The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written

by H. M. Mann

  A rumble shook the house.

  That sounds like … a Vega.

  “Johnny’s here!” Angel cried. “Mama, Johnny’s here!”

  Gloria wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go back to sleep and growl at the pit bull yoga instructor. She wanted to sit in the bathroom all night flushing her life away. She wanted to do anything but open her door and walk down those stairs.

  Three strong knocks sounded from the front door.

  Gloria turned her doorknob, pulled her door to her, and walked into the unknown.

  34

  Johnny hadn’t wanted to go to the door, but because he had to park behind a new Toyota Prius, he became curious. Who drives the golf cart? Did Gloria break down and get a car? And why a hybrid? Hybrids are so … trendy, so tacky. He looked at himself, wearing his full Señor Pizza outfit so he would look completely professional. Okay. I’m a bit tacky, too.

  When the door opened and Johnny saw a tall, dark stranger with long hair holding Angel’s hand and Gloria all dressed up and coming down the stairs, however, Johnny wished, secretly, that he had rear-ended the Prius, dropped the pizzas on the street, run over them and the Prius several times, and peeled what rubber remained on the Vega’s tires in his haste to go to a place where he could go properly insane.

  “Howdy, Johnny,” Marion said. “Won’t you come in?”

  Johnny glanced to his left and saw four Christmas presents stacked under the window. Maybe they just want me here to collect my gifts. He looked up and blinked several times faster than a parrot at the woman slinking down the stairs. He couldn’t take his eyes off Gloria, who froze halfway down and looked away from him. His arms and shoulders lost feeling, and he started to hyperventilate. “Um, thirty even, um, thirty dollars.” Those aren’t sensible shoes, my former sweet patootie, and whoa, you never dressed up for me like that. Geez. I was just here a few weeks ago, and now this?

  “The money is in the kitchen, Johnny,” Marion said.

  Of course it’s in the kitchen. I’m not falling for that. Johnny focused on Marion’s wrinkled chin. “Um, ma’am, regulations forbid—”

  “Nonsense,” Marion said. “I can’t carry all those pizzas to the kitchen by myself. I’m an old lady, Johnny.” She stepped closer. “Get your butt in there,” she whispered, “and don’t you ever call me ‘ma’am’ again.”

  Well, with such a sweet invitation like that, I can’t possibly refuse. Johnny took one hesitant step inside the house and stopped, his eyes drifting to Angel’s smile. She only has eyes for this man, so he has to be her long-lost daddy. How … coincidental. “Um, I’ll just …” Stand here looking confused, angry, and flusterated. I’m good at doing that.

  “Johnny,” Angel said. “This is my daddy. His name is Paul Leffel, and he’s an archaeologist.”

  No … way! Johnny thought. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to lose it entirely, but he didn’t want the remaining marbles in his head to trip anyone. He wanted to thank the romance gods for throwing several romance novel clichés into the current scene all at once—the long-lost love returns, the meddling mother, the former lover jumping for the next man on the rebound, the father’s return to his daughter, the ex-boyfriend’s comeuppance.

  Paul, however, looked dumbfounded and lost, his eyes darting past Johnny for the front door, his mouth open for the flies. Wait a minute, Johnny thought. I bet he just found out he’s a daddy. Whoa. I didn’t know this was a surprise party. And the only person not surprised by all this is a scary looking woman with white hair and more wrinkles than God.

  “Um, nice to meet you, Paul,” Johnny said, looking up the stairs at Gloria, who was still frozen and gripping the banister tightly. Don’t let go of that banister, Gloria, or you’ll fall through to the basement where you once wanted me to live. “Angel is quite a scholar.” I wish I could say “Open, simsim” right now and disappear, but I’m holding four pizzas and my breath. He exhaled. “You, um, you look nice, Gloria.” And they make a nice looking family, too, pretty as a picture they could put on the wall in the hallway for Marion to brag on to the next pizza delivery man. They could even share the same hairbrush. Is all his hair, um, his?

  “Put the pizzas in the kitchen now, Johnny,” Marion said.

