Gloria, page 10
Might as well take a few minutes to chat with Bailey since she had made the trip down the mountain. Nodding over at the radio Bailey left on the counter, she asked, “Was that Ethan on the communicator? When I came in, I mean.”
“On my— you mean my radio? Um. Well, yeah.” The teen looked embarrassed, but she looked pleased, too. “I guess it was.”
“I thought I recognized the voice. He’s a friend of yours, right?”
Twin spots of color rose high on her cheeks. “A friend. Maybe more. It’s new.”
“That’s so nice. You guys would make a cute couple and he seems like a good kid. I like him.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Bailey cleared her throat. “And, before you ask, I’m gonna tell my brother one of these days, too, so don’t worry about him not knowing. I just… you know, I’ve got to wait until after Christmas. Frank will be in a much better mood by then.”
Gloria couldn’t stop herself from nodding in agreement. “I hope so. Your brother, uh… he doesn’t like this time of year.”
“Well, yeah, but I understand. It always hits him way worse than the rest of us. I mean, I was only like two when Mom walked out on us right before Christmas. Oh, crud. It’s today, actually. Didn’t even realize it ‘til I just thought about it right now. Mom walked out fifteen years ago today. No wonder Franklin buzzed earlier and told me he was heading out of town to get supplies. He tends to go mope city around the anniversary and… and you didn’t know about any of this, did you?”
No. Gloria didn’t. Though, all of a sudden, Franklin’s irrational dislike of Christmas made a whole lot more sense than it did before she walked into the garage.
It was like Gloria and October. She hated the freaking month. If the fire had happened during the holidays—if Nana had passed away during the end of December—wouldn’t she be a Grinch, too?
“Oh, man. Frank hates it when I talk about our mom. He blames her for leaving even though, you ask me, it was probably the best thing for us. Hamlet was too small for her, and Dad’s way happier with Vanessa. It’s just… well, you know how Frank can get. Man, he’s gonna be so ticked that I said something.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna say anything unless Franklin says something to me first. But,” she added, partly because she was curious, and partly because she wanted to wipe that worried expression from Bailey’s face, “you know, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”
Bailey’s relief that Gloria was dropping the subject was palpable. “Sure. Anything.”
“A couple of weeks ago, the first time I came to your brother’s garage… you were saying something about a chain. I went exploring—”
The relief didn’t last. Bailey took in a deep breath, her eyes going wide. “Oh, no. Did you tell Frank you were doing that?”
“What? No. Why should I?”
“Jeez, Gloria. My brother would have my hide if he knew you actually went searching for that spot.”
“Why? What is it?”
Bailey tightened her lips, shaking her head.
“Come on, Bailey,” Gloria wheedled with an innocent grin. “How will I know how to avoid it if I don’t even know what it is?”
The girl exhaled softly through her nose. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to say anything to Frank about it.”
Gloria crossed her heart. “You have my word.”
“First of all, if you were looking around where you and Franklin live, I’m not surprised you couldn’t find it. The spot’s a little closer to town, tucked closer to the bottom of the mountains, hidden in the trees. You don’t even see the chain unless someone’s using it. There’s these two posts, right? When the chain’s in the dirt, it’s hidden and you know the spot is free. If someone loops the chain across the two posts, the spot’s taken.”
“Taken for what?”
“You know. It’s where some of us kids go when we’re looking for a little privacy.” Bailey leaned in, her dark hair a curtain as she whispered conspiratorially to Gloria. “In case you didn’t notice, Hamlet’s kinda a small town. You gotta take whatever privacy you can get.”
Understanding dawned on Gloria. “So… it’s like a make-out spot?”
“Something like that. I mean, it’s an open secret. Everyone in Hamlet knows about it. You gotta respect the chain. It’s just… the adults pretend to forget it’s there once they stop having a reason to use it. You understand?”
Gloria did. After all, she’d been young once. And when she was dating Xavier, they had a couple of spots they liked to go to to get away from Nana’s careful eye. So, yeah, she understood the meaning behind the mountainside make-out spot.
That didn’t mean she understood what the big deal was that she’d been curious enough to look for it.
“Why would he be mad if I went there?”
Bailey gave her an expression that, in teen terms, totally meant no, duh. “‘Cause he wants to be the one to take you there.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Frank has got it bad for you, Gloria. You had to have known that.”
No. She didn’t. “You got it wrong. He’s only been spending so much time with me because he felt bad when I fell.”
“Your wrist looks okay to me,” Bailey said, gesturing at her bandage-free wrist. “Now, tell me: is my brother still stopping by your place?”
“When he has the time, sure. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are all old people that oblivious?”
“Hey! I’m not that old.”
“You’re, like, seven or eight years older than me. That’s a lifetime,” Bailey told her. “And Frank? He’s almost thirty.”
She said it like it was a dirty word. For a teenager, Gloria guessed it was.
“So?”
Bailey shrugged. “It’s about time he settled down with a good girl who cares about him. And before you try to tell me that you don’t, or you’re not, think about the ice cream in Frank’s fridge. You came all the way down here to bring him some.”
