doesn't want me, does she?” Gabriella said bluntly. There were shards of pain in her eyes, and relief, at the same time, which confused the woman who watched her.
“You can't look at it that way, Gabriella. She's confused. She's still very hurt by your father leaving both of you, and now she has a chance for a new life. I think she wants to make sure it's a good one before she brings you to it. That's sensible of her, and although it's hard to be away from her, it's very loving of her to leave you here with people who care about you and want to make you happy.” It was a nice thought, but Gabriella knew it was more complicated than that, and she understood the subtleties better than she should have.
“My parents hated each other, and she says they never loved me.”
“I don't believe that. Do you?” Mother Gregoria said gently, praying that she didn't, but fearing that they had been far too open with her, just as Eloise had been on the phone with the Mother Superior. She had said it in no uncertain terms the day before: “I don't want her with me.” Mother Gregoria would have cut her tongue out before repeating that to Gabriella.
“I think my father used to love me… sort of… he never… he never did anything to…” Her eyes filled with tears remembering all the times he had stood in doorways, watching helplessly, or listened to her screams from the next room while her mother beat her. How could he have loved her? And he had left, hadn't he? He had never looked back, never written, never called. It was hard to believe he still loved her, if he ever had, which for a long time now, she doubted. And now her mother was doing the same thing. She was glad in a way. It meant the beatings would never happen again, she would never have to hide, and pray, and beg, and go to a hospital because she had been beaten so badly, and wait for the moment when her mother would finally kill her. It was over. But it also meant facing all that her mother had never felt for her, and never would. In spite of the nun's gentle words, Gabriella knew that her mother would never come back now. The war was over. But the dream of being loved by her one day, of doing it right, of winning her love at last, died with it.
“She's never coming back, is she?” Gabriella's eyes bore straight into the Mother Superior's, and the child's eyes were so direct and so clear, the question in them so powerful that Mother Gregoria knew she could not lie to her.
“I don't know, Gabriella. I don't think she knows. Maybe she will one day, but maybe not for a long time.” It was as honest as she could be without telling her the whole truth. Essentially, she had been abandoned by both her parents, and no matter what Mother Gregoria said now, Gabriella knew it.
“I don't think she's ever coming back… just like my father. My mother said he's going to be married to someone else, and he has new children.”
“That won't make him love you less.” But there was no denying he had never contacted her, and she suspected that Eloise wouldn't be in touch with Gabriella either. They were despicable people, and it was hard to understand how they could abandon a child like this one. But Mother Gregoria knew it happened, she had seen it. She had cried over children like Gabriella before. She was only very glad that they could be there for her. And perhaps this was God's way of making His wishes known. Perhaps her place was here with them, perhaps in time she herself would hear Him, and somewhat cautiously she said so. “Maybe one day you'll decide to stay with us, Gabriella. When you're grown up. Maybe this was God's way to bring you to us.”
“You mean like Julie?” Gabriella looked startled by what Mother Gregoria had suggested. She couldn't even begin to imagine being a nun like they were. They were much too good, and she was much too bad, they just didn't know it. And she was still trying to absorb the shock of hearing that her mother had moved to San Francisco and left her. She couldn't help wondering if her mother had known that when she left her there. But