  Johnny nodded but moved slowly from the door to the kitchen, staring a hole in Gloria’s left hand still gripping the banister. The placeholder is gone, too. Nice. He entered the kitchen and spaced the boxes on the table.

  Marion gave him two twenties. “How have you been?”

  “Okay.” Well, I was okay. Now I’m just … KO-ed.

  “You don’t look okay,” Marion said.

  “Okay, I’m not okay,” Johnny said. “Happy?”

  “It’s your own fault, you know.”

  Johnny’s jaw dropped. “How is it my fault?” he whispered.

  Marion shrugged. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

  I couldn’t reach it from the bathroom! “Just haven’t, Marion.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marion placed him in a chair. “Sit.”

  Johnny shook his head and stood. “Let me give you your change.”

  Marion pushed him down. “I said sit. Good dog.”

  Johnny sat and stared at his hands. Nice paws, Johnny. But why are they shaking?

  “Pastor Payton has been calling you, too, you know,” Gloria said.

  Probably only wants me write an Easter play. Sure. In my present doubting Thomas state, I’m sure I could write a real hum-dinger of a play. Thomas would ask, “Why did God allow the shooting at Tech to happen, Pastor?” and the pastor wouldn’t have an answer.

  “Gloria looks fit to burst out of those slacks and that blouse, huh?” Marion said, hovering behind him. “She hasn’t worn that outfit since last Christmas. It all barely fits her.”

  So she can look hot for Paul, Johnny thought. So she can show me what I’m missing, so she can complete the cliché of the butterfly woman emerging from her cocoon at the end of the novel.

  “What’s your point, Marion?” What does she expect me to say? That Gloria is truly buxom? She is, but I already knew that.

  “If you haven’t noticed, Gloria has lost a lot of weight,” Marion said. “Stress will do that to a body, you know.”

  I know, but if she’s busting out of that outfit, why is she wearing it? To appear more buxom than she already is? That’s not possible! I will never understand women.

  Marion squinted at Johnny. “Boy, you’ve lost twenty pounds at least since I last saw you. Are you stressed out, too?”

  There’s much less stress when I’m alone in the Vega. “I gotta go.”

  “And what’s up with the beard?”

  Johnny leaned forward to get away from Marion’s bobbing head. “I’m in Moses mode.” Now let your pizza man go!

  Marion whispered in his ear, “Planning on leading anyone out of here tonight?”

  “Just myself.” He looked from his hands behind him to Marion’s nose. “Well, I’ll, um, see you later, Marion.” He tried to stand, but Marion’s firm fingers dug into his shoulders.

  “It’s your time, Johnny,” Marion whispered.

  “Not this again,” Johnny whispered. “It was supposed to be my time a month ago.”

  Marion shrugged. “So I’m a month off. I’m old. The calendar and I aren’t exactly friends, you know. I make deals with it, but it doesn’t even blink. And now is your time.”

  “No it isn’t. Paul’s in the other room, so it must be his time, right?”

  Marion shook her head. “Paul is not having the time of his life right now, I assure you. This is his very first visit, and he’s just been introduced to his daughter. He isn’t exactly taking it too well. You see how wide open his mouth is? I won’t need those no-pest strips to catch the flies this winter.”

  Am I supposed to care how Paul feels? Johnny thought. Um, no.

  “You still have that ring?” Marion asked.

  “What?” And Gloria says that I have bad transiti
ons.

  “Round thing, usually gold, might have a speck of a diamond on it.”

  “Yes, I still have it.” It’s playing with the pennies in my bowl of change.

  “She loves you, Johnny,” Marion whispered. “You know it, I know it, and now she finally knows it. She’s just not willing to say it. Want to make her surer of you?”

  There are absolutely no secrets in this house, Johnny thought. I’m sure someone is listening to us now as well.

  “Drop to a knee and prove your love to her right now,” Marion whispered.

  “Right in front of Paul? Are you crazy?”

  Marion nodded. “Since the sixties.”

