After Dea sent Gabby to school, she went straight to the Eleganté for her rehearsal for Carmen Suite as the principal dancer. She danced ever so gracefully to the intense tune played by her favorite pianist. The scene she practiced was a combination of arabesques, pirouettes and pointe work.
She danced nonstop until her cellphone rang. She paused in an arabesque before she decided to take a look at her phone. The screen showed a reminder. It read: Fetch Gabby in an hour.
She smiled then called to her pianist, “Mike, let’s call this a day. Thank you.”
Mike returned her smile, and packed his score sheets in his messenger bag before leaving.
“It’s Gabby, isn’t it?” said Professor Natalie as Dea removed her pointe shoes.
Professor Natalie was her eighth grade teacher on classical ballet at Novestilo. She remembered how the fifty-year old woman smiling at her right now pushed her to the ends of her abilities. That one she owed greatly to this woman.
She pulled her lips into a smile in response to the professor’s question. “I’ve got to go. Thanks, Professor.” She waved before walking out of the room.
“Mommy!” Gabby ran toward his mother’s direction once he saw her standing by the lobby of his school.
Dea stood there with her arms welcoming and waiting to squeeze her son into a tight hug. “How’s school, honey?” She then kissed his cheek.
While they walked where Dea parked her Chevy, Gabby replied in a nonchalant tone, “Just fine. I’m tired, Mom. Are we going home or am I gonna wait till you finish your rehearsals?”
Dea felt bad about having Gabby stay with her until dark every time her schedule was tight. She thought he was already used to that kind of setup since it was the routine since he was four. Now, he was seven yet it turned out he wasn’t, and would never get used to it.
She keyed in the ignition, looked at him and caressed his face. “We’ll be staying home today. What is more to that is Mommy’s gonna cook little Gabby’s favorite dish!”
With that announcement, Dea’s drained energy from the rehearsals was regenerated. Her source of strength, his smile – it erased any negative energy inside of her every time she would see his bright face.
Gabby clapped in delight, and his voice became jolly when he talked about his day at school. “You know what, Mommy, there’s this girl in the lower grade who’s being bullied.”
Dea kept her eyes focused on the road while her attention was on her son’s news. No parent would want his child being bullied.
Gabby continued. “They call her names – freak, crazy, lunatic.”
She saw from her peripheral vision when her son took a deep breath.
“Why?” Her curiosity kept on pestering her about this poor little girl.
“They say she talks to herself, that she pretends to be talking to imaginary people.”
And it clicked on her. She almost lost control of the car when a pedestrian crossed the road while the traffic light signaled, ‘Go’. “Shit!” She didn’t realize how long she’d been honking until her son called her attention.
“Mommy.”
“I’m okay, honey. Are you?” She looked at him for a second, and reassured him with a smile.
Dea saw him nod.
No matter how she ignored it, Dea was seeing herself in the shoes of the poor little girl her son told her about. She experienced being called a freak by the kids her age for talking to Cassiel.
Cassiel, she thought. She hadn’t seen him for years. No. She had forgotten all about him when she got in in Eleganté again, since she had everything she had ever wished for in its right place – her career and her family.
She let out a sigh. She decided she’d apologize to him that night after she put Gabby to bed. Dea owed Cassiel a lot. How could I forget the only person who was there through my ups and downs?
While she cooked for Gabby who was in the playroom which was just adjacent to the kitchen, Dea saw Cassiel sitting on a bar stool become visible.
Cassiel still sported that messy flaxen hair. He was looking at her blankly; he wasn’t accusing nor greeting her right that moment.
Like the dish she was cooking, her insides boiled with happiness she couldn’t contain that she ran toward him, and embraced him so tight. “Cassiel!” she said to the top of her voice. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
She felt his torso move up and down, and in sync with the harmonious tone he breathed out near her right ear. “Like I could hold any grudge against you, little Andrea,” he said while playing with her hair.
Just when they released their hug, a voice said, “Mommy?”
Eyes wide in shock, she faced her son; Cassiel was suppressing a laugh through pursed lips. “Yes, honey?”
