Part One

~

Long Island , New York

August 10

John Ravolie exited the doorway and stepped into the hall. A step beyond his wife’s hospital room, he raked his hands through his unwashed hair and wiped his swollen nose with a fist. Just outside the door, J.J. Shedel sat in a chair against the wall. In his lap, three-year-old Robbie faced him. John noticed father and son playing thumb wars. John brushed his knuckles over Robbie’s head and playfully messed up his mop of blond hair. Shedel looked over his left shoulder, looking for an answer that John wouldn’t give him just yet. John closed his tired eyes and briefly shook his head.

            In the hallway, many people were waiting for a response from John. Already, others were grieving, John noticed, as husbands held their sobbing wives. Gabrielle’s parents seemed to be glancing angrily at him. They had to blame someone, John figured. He still blamed himself, and the weight of the guilt stabbed him painfully.

            John noticed Michael Newtonendie staring over the rim of his Styrofoam cup; her father took a sip of his coffee. His precious Bobbie, his only daughter, would be gone soon, John thought, if she hadn’t departed in her sleep. Then he wandered mournfully through the hall.

            Almost a half-hour had passed since Gabrielle’s head had drooped, her muscles weakened and her pale face sagged with no emotion. John could still hear the echo of his young daughter’s voice. “No Mommy! Don’t die. You’ll miss the party.”

Part Two

~~

Gabrielle peered at the man with the girl in the doorway and then turned toward John.

            John shrugged his shoulders.

            “Katie, it’s me,” gasped the man. “Michael.”

            “Do you recognize him?” John asked Gabrielle, as he glanced at her and noticed she was suddenly pale.

            “John?” She looked over her shoulder, and then at Michael standing behind the young girl with his hands on her shoulders. “Catch me.”

“KATHRYN, LOVE! Wake up!” Michael yelled into her ear.

            “Back off!” John shouted, as he carried Gabrielle to the sofa within the foyer and set her down gently. “Who are you?”

            “I’m her husband.”

            “Not possible,” John said. “If you married her twelve years ago, I was her husband. She was already married.”

            “She’s my wife, Kathryn.”

            “Where’s your proof?” John asked him.

            He dug out a crumpled piece of paper, folded in fours, from his pants pocket, and handed it to John. John unfolded it. “She’s our daughter, Chastity,” Michael said.

            “Hey, is she going to be all right?” Chastity asked John, while sitting next to Gabrielle.

            Gabrielle began to come to, squinting to focus her eyes and managing a cotton-mouthed whisper, “John?”

            “I’m here, baby.” He went to her side. “Do you know who he is?” John asked her.

            “No.” Gabrielle sat, attempting to focus on something within the room.

            Swiftly, John turned around. “Get out of my house!” He threw the paper at him. “Anyone can get a marriage license. Where’s the document showing you were legally married?”

            “I have pictures¾” he reached inside his jacket “¾Pictures don’t lie.”

            “Oh yes, they do,” said Gabrielle, trying to stand.

            Swiftly, John pulled out his gun and aimed it at Michael’s head.

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Falling Roses: The Years Between copyright ©2007 Rosemarie Piemonte, All Rights Reserved.