by Lucy Score
The stupid, sexy, haunted jerk.
One look at him, all scruffy and gruff, and she’d wanted to run down the stairs and jump into his arms. Then he’d had to open his mouth and be New Aldo. New, angry, wounded Aldo. He didn’t want her anywhere near him. He’d made it abundantly clear on two occasions now.
She should just let it go.
“But he owes me an apology,” she argued with the ceiling. And an explanation. Gloria wanted to hear the words explaining why he went from wanting to date her to wanting nothing to do with her. She wanted him to spell it out for her, and then she wanted her chance to tell him he was an ass.
She heard a knock on her front door and kicked the covers off.
Opening the door, she found Harper in the hallway.
“I know about Karen,” Harper said.
Any imaginary arguments with Aldo immediately took a back seat in Gloria’s brain.
Her friend’s eyes were red and puffy. She was wearing pajama pants and a National Guard t-shirt four sizes too big.
“I didn’t realize there was a time you didn’t know,” Gloria said, guiding Harper into the living room. Luke’s wife, his high school sweetheart, had been killed in a car accident the day Luke’s unit had returned home from a long deployment. She’d died on her way to pick him up. A travesty that, until recently, the entire town of Benevolence had assumed he’d never recover from.
“He was married, Gloria. Married, and he never said a word to me,” Harper said, pacing the short distance between window and door. “He lost the love of his life in the most horrific way.” She covered her face with her hands.
She was being called upon for comfort, Gloria realized. Tea. Isn’t that what people did to comfort hurt and tenderly care?
“I’ll make tea,” she announced.
“I’ll sit here and wonder what it means that the man I love with every piece of my stupid heart didn’t find it relevant to share the most important awful thing in his life with me,” Harper said, falling down onto Gloria’s couch with a noise between a sob and a sigh.
Gloria ripped open her beverage cabinet and debated tea flavors. Sleepytime, Energizing Citrus, or good ol’ English Breakfast? Definitely Sleepytime.
She put a kettle on, chose two cheerful mugs, and returned to the living room to clumsily offer comfort.
Sitting next to Harper, Gloria patted her friend on the knee.
“I shared things with him. Ugly things,” Harper said, sniffling.
Gloria handed over a box of tissues and said nothing.
“I told him about foster care and…and the abuse,” Harper said. “I trusted him with my ugliness.”
Wordlessly, Gloria squeezed her friend’s wrist. My ugliness. That’s exactly what it felt like to have those dark shadows inside her. Something terrible and ugly that needed to stay hidden so it wouldn’t taint anyone else.
“What did he say to that?” Gloria asked. What would a man say to the woman he cared for when she talked of a pain he could never take away?
“Not much,” Harper choked out a laugh. “Getting more than three words out of him at a time is physically exhausting. But he didn’t make me feel ugly or damaged. Why didn’t he trust me, Gloria?” Her eyes beseeched Gloria for a reason that wouldn’t hurt, wouldn’t bruise her heart even more than it already was.
The kettle whistled from the kitchen.
“I’ll be back,” Gloria said, patting Harper’s hand. “Hang in there a minute.”
She used the tea preparation to settle and collect her thoughts.
When she returned with a pretty tray of steaming tea and tiny cookies, Harper was blowing her nose and adding to the stack of tissues piled in front of her.
“Does this mean he doesn’t love me?” Harper asked.
Gloria set the tray down on the ottoman. “No,” she said definitively.
“He’s never said it,” Harper pointed out. “I assumed—hoped—he had a hard time saying it. But maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel that way about me?”
Gloria had never seen a man more in love with a woman than Luke Garrison. Whether he had the balls to admit it to himself or to Harper was another story.
“He cares. He asked you to stay.”
“Maybe he just needed a housesitter?” Harper sniffled.
That’s all Gloria had turned out to be for Aldo, hadn’t she? Shut up, Gloria told herself. This wasn’t her pity party. She had important friend duties to attend to, and she wasn’t going to mess this up.
“He cares for you, Harper. You know it. Don’t let this doubt take that away from you. Believe in your gut.”
“Then why would he keep this from me?”
Gloria shook her head. “The workings of the male mind are a mystery to me. If I had to guess, maybe he didn’t want to hurt you or hurt himself by telling it. I’ve never heard him mention her name since. Maybe he can’t? Was it hard for you to tell him about your…story?”
Harper blinked and thought. “Yeah. I guess so. I don’t like talking about it. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or think that I’m some kind of victim.”
“I get that,” Gloria told her.
Harper looked at her and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be weird. We both know what it’s like, and we’re both freaking fantastic women now that some lucky, handsome men are going to spend their lives being grateful for.”
“I don’t think he trusts me.”
Gloria picked up her tea. “I don’t agree with you. But I do agree this is a big problem. So what are you going to do about it?”
Harper reached for the plate of cookies. “I don’t know. I don’t think this is a ‘you’re a million miles away, so let’s talk about our relationship’ kind of conversation. I can’t email him about this.”
“No,” Gloria agreed.
“So I guess I just try to process all of it until he comes home and then dump it on him like a bucket of ice water? ‘Welcome home, Luke. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about Karen?’”