  Johnny wanted to tell Marion that she probably had the onset of Alzheimer’s. He wanted to ask if dementia ran in her family. How is this my time? The ring is back at the apartment. Nice timing. Does Marion actually want me to propose in front of Gloria’s baby’s daddy? That just doesn’t happen, not even in the biggest farce of a movie or romance novel. “Paul is out there right now—”

  “Paul is just visiting his daughter,” Marion interrupted. “He’s liable to do that from time to time. Angel is his daughter as of, oh, about twenty minutes ago, and you’re just going to have to get used to the idea.”

  Sucks to be him, and it sucks to be me. “But Gloria won’t—”

  “How do you know?” Marion interrupted. “You never even asked her to marry you that night, right?” She opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of lemonade. “Homemade lemonade. You have to try some.”

  Another nice transition. “I’ll pass.” Lemonade would zip right through me, dragging some milk and crackers along with it.

  Marion poured him a glass and put it in front of him. “Try it.”

  Johnny took a sip. Not bad.

  “Good, right?” Marion asked.

  Johnny nodded and took another sip.

  “Kind of like Gloria, huh?” Marion added more lemonade to Johnny’s glass. “Sweet and sour mixed together. And watery. Girl cries herself to sleep just about every night.”

  She’s crying every night … “Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Marion said.

  Right. Marion knows everything. She should go on Jeopardy.

  “You’ll just have to ask her. Go on.” She tugged at Johnny’s jacket. “She’s probably still rooted to the stairs.”

  Johnny stood and almost stumbled into the hallway, gripping the banister for support. Gloria sat on the bottom step, her arms around her knees. He looked at Gloria’s insensible shoes. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Johnny peeked at Gloria’s lips and saw a straight line. “Um, good.”

  I don’t know what to say, Gloria thought. “How have you been, Johnny?”

  Johnny nodded at Paul and Angel in the living room and forced a smile. “I’m fine, too.” Gee, we’re both fine. Guess it’s a fine time to leave.

  I can’t just sit here forever. Gloria stood and walked past Johnny and into the living room, Johnny hovering behind Angel. “Paul,” she said, “we need to talk.”

  Paul nodded.

  She turned to Johnny. “Johnny, we really need to talk.”

  Johnny nodded. That’s a powerful sentence after all. No wonder romance writers use it.

  Marion walked out of the kitchen clapping her hands. “Why don’t we all do some talking over dinner? The pizza’s getting cold.”

  Johnny backed toward the front door. “I’m, um, I can’t …”

  Marion grabbed his arm. “I’ll take care of it. Paul?”

  Paul took a step toward Marion, his hand still ensconced in Angel’s small hand. “Yes?”

  “Paul, I have to do every little thing around here,” Marion said. “If it weren’t for me, nothing would ever get done. What do you think of that?”

  Paul kept silent.

  “Don’t move,” Marion said to Johnny, and she picked up the hall phone and dialed a number. “Hector, this is Marion. Hi. Um, Johnny’s car just ran out of gas in front of my house. I don’t think he’ll be delivering any more pizzas for a while.” Marion grinned and covered the mouthpiece. “He’s surprisingly happy.” She uncovered the mouthpiece. “He, um, he walked out of here to get some gas. Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage till he gets there, if he ever gets there. Bye.” She hung up the phone. “Okay, now who wants pizza?”

  Angel dragged Paul into the kitchen, and when Johnny tried to follow, Marion put one hand on his chest and pointed to the bottom step with the other. “Sit.”

  Johnny sat.

  “Good dog.” Marion smiled and waltzed into the kitchen.

  Johnny looked over at Gloria. “Arf.”

  Gloria sat a foot away from him.

  Johnny looked at her left hand. “The, um, placeholder.”

  I keep forgetting this man has a thing for my hands. “Oh, it, um, broke a while ago.” When you broke my heart by leaving and then shutting me out. “I don’t know where it is.”

  “Cheap Chinese rubber band,” Johnny said. “Probably had lead paint on it anyway.”

  “I’m … I’m sorry I lost it,” Gloria said. She took off her shoes, threw them up the stairs behind her, and wiggled her toes. “I hate those shoes.”

  “Me, too.” Johnny folded his hands on his knees. “So, um, here we are.” Looking like two gargoyles at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Yeah.” I have so much to say, but I can’t find any of the words! “Um, well, uh …” Nice intro. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Angel told Paul he was her daddy the second he walked in, so I didn’t get the chance to tell him. As for this little … situation … I just found out a few minutes ago that you were coming over.”

