Ch. 4

A/N: Just wanted to give a shout-out to my followers... I come home and find I have more than two! LOL Well, I'm back from my mini-weekend getaway and I will be posting regularly until further notice.  Next Ch. will be up at 8pm tonight, so stay tuned! P.S. I'd love to hear from you...makes life more interesting for me! :o) Oh, and to listen to the soundtrack for the Ch. don't forget to click on the name of the song... it will take you to a youtube link of it. Music makes everything better!

Change everything you are
And everything you were
Your number has been called
Fights and battles have begun
Revenge will surely come
Your hard times are ahead

Best,
You've got to be the best
You've got to change the world
And use this chance to be heard
Your time is now

Don't let yourself down
Don't let yourself go
Your last chance has arrived

MUSE – Butterflies and Hurricanes

Ch. 4

“I have to do this, Tyler,” I said sincerely as we stood holding hands on the sidewalk next to my car.  “I’m going to Philadelphia to hopefully find a new start when I begin grad school at Drexel.”

Even though he had a frown on his face, I knew he understood my decision.  We had grown apart and after losing the baby, nothing had gone back to what it had remotely been.  We were just going through the motions of being a couple and it was time to go our separate ways.  I’m comfortable in saying that if Brendan wouldn’t have been killed, things would have been completely different between Tyler and me; he was definitely someone I saw myself staying with for years to come.  However, events change a person and I was a living example of that.

First rule of this lifestyle change, no more dating professional hockey players.

“Call me when you get to Philly,” he said with some tears forming in his eyes as he cupped my cheek with his large hand.  “I love you, Abby and know that I will always be here when you want to talk or hang out.”

I smiled up at him, trying to keep my own tears at bay.  “I love you too, Tyler.  Thank you for everything and I’m happy to know I can still call you a good friend.”

Before he could pull me into a hug and possibly make me change my mind, I turned and walked around to the driver’s side of my car.  “Go Leafs!” I chided.

“Go Leafs!” he joked back, smacking the roof of my car as I pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust on my past.

“So what’s the plan?”  My brother Patrick asked as we sat across from each other while I was sampling my first Philly cheesesteak at Pat’s.

“Well, everyone back home thinks I’m starting a semester early at Drexel; instead I’m just going to get a job and work for the next few months and hopefully get my life back in order.  Living in the glass bubble of the Burke Family is not helping me move on from everything.”

“Does Dad know what you are doing?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, he and mom are the only two, besides you now,” I smiled warily.  “Are you sure it’s okay if I crash at your apartment?”

“Of course, I’m rarely here unless I’m required to be.”  Patrick was a scout for the Flyers while he was going to Law School in Boston.  Life as a scout required a lot of travel, but he somehow was able to juggle that and school perfectly.  Patrick was always the over-achiever in the family, at least that’s how I always described him.  He was following in the footsteps of my father; not that I was far behind with my career track in business management with a concentration in corporate finance.  “But what am I supposed to tell people when they ask who you are?  I mean I know some people around here are going to recognize you…”

“They won’t recognize me after my appointment at the salon later on today,” I said with a broadening smile.

“Abby,” he practically whined.  “What the hell are you going to do?”

“I told you, I’m here to become a new person,” I said with a wink.  Before he could speak again I spoke up, “I’ll be Gabby, your cousin from our mom’s side.”

“Gabby?” he repeated with raised eyebrows.

“Yup.”

“This is completely ridiculous…who names their kid Gabby?” he asked incredulously.

“It’s another nickname for Abigail, so people won’t question if I tell them my name is Gabby, yet my tax papers read Abigail.  Besides, do you want you happy-go-lucky sister back again or not?” I asked seriously while I reached over and squeezed his hand.  If this was going to work, I was going to need his full support in this.

“I do,” he answered sincerely.  “I miss my happy Abby,” he said in the childish voice everyone in my family used when they said those words.

“I miss her too,” I confessed.

And thus Operation Happy Abby has commenced.

“Wow!” my make-over guru gasped as she finished rinsing out the hair dye.  “I can’t believe how amazing you are going to look with the strawberry blonde hair!”

“I hope so,” I breathed nervously.  I always had dark brown hair, hell I had never even dared to put in sun-in when it was popular several years ago; my dark hair was one of my favorite features.

I went silent when she began making the first cuts to my beloved hair, a tear fell down my cheek as my hair dropped to the floor.  “It’s going to be beautiful, I promise,” the girl leaned down and whispered so that only I could hear her.  I just smiled and nodded back, praying she was right.  3 hours later I walked out of the salon with a a strawberry blonde bob.  The top had long layers that came to my chin and the back was short enough that I could leave it either straight or spike it out in the back if I felt compelled to do so.  We dyed my eyebrows to match my new hair color, making me look like I had been born to be a red-head.  My green eyes were brighter than ever, causing me to suck in a breath when I looked into the mirror the first time.  I didn’t even recognize myself.

The next thing on my list was to get a job.  A week after living in city, I had a few job offers.  I was offered a job at a law firm as a receptionist, a job as a day-care worker and a job as a waitress at the Continental Restaurant and Martini Bar.  The restaurant was on

Market St.

in Old City Philly, and a fairly upscale place that would get me good tips and give me a chance to meet a lot of different people.  Patrick approved of the choice as soon as I told him about it.