“We’ll work on your delivery.”
Harper laughed and shoved a cookie in her mouth. “Thanks for being here for me.”
“Anytime,” Gloria said and meant it.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, feet tucked under them, sipping tea.
“How in the hell did no one in this big-mouthed little town spill the beans on this?” Harper wondered aloud.
Gloria gave a half smile. Benevolence was not known for its ability to keep quiet. “Well, I can’t say for sure. I wasn’t exactly in the loop when it all happened. But I think Luke took it very hard. Hard enough that his family worried they’d lose him too.”
Harper closed her eyes, and a tear slid free.
“I’m sorry,” Gloria said quickly.
“No, it’s just. Ugh. I’m being selfish and a horrible person. Can I say it and you won’t hold it against me?” Harper begged.
“Absolutely.”
“He loved her that much. Does that mean that he can’t love me at all? And am I willing to settle for scraps?”
“That doesn’t make you a horrible person,” Gloria said, nudging Harper with her bare foot. “That makes you a human being.”
“I love him so much,” Harper said quietly.
“I know you do. And you can do that no matter what happens. There’s never anything wrong with loving someone,” Gloria told her.
Harper let out a long, slow breath. “You’re right. Thanks, Gloria.”
“Do you want more tea?” Gloria offered.
“Do you have beer and chocolate?”
35
She should have been nervous. She should be trying to talk herself out of something she was most definitely going to regret. But for once in her whole life, Gloria had a full head of steam, and she was going to take it out on someone.
If Harper could find the guts to confront Luke when he came home, even if it meant jeopardizing her home, her job, and her relationship, then Gloria could march right up t
o Aldo’s face and let him have a piece of her mind.
Ignoring the doorbell that she’d personally cleaned the cobwebs from yesterday, she lifted her fist and pounded on the door.
“For chrissake, Ma, use your damn key,” Aldo bellowed from inside.
Gloria was not Ma, but she did have a key that she hadn’t bothered returning yet.
She let herself in, glaring left and right, but the first floor was empty.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Aldo groused from the second floor. But Gloria was already on the stairs.
She pushed his bedroom door open so hard it bounced off of the wall, and she had to shove it again to walk inside.
Aldo was speechless…and gloriously naked.
She sucked in a breath that sounded like a wheeze.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his prosthetic leg in hand. She’d seen him shirtless before. Had memorized the muscle and ink that covered his torso. He was leaner now, she noted. His cheeks more hollow above what was turning into a beard. There was an exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders. But he was still her Aldo.
It wasn’t the brutal red scarring covering his knee and what remained of his left leg that drew her eye. No, it was the glimpse of long, girthy cock between his legs.
Holy shit. She’d only seen one other penis live and in person, and it wasn’t even half the size of Aldo’s…member. She felt a little dizzy. And a lot distracted.
“Jesus! Gloria?” he choked her name out and dove for his bedsheets.
From somewhere in her cock fog, Gloria noticed that he was more concerned with hiding his leg than he was his hypnotic penis. It was that glimpse of humiliation she saw in his eyes that had her turning around to face the open doorway.
“I have something to say,” she told him, or rather the hallway.
There was a clunk behind her as his prosthesis hit the floor. Aldo swore under his breath.
“I’m happy you’re home and that you’re safe,” she began.
He made a noise like he was going to interrupt, but she cut him off.
“Shut up. I’m not done. I’m glad you’re home, but I’m very angry and disappointed with you. You made me feel like you saw a future with me. You let me get excited about that possibility. You made me think you believed in me…and now you want nothing to do with me. No explanations. No apologies. Just done.”
“Gloria,” he began quietly. She could hear the resignation. Years of dodging tempers had taught her how to be a reader of people.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she pressed on. “I don’t know if you met someone else while you were deployed or you decided I wasn’t what you wanted. But either way, you owe me the courtesy of an explanation. I deserve better than you having your mother slam the door in my face or you yelling at me when all I did was something nice for you. I expect you to be brave enough, man enough, to tell me why I’m not what you want.”
She chanced a glance over her shoulder and found Aldo covered from the waist down in the sheets she’d washed for him. He was looking appropriately shamed, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Aldo,” she continued softly. “You made me feel like I was nothing to you.”
The sigh that rose from his chest seemed to take all his effort. “You’re not nothing.” He gritted out the words like they caused him pain.
“I’m done letting people do that. I’m not nothing. You’d be damn lucky to have me. Anyone would.” She choked on the last word and cursed herself. She would not cry. She wouldn’t be the victim here. Nope. She would go home and blubber like a baby. But she would not give Aldo a glimpse of the fresh hurt he’d caused her. Her newly rediscovered pride wouldn’t allow it.
“What do you want me to do? Hop after you?” The bitterness in his words arrowed straight to her heart and broke a piece off.
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Gloria snapped, and good Lord did it feel good to finally speak her mind. He didn’t need her pity. He needed someone to slap him upside the head, give him a good shake.
He brought his head up.
“You don’t know anything, Gloria.” He spoke quietly and without heat.
