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Chapter 8

Gabriel

“Sorry, did you say something?” I ask. I’m pretty sure I just heard her in my hallway.

“Nope! Nothing to hear here!” she says perkily before the patter of her feet sounds out on my wood floors.

From what I can tell her apartment is the mirror image of mine. But a hell of a lot better looking. She has things hanging on her wall for one. Including a vulva. There’s a story behind that, but I’m not sure I can ask without popping a chubby.

“OK, act cool, Gabriel. You’ve got her here. Now it’s wooing time.” Grammy claps her hands in excitement and I wave at her to settle down.

“First off, you saw what I do for work. I can’t pull Brenna into that. Nope. No way. She’s too good for all that.”

Grammy rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Now act normal and not like you’ve been talking to her dead Grammy.”

I snap to attention when Brenna comes to a stop in the doorway. She stares at me for a moment then takes one big step into the room before shuffling to the other side of the kitchen counter, eyes wide.

“It’s so weird being in a mirror image of my apartment.” She looks around the kitchen dining area. “And how differently we decorate.”

I’ve not seen further into her home than the entry, but judging by that little glimpse I know her home is full of color and knick knacks and things that scream “Brenna”. Looking around my apartment, it kinda screams “sad, lonely man.” Maybe my sister is right when she comes over and bags my decor.

“Yeah, I bet your home is full of color.” I say, plating up a cute as fuck cupcake. It’s so well decorated I almost feel bad about eating it.

Brenna snorts a little. “Yeah. I kinda have a thing for color.” She shyly perches on a bar stool at the counter. “I think it goes back to when my parents passed away. It took a few days for Grammy to get to me as we were living across the country so I had to stay with child services. The lady there made me wear black the whole time, for mourning or something. It was so sad and dull and dreary and then Grammy walked in wearing a purple tracksuit.” She smiles to herself, stuck in the memory. “But not any purple tracksuit. This one had a stripe of sequins down the arms and legs. I remember sitting in this sad little room on a bed that smelled weird and then this old lady in sequins turns up, looking for me. I remember the light bouncing off her tracksuit, dancing on the walls and ceiling and then I was in Grammy’s arms and I knew everything was going to be alright and I was never going to wear black ever again.”

My fingers twitch to reach out to her, and I try my hardest to hold back. Until I notice a lone tear, slowly travelling down her plump cheek and my control breaks. Reaching out I cup her face gently, using my thumb to wipe away the tear.

“Oh,” she gasps, her eyes crossing as she tries to look my hand on her face.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“I’m not,” she murmurs back before letting out a happy little sigh and nuzzling into my hand just a touch before pulling back. Sniffing and smiling. “Anyhoo, Grammy whizzed me away and we lived the very best life together.”

A sniffling sound draws my attention behind me but Grammy tearfully waves me off.

“You miss her,” I state. I don’t need to ask. I know.

“Yeah. But she’s not far. I, it’s going to sound really weird-” She turns her gaze to the wall, making out like it’s the most interesting millennial grey wall she’s ever seen.

“Babe, I’ve seen and heard a lot of weird shit. It can’t be that weird.”

She huffs a little before peeking up at me. “OK. I miss her physically because I can’t hug her or smell her, but I don’t feel alone. I’ve never really felt alone. Even when mom and dad passed away, I wasn’t alone then either. Grammy always said it was my guardian angel, but I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it felt more…full once Grammy passed away. I know it sounds weird, but she feels like she’s here with me.” She leans forward slightly. “Sometimes, I swear I hear her.”

I side eye Grammy who has her hands slapped over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Really?” I ask, trying to be comforting and normal. Totally normal.

“Crazy I know, but I dunno, it makes me feel better. She’s not really gone. Like an imaginary friend.” She snorts.

“Ha,” I honk out.

“You should tell her who your imaginary friend is, Gabe,” Grammy snorts before cackling.

Brenna’s head snaps up, and she looks around the room, her gaze landing on the exact spot Grammy happens to be sitting. “Weird, I’m certain I just heard Grammy laughing,” she murmurs.

“Wait, did you hear that?”

“Huh? It’s probably just your TV or something,” Brenna says, waving a hand at me. “I hear you yelling at it all the time.” She grins. “I mean not that I’m listening in or anything, that would be weird. And creepy.” Her eyes grow huge and her face turns an adorable shade of pink.