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“What do you want to watch?” I ask as if I don’t know the answer already.
After grabbing the milk out of the fridge, I realized Gabe has yet to answer me. I look over my shoulder to find my son’s face pressed to the patio door.
“Hey, what are you looking at?”
“Hulk,” he says.
This kid has been mentioning Hulk a lot lately. Usually, it’s Iron Man and Black Panther that gets all the attention.
“What is Hulk doing out in this rain? He needs to get back to the other Avengers,” I joke.
“He’s just watching us.”
Something about the calm way he says those words has me pausing with the milk carton in my hand. My stomach tightens.
“Gabe, what does Hulk look like?” I ask, placing the milk down and making my way over to the patio.
“Like me,” Gabe says without looking away from the door. “But bigger.”
The tightening in my stomach turns to full out pains. I rush to the door and glance out. Just as I do, lightening cracks across the sky illuminating my back yard and the man standing there.
Anger fills me. I slide the door open and stomp out toward him ignoring the cold droplets of rain against my skin. Gabriel’s piercing eyes stare at me as I approach. His clothes are soaked and the rain has saturated his hair causing it to lay heavy and flat against his shoulders.
“No,” I say marching up to him. “Go away.”
“Summer,” he tries to speak but I don’t want to hear it.
Last time I talked to Gabriel he told me he didn’t want to be with us. I refuse to allow him to yoyo Gabe around with his presence.
“You don’t get to do this. You can’t come and go in and out of his life. Get out of here.” I shove him, but I might as well be pushing a brick wall. He doesn’t even sway.
“No, Mommy. Hulk stays,” Gabe shouts. I had no idea he followed me out into the rain.
His presence and hearing him plead for his father makes me angrier.
“Go,” I shout at Gabriel. But he remains in his spot looking down at me.
I shove him once again, putting all of my force into it. Still no movement from him. Balling up my fist, I punch him in the chest. My hand throbs from the impact, but I don’t stop swinging.
“No, Mommy. Don’t hurt my friend,” Gabe shouts behind me.
I ignore him, continuing to pound on Gabriel getting all my frustrations out. I hit him for the fact he thought he could walk in and out of our lives. I hit him because it took him five years to break out and come find us. Also, because in those five years he never thought to reach out to us.
I pound my fists against his chest for all the nights I stayed up running that infamous night through my head. And lastly, I hit him because even though he’s unhinged and a reminder of the old me, I missed him.
Gabriel allows me to continue to attack him, never even putting up a hand to protect himself.
“Go away. We don’t need you,” I sob as my arms lose the strength to strike him again.
I collapse into his chest and cry. The rain has soaked through my braids and my nightgown. I imagine I look like a crazy person.
“I’m sorry, Summer,” his gruff voice says, and I can hear the pain in his tone.
I’m not foolish enough to think that my attack caused him any harm. No, something else is bothering him.
Lifting my head from his stomach, I look up into his stoic face. He cuts his eyes away from me briefly before looking back at me.
“They found you.”
