I didn’t even know how to respond to that, short of just breaking down, and I wasn’t going to do that. All I knew was that my heart was surging and fluttering and my stomach was doing somersaults. How was it that he could make something so awful seem so tolerable?

“Why don’t I give you the tour?” he asked, obviously sensing I wasn’t sure what to say and wanting to change the subject.

“The tour can wait.” He looked over at me in surprise. I shrugged. Two simple words had made me need him again. “The house will still be here later.” He laughed and lifted me easily in his arms.

“Why don’t I show you the bedroom first?”

I felt a stab of fear when the alarm sounded the following morning. This was it. What had I gotten myself into? We took turns showering and then got into a car he leaves there when he goes to Chicago for the season and headed over to his parents’ house. Patrick gave me more assurance that his family would love me before he opened the front door and we walked in.

“Sweetie! How was your trip?” a woman I assumed was his mother exclaimed, immediately coming down the hallway and hugging Patrick. An older man came around a corner with a smile on his face, followed by Chris and his very pregnant wife.

“It was, fine. No problems. Hi, Dad.”

“And you must be Gabrielle,” the woman said, turning her attention towards me. I smiled and started to stick my hand out to shake her hand. “Oh, we don’t shake hands in this family.” She wrapped me up in a hug that took me by surprise. When she pulled away, I saw Patrick holding back a laugh as his eyes met mine.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Sharp.”

“Nonsense. We don’t do formal here either. It makes me feel old. Call me Elise and this is my husband, Ian. I believe you met Chris last night, and this is his wife, Faith,” she said, introducing me to everyone.

After the introductions were over I followed the family back into the kitchen where the table was set for all of us and food was already on the table. There was more food sitting out than I thought was possible for just six people to eat. Apparently I underestimated the Sharp family. Hardly anything was left after the meal.

The conversation had been light and amusing. I heard stories about Patrick and Chris as they were growing up, some of which they’d probably wished had never been brought up again. I spent more time laughing than I would have liked. There was a comfort in feeling uneasy about being in a family setting. Enjoying it meant I was enjoying being around a family, which meant I was growing to like them, which meant that it was going to hurt even worse when they were torn away from me.

“Let me help you clean up,” I offered to Elise. She brushed my offer away with a wave of her hand.

“We don’t put guests to work in this house. The boys will help me clean. Go on out and enjoy your coffee with Faith and Ian.” I gave her a smile and nodded at the dismissal.

We sat around a truly charming and inviting living room finishing off the coffee and letting the breakfast feast digest before I was informed it was time to find the Christmas tree. Usually the whole family went along, but Faith stayed back because of her 8 months of pregnancy and Elise stayed to keep an eye on her. The rest of us bundled up against the Thunder Bay cold and walked out into the woods.

“This one looks good,” Ian suggested, pointing to a tree nearby.

“I think it’ll work,” Chris agreed. Patrick turned to me.

“What do you think?” he asked. I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d never gone out searching for a Christmas tree before. What were the requirements of a good tree?

“It looks good to me,” I said, agreeing with the first two. I wasn’t about to know any better than they were.

They got to work chopping the tree down as I sat back and shivered. I’d never experienced a cold like this cold before. I didn’t know it was humanly possible for someone to get this cold and still survive. I couldn’t feel my toes or my fingers and they were under layers and layers of socks and gloves.

Finally the tree fell and I was appointed the very top to carry. The four of us trekked through snow that was up to my knees as we carried the tree back to the house. Elise opened the door for us when she saw us coming and we tried our best to shake the snow off of us before entering the house. I saw with gratitude that she had hot cocoa waiting for our arrival.

The next couple of hours were spent decorating the tree with a variety of ornaments. Some were fancier, some were goofier, and some were homemade. I laughed at the stories they told of how some of the ornaments were made by the boys when in grade school. I laughed harder at a picture of Patrick from when he was 8 years old stuffed into a ratty old tuna can with glitter and fake snow.

Despite all the laughter as we finished decorating the tree, I was overcome with a feeling of sadness. With my family there’d never been a family search for the perfect tree, there was no family decorating, and I couldn’t recall ever making a homemade ornament. Even if I had, I doubted it would have ever been allowed on the tree.

Later that night, long after dinner had ended, Patrick and I returned to his house. We fell right into bed, both exhausted from a long day. The only difference between us is that he fell asleep with a smile on his face, while I struggled to keep him from waking up to see my tears. His family was perfect, and made me long for a family of my own. I didn’t want to feel this anymore, yet it had only been the first day of four here. I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through the rest.