“I’ve eaten there several times and spent my fair share of time at the Martini bar,” he winked as we walked through down the grocery store aisle.  I was glad that we could spend a couple weeks together before he left for Boston to start classes again, it had been several years since Patrick and I had a long alone time together.  He, Brendan and I were the 3 Amigo’s growing up; I was sandwiched between the two boys.  When Dad was away, Patrick took over as the fatherly figured, even though we were all young.  Brendan and Patrick were the only constant things in my life, especially after our parents split and our dad re-married.  Things weren’t always rosy in the beginning when we began splitting our time between parents, but after my half sisters were born things progressively became better.  Jennifer seemed to turn my father back towards the importance of his family and suddenly family dinners were no longer an awkward silent film.  Brendan’s coming out made us even closer, willing and ready to go to battle with whoever criticized our family.  Brendan’s death ultimately pulled us the closest, yet little by little I felt like I was falling farther away from everyone as my depression pulled me under.

“So how do you think I’ll look in a white dress shirt and a black skirt?” I joked as I held a box of Cheerios out in front of me like a food tray.

“You’ll be one classy Burke,” he laughed as he smacked his hand up underneath the box, causing it to fly up in the air, making me scramble to catch it before it hit the ground.  “Well, at least you have quick reflexes to catch the flying food when you tip your tray,” he laughed as he scooted down the aisle before I could smack him with the cereal box.

The job proved to be harder than any office job I had worked over the last several years.  This was no sit on your ass and answer phone calls while you fix the filing system kind of job.  I would come home at night with swollen feet and an aching back, but I took pride in knowing that I was getting better as each night I counted my tips that seemed to be getting higher each end of shift.  By the time Patrick left for Boston, I was able to give him my half of the rent for 3 months in advance.

“Gabby,” he said, using my name that I had finally gotten used to hearing and began answering to without someone having to call it twice before I realized they were talking to me.  “Promise me you will get out and party with some of your co-workers, I’m afraid you are going to just hang out around here and be a loner…”

I put my hands on his shoulders and as I held him at an arms length away from me.  “Kristy has already said she’ll make sure I won’t grow old with cats,” I laughed at my new friend and co-worker.  Kristy was a grad student from University of Penn who was studying to be a doctor.  She was crazy gifted at so many things, including music.  Her nonchalant attitude always struck me odd because she could easily come across as a dumb blonde, but she was probably one of the smartest women I had ever met.  The one thing that bothered me was the fact that I was completely lying about myself to her.  She was a big Flyer’s fan and because of that she didn’t even know that Patrick was a scout for the team.  She thought we were cousins and that Patrick just had rich parents that lived somewhere in Philly.  She knew he was a Law student, but not much more than that.  I played like I wasn’t a huge hockey fan, which she found appalling since I had lived in Toronto for so long.  It was easy in the beginning to play these identity games, but the closer we got the bigger the lies became and I knew at some point I’d have to tell her the truth.  Just not yet.

Another issue of sorts was that she had a huge crush on Patrick, but he was just too wrapped up in his job and life goals.  “Speaking of Kristy…” I began slowly with a wink.

“What?” Patrick asked, sincerely not having a clue that she had it bad for him.  It’s not like she didn’t drop enough hints when she’d come over to visit.  She always dressed in low-cut shirts and short skirts; even if we were just planning on having a movie and wine night in, just to get Patrick’s attention.  If I didn’t know any better I would have thought that maybe he was gay, but Patrick was just like my father, focused and trying to get to the next stage in his life plan.  Marriage or relationships of course, were somewhere at the bottom of the list.

“Dude, I think you should ask her out on a date before you head back to Boston,” I finally just blurted out.  “You need to make time for yourself for a change.”

Patrick looked at me, rolled his eyes and turned away to grab a drink out of the fridge.  “Please, Abby, you know I have no time for a relationship.  Furthermore, how am I supposed to go on a date with her when all we’ve been doing is lying to her?” he shot back at me with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled back slowly, feeling bad that I was dragging my brother into my quagmire of problems.

He came over and pulled me into a hug.  “It’s not a problem, Abby, things will work out for you soon and then we won’t have to be in such a spiderweb mess,” he said, consoling me.

I sighed and hugged him tighter.  I always loved hugging my brothers; they always made me feel safe.  If only I could find a man that wasn’t a family member who could make me feel this safe.  “Well, as for your excuse of not having time to go on a date, I call foul on that.”

He chuckled at me for going back to original subject.  “Oh, and why is that?”

“I call foul on it because you don’t make time for a relationship; you are so much like Daddy on that…”

He pulled back from our hug and shook his head at me, smiling.  “Well, I must say, you’ve only been Gabby for few weeks and already I am beginning to see the old outspoken Abby showing through.  No, scratch that, I’m fairly sure this is the pain in the ass, Abby showing up…”

“HarHarHar, Patrick!” I said in a deeper voice to mock him.  “She’s really smart,” I persisted.

“If she was smart she wouldn’t wear such revealing clothing all the time,” he folded his arms and looked at me with another raised eyebrow, looking so much like my father.

“Oh, so you doooo notice?” I played back, not allowing his seriousness to dampen my spirits.

“Hard not to.”

“She just wanted you to notice her,” I whined.

“Well, I’ve noticed.”

“And?”

“And, she’s pretty but I don’t have the time.”

“Men.”

“Women.”  Thus ending a typical brother/sister argument with Patrick before he left me on my own in Philly so that I could continue finding my way in this world that had lost me almost a year ago.