made his way to the end table and picked up the phone. Before dialing, he looked over his shoulder at Janice. “Don’t be afraid to take something down if you have to.” He then dialed Gabrielle’s cell and placed the phone to his ear. It rang several times before she answered.
“Yes.”
Already, Jack could detect tension in her voice. She sounded as if she were ready to end the conversation before it even began. “Where are you?”
“Home. Where else would I be?”
“What? When did you leave?”
There was a short pause. “Why are you calling me, Jack?”
“Why am I calling you? Why do you think I’m calling you? I’m trying to figure out where you went.”
Another pause, then Gabrielle spoke harshly. “Don’t play games with me, Jack.”
Janice was standing in the periphery, holding the painting up to the gallery.
“The last thing I’m in the mood for is games,” Jack said. “I want to know why you left.”
“You know full well why I left!”
“What’s gotten in to you?”
“Get the hell out.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what you told me last night: get the hell out. Remember now?”
“No, I don’t,” Jack said, stifling his temper. “I’m afraid you’ll have to refresh my memory.”
“Okay. If you insist on taking me through it all again. You said it was over. That we were over. You shoved me, then told me to get my things and leave.”
Janice glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw that Jack was thoroughly engaged in conversation, she slyly removed one of Gabrielle’s images and replaced it with the painting of Rose.
“I never did those things to you,” Jack said.
Gabrielle began to weep. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were right last night. It is over.”
“No it’s not,” Jack said as if commanding it not to be true. “We just need to talk.”
“I’m finished talking, Jack.”
“Meet me at Magnolia’s in one hour.”
“I will not! I told you, Jack. I can’t do this anymore.”
“One hour, Gabrielle. I’ll explain everything.”
Gabrielle said nothing.
“Gabrielle?”
Silence.
“Gabrielle!”
More silence. And then a soft click.
Jack looked at the receiver, then laid it back in its holder.
Janice was gazing at him. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Jack did not respond immediately. He merely stood there, his head bowed slightly, baffled. “Gabrielle… she says I threw her out last night.”
“Did you?”
“No. Of course not. But… it’s funny.”
“What?”
“Rose, the first thing she told me… was that I’d sent Gabrielle home.”
Janice turned and peered at the painting. “You see, Jack.”
He looked at her dumbly.
“It’s beginning.”
The room fell silent. Jack brought his eyes up to Rose’s form. Somewhere, deep within the quiet of the bedroom, he thought he heard a distant sound. It was Rose. She was laughing playfully.
CHAPTER 7 – DREAD
She knew she should not have come, but she did so anyway. Because she had to know.
Gabrielle Saltair pushed the door open and stepped out onto the hot pavement of the restaurant patio. She moved slowly, absent of everything around her, with a timidity that suggested she wanted to turn around and go back home. A great part of her did.
From the moment she’d decided to come to this place, a dark sense of dread had filled the air. She tried to pass it off as nothing more than the blustery winds of guilt, the same winds that had blown so constantly over the last two months, but it was clearly much more. It was as if coming here would mark the beginning of some strange and unalterable journey, one that would ultimately result in a truly terrible event. And yet she came anyway, brushing aside those tremulous fears, because she simply had to know.
The patio was sizeable, with enough tables
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley