The last time we saw the two together was at the funeral of Parker’s brother-in-law, who was tragically killed in a car accident. Grainy photos of the two of them in Montana circulated and gave Gabcinda fans a glimmer of hope that their marriage would survive his continuous fall from grace.
But it’s clear that whatever spark had them rushing off to Vegas all those years ago has finally gone out.
BROAD SHEETS
GABE PARKER:
Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Three
By Chani Horowitz
Remember what I said earlier about being a lightweight? Well, I wake up on Sunday morning with a pounding headache and the reminder that while they are beautiful and delicious, pink ombre drinks are not my friend.
The reason I’m awake, though, is almost enough to cure my hangover.
Because it’s a text from Gabe checking in on me.
Yes, the future Bond, James Bond, texted me the morning after a premiere—and after-party—that I basically weaseled my way into and drank too much at. Texted to check up on me and give me his cure for a hangover.
Eat a big breakfast, he tells me. No caffeine. Lots of water.
It’s very sweet.
Somehow, I’m able to roll myself out of bed and sit upright at my computer. My intention, of course, is to write this article.
Before I can—there’s another text from Gabe.
If you’re free, I’m having a party tonight.
If I’m free.
I’ve never been more free in my life.
I spend the rest of the day hydrating and telling my reflection that we are not allowed any drinks. Of any kind.
Reader, I’m sure it won’t surprise you to learn that these pep talks amounted to bubkes in the face of a celebrity’s house party and an open bar.
Let me set the scene for you.
There’s the aforementioned open bar. There’s a beautiful backyard with a pool and hot tub. It is filled with equally beautiful people. Yes, it’s December, but it’s also California and the pool is heated. I can see the steam floating off it from where I’m standing in the living room waiting for the next round of Running Pyramid to start.
That’s right. Running Pyramid.
I’m not good at games.
I’m not good at running games. I’m not good at word games. I’m not good at games.
You will not be surprised to learn that Gabe is very, very good at Running Pyramid.
You may be surprised, however, to learn that this is usually how his house parties go. Not the booze-soaked, endless orgies of Hollywood lore. Nope, instead, we all take turns running from room to room, reading prompts off a list and trying to get our teammates to guess correctly with a few choice words.
I was assured that it would be easier with a drink under my belt.
That might be true for some, but I tried it, and trust me, it did not get any easier. I’d like to share with you stories of how actors like Oliver Matthias and designers like Margot Rivera killed at this game, but unfortunately, after only one drink on very little sleep, I completely passed out.
In Gabe’s dog bed.
I don’t remember much of the rest of the evening, but I do know that at some point, Gabe himself lifted me up and out of the dog bed, and carried me into his guest room. Where he tucked me in and left me to sleep off the second drunken night we’d spent together.
The evening didn’t end there.
When I woke up—head aching, mouth dry—I had no idea where I was at first. I was in a strange, dark room. There was the soft, muffled sound of talking on the other side of the door. It sounded almost familiar. Somehow, I hoisted myself upright, and found my way out. It wasn’t until I got to the living room that I remembered what had happened.
It helped that Gabe was sitting on the couch watching TV. He filled me in on some of the more unfamiliar details—like the fact that I’d uncovered a natural talent for Running Pyramid and was also a very sore loser. Apparently, I had ended up in the dog bed because I hadn’t liked how the other team kept winning. I had been convinced they were cheating.
Gabe helped soothe my embarrassment by offering me popcorn. He has his own little machine that he set up on the counter of his kitchen. That way he can give the puppy some before he puts his own toppings on it.
His toppings of choice? Cinnamon and sugar.
The TV show he paired with it? Star Trek: The Next Generation.
That’s right, my dears, Gabe Parker is a Trekkie.
I’m a Trekkie as well, but let’s face it, that’s not surprising at all.
Gabe’s favorite character? Worf. Mine? Data. I’m certain a therapist could go to town with those revelations, but all Gabe and I did with it was watch several episodes of our favorite show before we went to bed.