Gabby’s eyebrow arched? “Were you calling me? I thought I heard my name. You said, ‘Cassiel’,” he mimicked her voice while saying her angel friend’s name.
She secretly looked at all smiles Cassiel while laughing, and walked toward her son. She cupped his face, and said, “Yes, I called your name. Food’s ready.” She pointed at the casserole atop her induction cooker.
“I miss this, Mom. I wish we could have more days like this one,” Gabby said while munching his food. He seemed to be enjoying the rest of the day with her mom at their house. “And I wish Dad would have free time to have lunch with us.”
“We will, honey. Soon.”
Few day ago, Gabriel told Dea about this huge project he was in charged to make. A huge project was equivalent to a huge amount of time to be spent by Gabriel in the office as well as in the actual site which made it all the more hard for them to have lunch as a family during weekdays. But Dea promised Gabby they would, anyway. She wouldn’t dare erase that smile in his face in exchange for the uncertain. Certainly not.
After lunch, Dea fought the urge to practice dancing, and instead, went to the playroom to be with Gabby. They played cars, and role playing games like Gabby as the superhero and Dea as the villain until Gabby was drained of energy. He fell asleep while his mom sang him a lullaby.
That night, Gabriel went home tired, and his eyes were red like he just cried. Dea noticed them but didn’t say a word, and just kissed him. She felt his warm lips against hers but it wasn’t the warmth she knew. It was getting hotter, and her husband was feeling so weak he slumped his body on the couch.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, still shocked by what happened to her husband. She didn’t know what to do? It seemed to her that she lost all her senses seeing her husband unconscious.
“Gab,” she said while she pressed her hand on his cheek.
Slowly, he opened his eyes as if his eyelids were so heavy they’d close again in no time. Gabriel mirrored her action; he held one side of her face, and smiled. “I’m okay. It’s just fever.”
It was not not just fever; it was a flu. And it sure wouldn’t let him work for a day or two.
Dea helped him to go upstairs; Cassiel following them. She readied all that she needed, face towel, a basin with water, thermometer, and a fifteen-minute soup she cooked just so Gabriel’s stomach would be filled before he got to sleep.
She time after time would check if her husband’s temperature changed. But instead of going down, it’d gone up to 38.9°C. She was afraid Gabriel might convulsed so she asked for Cassiel’s help.
“Just pray. God won’t let him suffer for so long. I’ve seen how good your husband is to you and the others.” He patted her back when she began crying.
She believed.
The next day, Dea checked Gabriel’s temperature and it wasn’t as high as it was the night before. Still, Gabriel couldn’t go to work because he was weak, and his body ached.
Dea was up for a rehearsal. She needed to send Gabby to school in the afternoon. But no one would be left to take care of her husband.
“I feel better than yesterday, Babe. I can manage.” He flashed his teeth. “Go to work. Also, you don’t want our son to be late, right?”
Dea saw the digital clock atop their bedside table. If they didn’t leave the house now, Gabby would be running late. She trusted her husband when he said he’d be okay alone.
“Okay, then. Get well. I love you.” She kissed him before she and Gabby left.
Gabby, on the other hand, waved goodbye to his father.
Dea danced with her mind on her husband’s condition. Have he eaten yet? Is he okay? She couldn’t focus well enough to make her not trip for several times – the same number of times she had to repeat a three-minute song. She was tired, yes, but more was her mind.
When the grandfather clock in the studio struck twelve, she hurried to go home.
Gabby would be fetched by her mother in the fear that he might also catch flu. He’d stay there until his father recuperated.
On her way to their house, she turned on the radio. She enjoyed the music until something caught her eye. She slowed down to 20 Kph to confirm if she saw it right.
She braked to a full stop, few meters far enough to go unnoticed and near enough to see them. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There was Talitha by the street walking with Gabriel. She felt her grip on the steering wheel when she saw them cuddling.
I thought he’s not feeling well, that he’s still weak. What’s this?
Hands trembling, she searched for her cellphone inside her bag. She could be wrong. She speed dialed his number and it rang. And the little tinge of hope was gone.
He answered the phone at the same time the man in front of her held his phone up to his ear. “Hello?” His hoarse voice was apparent.
