It was hard to tell if she'd like him, or if she would disappoint him as she had everyone else. It was something she had come to expect now, a fear she lived with. She knew that if she loved someone enough, they would eventually come to hate her, and possibly leave her, just as her father had. And if her own father felt that way about her, who wouldn't? But maybe Frank would be different. It was hard to guess that. And just to relieve her own worries on the subject, she began writing stories about him, but when her mother found them, she tore them up and said she was a little slut, and she was after him herself. She had no idea what her mother meant, or why she was so angry. She had described him as Prince Charming in one of her stories, and she'd been beaten for it. It would undoubtedly have sickened Frank, if he knew that, but of course he didn't. He was already in California by then.
And on a bright Saturday morning, two weeks after Easter, her mother looked at her over breakfast, and smiled at her for what seemed like the first time in her life. It almost frightened Gabriella. There was something glittering in her eyes that warned Gabriella that, if she wasn't careful, there would be trouble. But all Eloise said was, “I'm leaving for Reno tomorrow.” And she seemed happy about it. “Are your bags packed, Gabriella?” Gabriella nodded silently in answer. And after breakfast, her mother checked her room and the suitcase, and nodded. Gabriella was relieved to see she hadn't made any unpardonable mistakes in her packing. She saw her mother glance around the room, as though checking to see if she'd forgotten anything, but she seemed satisfied with what she saw. There were no pictures on the walls, there never had been, and the single photograph she'd had of her father on her dresser had been thrown away by her mother shortly after he left. There was nothing to adorn the room, just her bed, the dresser, a chair, plain white curtains at the window, and a linoleum floor, which Jeannie helped her scrub every Tuesday afternoon.
“You won't need any fancy clothes, Gabriella. You can take the pink dress out of the suitcase,” was her only comment as Gabriella quickly removed it and hung it back in her closet before it could displease her further. “Don't forget your-school clothes.” The instructions were confusing, but she had packed some of them anyway because they were comfortable and warm and she wasn't sure how long they'd be staying in Reno. Her mother turned and looked at her then with a look of sarcasm that wasn't unfamiliar to Gabriella. “Your father is getting married in June. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that.” But all Gabriella felt was relief, along with the crushing disappointment of the realization that he was never coming back again. She had known it anyway, but now it was certain. But she was relieved to know he was alive, and hadn't died in a terrible accident, which would have explained his persistent silence. She had written a story about it, and it seemed so real as she wrote it that she had begun to fear that he really had died, and not just left them. “You won't be hearing from him again,” her mother confirmed for the ten thousandth time. “He doesn't care about either of us. He never did. He never loved you, or me. I want you to remember that, Gabriella. He never cared about you.” Eloise stared down at Gabriella with a spark of anger kindling in her eyes and she seemed to be waiting for an answer as Gabriella stood there. “You do know that, don't you?” Gabriella nodded in silence, wanting to say that she didn't believe her, but doing that might have cost her her life and she knew that as well. She was far too wise now to risk her own survival for the sake of defending her father. And perhaps he never had loved them, though she still found it hard to believe that. Perhaps if she had been better, and less troublesome, he might have loved them more, and stayed… but she still remembered the look in his eyes on that last night in her bedroom. His eyes had told her he loved her, no matter what her mother said now. That's what made