She absorbed the words the way she would a blow. Waited for the burn of shame. But her anger, bright and sharp, shielded her.
Gloria looked down pointedly at where the sheet covered his left leg. “I know a lot more about wounds and healing than you might think. And I know they don’t give anyone a license to be a dick—” An image of Aldo’s appendage appeared before her eyes. “An asshole, I mean.”
Those brown eyes of his flashed with anger, and Gloria patted herself on the back. At least there was something else besides self-pity there now.
“You owe me an explanation and an apology,” she repeated. “I’ll be waiting for both.” On those victorious words, she shut his bedroom door behind her with a mid-grade slam and stomped out of his house. But not before leaving his house key front and center on his dining table.
Gloria woke with a start. Her apartment was dark and quiet. Aldo’s t-shirt, the one she’d liberated from his dresser, stuck to her face when she slowly sat up. She hadn’t expected to feel so many emotions when taking this stand.
Her head hurt from the crying jag she’d allowed herself after confronting Aldo. Her eyes were swollen, but she felt liberated.
She had wanted to matter to him so much. She’d wanted that future he’d talked about. Desperately. But not with a man who didn’t think she deserved an explanation. Not with the Aldo Moretta who came home a stranger. He had shadows on his own soul now.
She checked her phone, telling herself it was only to see the time. But she still bit her lip when she saw there were no messages, no missed calls.
He was hurting. Not just physically. There was a hole in Aldo Moretta’s spirit. She knew from experience that no one else could fix it. Not her mother, not a sharp-tongued doctor. She had to be the one to pull herself from the murk. Aldo had to do the same.
She stroked a hand over the t-shirt once and then, biting her lip, folded it neatly and stuffed it in the back of her second-hand dresser that she’d found on the cheap at a yard sale.
She’d put him away and focus on building this new life for herself. And she’d hope that Aldo would find the strength to heal from his own wounds.
Feeling a little extra lonely, Gloria padded into her kitchen to make a dinner for one.
36
The Fourth of July dawned hot and humid with no thunderstorms in the forecast. And Benevolence was ready for it. Every inch of Main Street was decked out in patriotic bunting. The park was groomed within an inch of its life, ready, for a few thousand people to tromp through it eating cotton candy and winning goldfish.
Three stories above it all, Gloria stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Do not freak out,” she cautioned. “You worked hard and did the absolute best you could. If it’s a total flop, you can slink out of town and start a new life under an assumed name.”
Maybe Margot? She could sell insurance. Run a book club. Meet a nice guy named Todd or James and go to Applebee’s every Tuesday for date night.
Plan B settled, Gloria tied a wide red bandana around her dark hair. She looked…ready.
Gloria couldn’t remember looking in the mirror and liking what she saw more than she did in that moment. Her white shorts showed off bruise-free legs, and the navy-blue tank nicely showcased arms that were beginning to take shape. She looked strong, festive, and maybe even pretty. Inspired, Gloria dragged her makeup tote out from under the sink and skillfully applied a cat eye and subtle sparkle to her eyelids. She painted her lips a patriotic red with stain and then gloss.
“Happy Fourth of July,” she whispered.
On her way out the door, she glanced at the letter on the table. She’d been too busy to open this one. That said something. She just didn’t have the time to figure out what. The personal protection order was stalled until Glenn made some sort of overt threat.
But the man was behind bars, and her focus was on giving her town the best Fourth of July celebration it had ever had.
Main Street Benevolence was a hive of activity. The finish line for the 5k race happened to be right in front of her building, and the judges’ bandstand for the parade floats was set up across the street in front of the police station.
Gloria grabbed her phone and clipboard with her checklists, settled her sunglasses over her eyes, and took a deep breath. All the wheeling and dealing, the hand-holding, the hours of organizing and answering questions was about to come to fruition.
She was terrified.
What if it sucked? What if she’d organized the worst Fourth of July celebration in the town’s history?
“Well, at least I won’t be poor little Gloria Parker then,” she reminded herself. “I’ll be that idiot who ruined an entire holiday.”
“Georgia Rae hasn’t called me fourteen times this morning bitching and moaning about her damn parking space,” Ty said, stepping up onto the curb to meet her. He tucked his thumbs into his utility belt. “Far as I’m concerned, this is the best Fourth we’ve ever had around here.”
“You’re only saying that because the fireworks didn’t ignite the snow cone tiki hut yet. I should have moved it to the other side of the park. It’s going to be a four-alarm blaze once the fireworks start,” Gloria moaned.
Ty put a hand on her shoulder. “You did good, Parker. Deal with it.”
“Thanks, Ty.” She could tell him about the letter now. But tomorrow was soon enough. She had bigger fish to fry than Glenn Diller right now.
His radio squawked, and he grinned. “I’ll see you around.”
To-do list in hand, Gloria jogged off in the direction of the park to make sure everything was exactly right.
“I can’t believe nothing’s caught fire or a swarm of killer bees and locusts hasn’t descended yet,” Gloria said, unfolding one of the lawn chairs her mother brought.
“That’s what I love about you, mija. Your incessant positivity,” her mother snickered, taking the seat.