coat, a gray wool dress, white knee socks, and red shoes. He had forgotten to bring her hat and gloves, and she looked so small and pale when she left the hospital after thanking everyone for how nice they'd been to her. And just before the elevator doors closed, she smiled and waved. They all agreed on what a nice child she was, and were sorry there weren't more like her. She had even told them the night before that she was sorry to be going home.
“That's a first!” one of the nurses said with a grin as she hurried off to take care of a child with whooping cough, and another with severe burns. Gabriella had been the darling of the pediatric ward, and they were sorry she was leaving too. But not nearly as sorry as Gabriella was herself. She hated leaving their safe haven, and returning to her life in hell.
Her mother was waiting for her when she got home, frowning darkly, with eyes filled with accusation. She had never gone to the hospital to see her, and had told John repeatedly that all that pampering was unnecessary and an outright disgrace. He didn't argue with her, but anyone could have seen how pale Gabriella was when he brought her home, and from the damage to her ear, she was still a little unsteady on her feet.
“Well, did you get enough attention playing sick for all the nurses and doctors?” Eloise asked unkindly as John went to Gabriella's room to drop off her things and turn her bed down for her. The doctor had told him she should rest.
“I'm sorry, Mommy.”
“You should be. Whining little brat,” she said, and then turned on her heel and disappeared.
Gabriella had dinner with both her parents that night, and predictably it was a silent and awkward ordeal. Her mother was clearly angry at her, and her father was lost in another world, and had had too much to drink by the time they sat down to eat. Gabriella spilled some water on the table, and her hands shook as she quickly mopped it up.
‘Your table manners haven't improved in the last week. What did they do, feed you?” Eloise asked meanly, and Gabriella lowered her eyes, and thought it best not to speak. She never said a word during the entire meal. And as soon as she'd eaten the last bite of her dessert, her mother ordered her to her room. Gabriella could sense that a battle was brewing and it was a relief to leave.
She got into her bed immediately, and listened in the dark as her parents argued, and it was no surprise when she heard footsteps in her room late that night. She was sure it was her mother, and braced herself for what was to come. This time the covers were peeled back slowly, and she tensed her entire body and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the first familiar blow to strike her. But for a long moment, there was none. She could feel someone standing over her, but she couldn't smell her perfume, there was no sound, and nothing happened. After waiting an interminable moment she couldn't stand the suspense and opened her eyes.
“Hi… were you sleeping?…” It was her father, he was whispering, and all she could smell now was the whiskey on his breath. “I came to say… to see… if you were all right.” She nodded, confused. He never came into her room like that.
“Where's Mommy?”
“Asleep.” She exhaled slowly at the news, deeply relieved, although they both knew it wouldn't take much to wake her. “I just wanted to see you…” He sat down gently on the bed. “I'm sorry… about the hospital… and everything… The nurses said you were very brave…” But he already knew better than anyone how brave she was, far braver than he was.
“They were nice,” she whispered, watching his face in the darkness. She could see him clearly now in the moonlight from her window.
“How do you feel?”
“Okay… my ear still hurts… but I'm fine…” The headache had been gone for the past two days, and her ribs were still taped, as they would be for the next two weeks.
“Take care of yourself, Gabriella… always be brave, you're very strong.” She wondered why he said that to her, what he was really trying to say. And she couldn't help asking herself why he thought she was strong. She didn't feel it. Most of the time, she just