Gloria didn’t have an answer for that. With an impish grin, she nodded, then pointed at Bailey. “You may have a point. Just make sure your brother gets some of the ice cream, okay?”
Her dark eyes, so similar to Franklin’s, twinkled innocently. “No promises.”
Gloria chuckled, already running through her ingredients to see if she could make another batch for Franklin or if she needed to swing by Jefferson’s for some of the essentials.
“It was nice talking to you, Bailey. Tell Ethan I said hi.”
“I will. See ya later.”
With a wave, Gloria started to head toward the door, pausing when Bailey called after her.
“Hey, Gloria?”
“Yeah?”
“I… quick question. Did Frank mention to you that Deputy Walsh stopped by the garage the other day?”
Gloria shook her head. “No. Can’t say that he did.”
“Huh. When you see him again, maybe you should ask him about that.”
Yeah. Maybe she would.
Franklin returned to the mountain so late that night, it was already dark by the time she heard his truck pulling into the drive.
To her surprise and delight, once he parked his truck and killed the engine, he didn’t go home. At least, not to his home.
Within seconds of his arrival, Gloria heard a knock at her front door. She went to open it, smiling when she found him standing on her porch.
With his hands in his pockets, and a bit of an embarrassed smile, he asked, “Up for a little company tonight?”
Gloria would never turn a friend in need away. It just wasn’t the type of person she was. But to have it be Franklin, who was so clearly struggling…
“Always.”
He slipped inside her house. Gloria closed the door behind him and, without a word, gestured for him to join her on the couch in front of the television.
Franklin didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The gray storm clouds that seemed to follow in his wake those first few days she met him had returned with a vengeance. Even if she didn’t know the reason behind his bad mood, she would’ve recognized that he was in the middle of one.
After Nana’s passing, Gloria threw herself into things that made her happy so that she never got too lost in her grief. Ice cream was a biggie. Already such a huge part of her life, she spent those first few terrible weeks creating recipe after recipe, flavor after flavor, anything to keep from focusing on how lonely she was.
So after she got Franklin to join her on the couch, she put on a mindless movie she thought he might like—for the first time in days, she made sure there wasn’t a single Christmas element in the whole film—and made him a huge sundae. Sometimes the original was the best, and she loaded a sweet vanilla ice cream with a rich fudge, home-made whipped cream, and a ripe cherry.
By the time Franklin finished the whole bowl, he had perked up a little. He had tossed his coat over the edge of the couch, grabbing the bottom fringe of Gloria’s afghan to cover his lap. And, okay, the blanket was long but it wasn’t that long so it just so happened that she needed to slide a little closer to share it with him.
Despite the circumstances that led him to seek her out that night, Gloria realized she wouldn’t have had it any other way.
11
Later that night, when she was having trouble keeping her eyes open, Franklin finally turned and spoke to her.
“Thanks, Gloria.” His raspy voice was even more raw than usual, as if he hadn’t used it in forever. “That was a good movie. We’ll have to watch the second one sometime.”
Swallowing her yawn, stretching her legs in front of her, she said, “You’ve got an open invitation to come over whenever you want.”
His face shadowed over. “Yeah, until next January maybe.”
She winced. So he was still stewing over that.
“Franklin—”
“No.” Running his hand over his face, he shook his head. “Forget I said that. It’s not my business what you decide to do. I just… it’s been a long day. I’m tired. You’re tired. Maybe I should be heading out. Thanks for the ice cream. I… I needed that.”
Franklin wasn’t wrong when he said he was tired. He sounded it. Drained and tired and sad.
And that’s when Gloria—being Gloria—opened her mouth and stuck her foot right inside of it.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” she blurted out.
Franklin had already pushed the afghan off his lap. As he was preparing to stand, he froze mid-squat. “What was that?” He turned to look at her with a curious expression on his face. “What did you just say?”
Ah, crud.
Well, there was no taking it back. It slipped out, she wasn’t supposed to say anything, but she did, and there was no taking it back.
“Franklin, I—”
“You talked to Bailey.”
She couldn’t take it back, and she couldn’t lie, either.
“... Maybe.”
That was all it took. As if what she had said a few seconds ago—plus the truth that it was his sister who had told her—was sinking in, Franklin stood up from his side of the couch. He grabbed his coat, angrily yanked it on, then started to walk toward the door.
Gloria hadn’t expected such a response and she was slow to react. By the time she realized he was actually leaving, Franklin had already opened the front door. It was snowing out again, the pretty white flakes shining against the black sky, with Franklin’s big body silhouetted by the night.
Then he stepped out of the doorway and onto the porch and it hit her that he was really going.
Gloria hopped up from the couch, shoving her afghan to the floor as she hurried after him. She nearly tripped, saved herself in time, and made it to her front door before Franklin had stepped onto the walkway.
“Frank, wait—”
He turned to look at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Goodnight, Gloria.”