  “Busy day.”

  “Yeah.”

  Johnny exhaled deeply. “So why were you calling me at work? It looks as if your life is coming together just fine without me.”

  Gloria scowled and shook her head. “So you knew I was calling.”

  Johnny nodded. “Just didn’t have anything to say to you. Still don’t, really.”

  “Look, it’s not what it looks like, okay?” Gloria said. “All this is a surprise to me. You have to believe me.”

  “Oh, I believe you,” Johnny said. “But try to see all this through my eyes. I walk in and see Paul … here … and you’re all dressed up … and Angel’s holding his hand and smiling … And I think it’s all some sick joke, you know?”

  “It was all Mama, not me,” Gloria said softly. “She set all this up.”

  “Yet you’re still all dressed up for Paul.”

  Because I … Okay, I dressed up—a little. “This isn’t dressed up at all, Johnny.”

  “You’ve lost weight.”

  She nodded. “You, too. Except for the beard. What’s it weigh? Five pounds?”

  Johnny smiled at his hands. “Three. Hard to get my chin on the scale just right.”

  Tears formed behind Gloria’s eyes. That’s the Johnny I know … and love? I wish I knew! “Maybe I accidentally dressed up for you.”

  Johnny raised his eyebrows. “Which is very interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “You never dressed up for me before,” Johnny said. “And church doesn’t count.”

  “I never thought I had to.”

  “You didn’t,” Johnny said. He wanted to say, “You don’t,” but he couldn’t put any of this in the present tense because he was so tense. “I’m just saying that … maybe once you could have, I don’t know. You haven’t seen this … invisible man for five years, and the first thing you do is get all foo-foo.” Ha! I used “foo-foo” in a sentence for the first time in my life!

  Foo-foo? What is this crap? “There’s nothing wrong with me trying to look nice. And anyway, I thought you were through with me. You’re the one who walked out of here, not me.”

  The gloves are coming off. Her little dots for eyes are back. “After you all but said that you didn’t love me. Angel seems happy, tho
ugh. I’ve never seen her smile like that.”

  Gloria sighed. “You make her smile, too.”

  “Not like that. She only rolls her eyes at me.”

  Gloria reached for Johnny’s hand then brought it back to her knees. “Johnny, I, um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the other night.”

  “Me, too. Just me and the little people.” And the mice. Always the mice.

  “And I was wrong about … some of the things I said,” Gloria said.

  But not all of them. Hmm. “Just some?”

  “Most of them.”

  But still not all. She’s not exactly saying she loves me, but I’m not going to force it this time. I don’t want to hear her say she doesn’t love me again. “Still unsure and confused?”

  “Not as confused as I was then.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes, each starting to say something and stopping several times. Gloria’s mouth opened and shut, while Johnny’s mouth shut and opened.

  They were definitely out of synch.

  This interlude would just suck in a romance novel, Johnny thought. I’d get hate mail for sure. “I enjoyed this novel until the two of them were sitting on the stairs looking like gargoyles—what the heck are those, anyway?—not talking to each other. I mean, O-M-G, that just should never happen in any relationship! What were you thinking, yo?”

  “Johnny?”

  “Yes?”

  And there’s the spacey man I’ve missed so much. “Johnny, I want you around all the time,” Gloria whispered. “I want you in my life every day.”

  Johnny looked toward the kitchen. “What about Paul?”

  “I don’t know,” Gloria said. “We haven’t had any time to talk, right?”

  “Do you want him in your life, too?”

  He asks too many questions. “For Angel’s sake, yes. For our sake … He’ll just be in it, okay? I don’t love him, I never loved him. We just had a child, that’s all.”

  “That could be us, too.”

  But I don’t want that! “Are you … are you still mad at me?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t hesitate at all, Gloria thought. He’s definitely not shy when he’s angry.

  “But I’m mostly kind of sad,” Johnny said. “But saying I’m sad at you makes no sense at all. You make me so sad, Gloria.”