One day, leaving Gabriel’s house, I look up and notice the numbers. I knew his address of course, but I had never really paid it any attention. The same numbers repeat in every place I have lived, 548. I know I’m going to end up living here one day, one day soon.
My mother, Teresa, is on one of her rampages again. This time she’s stolen a pair of 23k gold earrings from my lockbox. When I ask her about them, she explodes. She curses at me. Punching me in the head and face, screaming at me to get out of her house. This is not the first time Teresa has abused me, but it will be the last. I’ve had enough. I had been packing to take a road trip, visit some sister friends in Atlanta over the Memorial Day weekend. I continued packing and called Gabriel. Upset and crying I ask my new best friend for help.
‘What do you want me to do?’, he says.
‘I dunno, I gotta get outta here’, I wail.
‘Be there in ten minutes’.
True to his word, Gabriel shows up in record time. My mother has locked the storm door so I can’t get out. I guess she was so pissed off she forgot I had the keys. I open the door; as Gabriel leans in to pick up my bags,Teresa jumps onto his back throwing punches, spittle flying from her mouth.
This is not about me going to Atlanta. It is not about the earrings either. Teresa hates Gabriel. She has told me so several times. She claims he is rude and disrespectful. Translation ….Gabriel has not responded to her seductive flirtations. Although she has tried to give him a sneak peek, he has shown no interest whatsoever in what’s up under dress.
Demonstrating remarkable self-control, Gabriel gingerly peels Teresa off his neck picks up my bags and ushers me to his car. Teresa yells at me to never come back. If I prefer Gabriel to her then I should stay with him. She goes back into the house and begins flinging more of my stuff out onto the street. Ungrateful bitch she calls me, just who do I think I am anyway.
We make the short trip back to Gabriel’s house. I’m speechless, shell shocked, dazed at the turn of events. What am I going to do now? He takes me inside and puts me to bed. He suggests I get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.
It may be a new day but the situation looks the same to me. I’m homeless…again, with nothing but the clothes on my back. Exhausted and rheumy eyed from crying all night, I still have no idea what to do next. Gabriel says I should stay with him. WHAT!!!? If I move into his house, where is he going to live? I tell him I’ve never lived with a man before unless I was married or getting ready to get married. Gabriel says he has never lived with a woman before either. He tells me he doesn’t want to lose me. That unabashed look of vulnerability in his eyes again.
I stumble around the house a few more days. Look, he says, stay for a year. Get yourself together, you can pay me rent, he says. I don’t think Gabriel needs the money. I think he just wants to feel like he’s not being taken for a sucker. We agree, one hundred dollars a month. Where can you live for a hundred a month? So I decide to earn my keep buy all the groceries, keep house and such. See to all the little niceties that make a house a home. Sweat equity he calls it. I love Gabriel, this shouldn’t be hard. We also need a contract. I still work for him. We need to separate romance from finance. Draw one up, he says, he’ll sign whatever, he says. Now I wish I had.
He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember Gabriel took me home.