She cleared her throat but her eyes started streaming water. She took a deep breath. “H-hello. H-how are you?”
“Hey Babe!” He sounded like there was no guilt in his tone. “I’m feeling better now. I wish I’d be sick for a few more days so you’d nurse me.” Then he laughed.
There was a voice that laughed in the background, too. It sounded much like her former best friend’s voice.
She smiled bitterly even though Gabriel couldn’t see her. “Seems like it. See you later. I love you.” She hung up and didn’t wait for his reply.
The man put his phone in his front pocket, and shrugged. Then he leaned in to kiss Talitha.
Dea couldn’t bear to watch them. She sped her way to only God knew where. She got out of her Chevy and examined the place. It was a park, an abandoned park. No one was there except her. Nobody walked by the streets.
She sat on the rusty swing. It made a cracking sound like it were breaking but she sat still, anyway. She covered her face with her hands, and cried.
“Why are you crying?” a familiar voice asked.
Dea looked at the direction where the voice came.
Now, Cassiel’s and her face were leveled; he was on a kneeling position. His eyes were smiling as bright as his lips when pulled from ear to ear. He wiped her tears with his thumbs, and hugged her while patting her back. “Whatever it is, everything will be fine.”
She cried for about an hour. Cassiel spent that same hour trying to cheer her up. She would smile sometimes then would go back sobbing.
The sun had already set when she got home. She immediately went upstairs to see if Gabriel was there. He was. He was sitting on the bed reading, and stopped when he noticed Dea by the door. She approached her, and said, “I told you I’m feeling better.” He winked.
If he hadn’t been cheating on her, maybe she’d giggle at that little gesture. But things were different now. She placed her palm on his forehead, and it felt like his body temperature was close to normal.
He hugged her tight. “I missed you, Babe.”
She didn’t reply, released herself from the hug, and said, “I’ll cook you chicken noodle soup.” She forced a smile and closed the door.
She prepared the ingredients for the soup including ethanol, a little bit of vodka, and a spice in the form of a fertilizer she got from her backyard.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cassiel almost shouted at her.
She continued like she heard nothing. The soup was almost cooked when she heard the doorknob clicked. Dea was about to ask who it was but then she already saw another ballerina body heading upstairs in no haste.
“Talitha,” she said then her lips grew into a smile. “You never should’ve messed with Andrea.”
She stirred the bowl of soup one last time before going upstairs.
She entered the room seeing only her husband who was back at reading. She examined the room, looking left and right.
"What is it, Babe?" he asked, closing the book while Dea placed the tray on the bed.
Dea shook her head, and focused herself on stirring the soup.
"Ahh," said Gabriel when he swallowed the soup. He enjoyed every spoonful Dea gave him. Then he choked. "Water."
Dea immediately ran to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When she got back, she saw Talitha strangling her husband. Her grip loosened which caused the glass to shatter to pieces.
The sound got the attention of Talitha. She was smiling.
It was clearly seen in Gabriel's body that he was having a hard time breathing. It was like he was trying to catch some air but the lady was strangling him.
A figure by the window was caught by Dea's eyes. It was Cassiel looking so furious at her husband murmuring under his breath. What's he doing?
Dea didn't know how to react. Should she stop the woman from killing her husband? Should she distract Cassiel from putting on Gabriel what seemed to her as a curse? Or should she let them and be happy that Talitha made the job easier for her?
She saw him trying to speak; he was looking at her straight in the eyes. Then, "D-Dea," was Gabriel's last word.
She just stood there by the door when Talitha walked past her with a raised eyebrow, a smirk plastered on her face, and index finger sealing her mouth.
Dea awoke, beads of sweat almost covered her entire body. That’s one kind of a nightmare, she told herself. She turned to the other side to see the face of her loving husband.
His face looked serene. She saw that moment so precious because never had she the chance to wake up earlier than Gabriel. His face was something to brighten up your day. Dea smiled then traced his prominent jawline. She held the side of his face and it was cold.
Just then had she realized how pallid his complexion was, how stiff his body lay, and why there was no air coming out of his nose since twenty seconds ago.
He’s dead!