Over the last few weeks, though, Gloria had gotten to know this man pretty well. What Bailey told her was just the final piece of the puzzle. The fact that his handsome face was so unreadable made it easy for Gloria to know exactly what he was feeling.
Anger. Betrayal. Humiliation.
And it was all her fault.
Whoops.
She couldn’t let him leave when he was obviously so mad for something that, at the time, she thought wouldn’t be harmful at all. She searched for some way to explain, scrabbled a bit because she was suddenly panicking that whatever they had—friendship, or something more—was crumbling around her, then said the first thing that popped in her head.
“It’s not what you think. I didn’t go down there with a plan to make Bailey tattle on you or something. Christmas just came up and she was surprised I didn’t already know about your mom. That was it. It was innocent, and we didn’t even talk about it for long,” Gloria told him. “Actually, we talked way more about other things.”
“Yeah?” he dared. “Like what?”
“Well, she told me all about that chained off spot in the mountain—”
Franklin glowered.
So, yeah. That probably wasn’t the best way to smooth over the situation. Hey, at least she managed to refrain from mentioning Deputy Walsh’s visit to the garage like Bailey told her to.
Didn’t matter. She’d already said enough.
“And what? About how I’ve never been?”
Bailey definitely hadn’t said that. “What? No—”
“Anything else? Did she tell you about the time at the Hamlet Church when I split my pants when I was kneeling by the pew? Or when one of my school friends brought me to his dad’s bar for my twenty-first birthday and I threw up in front of the whole evening crowd down at Thirsty’s?”
“Franklin, no—”
“Maybe she told you about how I tried to chase after my mom to bring her back and, despite living in Hamlet my whole damn life, I got lost in the woods and Sheriff McKinley had to lead a search party to rescue my sorry behind?”
Gloria thinned her lips, keeping the “Oh, Franklin,” she desperately wanted to utter from escaping. As angry as Franklin was, she didn’t want to upset him more by showing him any pity, even if tears for the teenaged boy he’d been were welling up in her eyes as he snapped.
No wonder he was so mad. Now that she was thinking more like his friend and not the woman who, well, lusted after him, she totally got it. Especially since it had to be painful for him. But he had to understand that she wasn’t doing it to be mean or nosy. She honestly cared about him.
“It wasn’t like that,” she tried to explain. “I didn’t even mean to snoop on you or anything, and Bailey wasn’t gossiping just because she was bored. I just asked her about your whole hating Christmas thing and she told me. Now I get it and I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore, I promise. But,” she added, because as sad as his history was, she couldn’t help but think he might be overreacting just a little, “is it really so bad that she told me?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because you went around my back to ask my little sister about me,” he retorted. If she didn’t know better, it was almost as if Franklin growled his response. “Why didn’t you just come to me? Ask me?”
“I have!” Gloria didn’t mean to raise her voice, but the words burst out of her. “So many times, so many ways… I’ve asked you and you’ve always shut me down!” She took a deep breath—or maybe it was a gasp—and tried anxiously to calm down. Her pulse was pounding, her stomach in knots. Were they really having this argument right now? “Franklin, from the day we first met, all I’ve wanted to do is get to know you. I’m not being nosy. Prying into your life was the last thing I’d ever do… it’s just, I tried to ask.”
“Why?” He spat the word out through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. He looked torn between being angry and hurt, and that made the whole thing ten times worse. “Why did it matter to you so much?”
“Because you matter to me,” she blurted out.
“Oh.” Franklin fell back a few steps, his face closing off at her sudden admission. He lifted his hand, ruffling his hair, knocking off the snow that had landed against the dark strands. “Oh.”
Okay. So that wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting.
For the last couple of weeks, she had done everything short of just coming out with it, admitting to Franklin that might have started out as gratitude for her mechanic neighbor helping her out with her car and quickly blossomed into something more. The longer he acted as if he didn’t notice her affection for him, the more Gloria thought she’d either have to keep it to herself forever or, once and for all, just put it out there.
After Bailey let slip that Franklin, in his own understated, careful way, was into her, too, Gloria figured she might as well go ahead and take the plunge.
From the dazed look on his face, plus his stunned reaction, she was beginning to think that, like Bailey, she should’ve kept her big mouth shut.
Poor Franklin. He couldn’t run away from her confession fast enough. He rocked back on his heels, taking one purposeful step, then the next, eating up the snow-covered ground as he made his strategic retreat.
Gloria felt her heart breaking just watching him go.
“Franklin. Frank… where are you going?”
“Home, Gloria.” Pausing about ten feet away from her, he jerked his chin in her direction. “Go back inside. You’re shivering.”
She was. It was freezing, and she hadn’t stopped to grab a coat when she was chasing after him. “You can come in with me. We can still talk everything over.”
“I’m sorry. I just… I can’t do this right now.”
“But—”
He turned his back on her. “I’ll see you later.”
And then, without even glancing over his shoulder again to see where he left her on her porch, Franklin crossed the space between his cabin and hers before letting himself inside. When the door closed softly behind him, she heard the click carry on the still December night as if she was standing right there.
