The Soldier's Valentine. Pamela Tracy
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however, didn’t support her words. “When do you see the lawyer about the new custody arrangements?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I can come with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to always do everything by yourself. You have friends.” Patsy got in her car, rolled down her window and added, “I certainly don’t hesitate to make you do things with me, even if you’d rather do anything else. Don’t forget you’re both attending and helping with the Mother/Son Valentine’s Day dance Saturday after this one.”
“No kidding,” Leann said. “Both my boys have offered their opinions about my presence. Aaron thinks it’s cool, but Tim assures me no one will be attending. No one. He insists the school will be empty.”
“Being a sixth-grader’s mom is not for wimps,” Patsy cautioned. “Neither is being a cop. I hear there’s a good-looking newcomer in town and that twice you’ve threatened to arrest him.”
“What?”
“I gave you every opportunity to bring it up,” Patsy said. “You could have mentioned Gary Guzman when we were setting up the art project or just now as we’re fixing to leave, but no, not a word. I have to bring it up. What kind of best friend are you?”
“The kind that doesn’t bring up unimportant things. The kind who doesn’t go around arresting good-looking newcomers.”
“Ah, so you admit he’s good-looking.” Patsy emphasized the word. “Leann, I’ve seen him walking his dog. The man is gorgeous.”
“Dogs,” Leann corrected. “Now he has dogs. As in more than one. And, he’s unemployed and ex-military. I’ve already been a military wife. Rewarding, but she wanted a personal challenge for herself. Nope, nope, not the man for me. I could never trust him. I can’t believe you want me to go all doe-eyed over someone I’d never be able to trust.”
“Actually, yes, I do. You need a life, especially now that Ryan’s moving back.” Patsy’s voice practically oozed as she tried to add humor to what Leann considered the worst news ever. “Gary is Oscar’s brother, which means he’s nothing like your ex, and I’m sure he’s a good guy. Go have some fun. At the very least, Gary could remind Ryan what a mistake he made letting you go.”
Leann shook her head. Patsy watched way too many romance movies and truly believed in heroes. Leann knew better. What she didn’t share with Patsy was that the gorgeous—and yes he was—Gary Guzman, however, wasn’t just unemployed. He was also living on his aunt’s charity and, by his own account, was not at a place he could take care of others.
“Ahem!” Patsy was louder this time. “You’re off in la-la land, definitely not like you.”
“Sorry,” Leann said. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Any of it have to do with Geraldo Guzman?”
“Geraldo?”
“That is his first name. You knew that, right?”
“No.” Since the first meeting, she’d been one step behind. First, not getting his name at all and now not having the whole name.
“It’s a manly name.”
Leann almost gagged. One thing was for sure, Patsy wasn’t subtle. She was trying to get a rise out of Leann, but it wasn’t going to happen. “I... Oh, never mind. I need to get back to work.” Then, she rolled up her window and drove away, making sure not to look in the rearview mirror, where she’d see Patsy either bent over laughing or, worse, with a contemplative look on her face as she tried to figure out ways to get Leann and Gary together.
Not happening.
Worst timing ever.
Patsy had always dragged Leann into activities she’d never have ventured into on her own. And, Patsy had what looked like a perfect life. Her two children, a boy and girl, had been blessed with the willing-to-do-homework gene. Leann’s two boys hadn’t. Tim on a good day remembered he had homework but didn’t do it. Aaron, a fourth-grader, couldn’t even spell homework, so he claimed.
She didn’t pressure her boys. She expected them to do their best, worked with them when they struggled, and pushed only when she had to. They knew they were loved.
Something that, when she was their age, she’d not experienced. And, quite honestly, she’d not experienced it as an adult either. She doubted she ever would.
* * *
A NOISE REVERBERATED, LOUDLY. Gary’s eyes snapped open; sleep interrupted. He rolled and in one fluid motion crouched facing the door. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the light so he could note windows with their blinds down but allowing in sunshine—too bright to signal morning—that accentuated a light burgundy door with a glass ornate knob. A white robe advertising Bianca’s Bed-and-Breakfast hung on a hook.
It took a few deep breaths before his heartbeat slowed and the adrenaline rush ebbed. He could accept that he was in Sarasota Falls, in a bedroom.
Downstairs came voices, his aunt greeting new guests and the chaos new guests carried with them; simultaneously, Wilma began to bark.
It was a safe kind of chaos, which, unfortunately, had induced Gary to head upstairs a few hours ago to check his cell phone and make a few calls. He remembered lying down, thinking to be lazy as he checked his phone but falling asleep for no reason...
The way his heart was beating, he knew he’d not fall back to sleep, not that he wanted to, and he needed to get Wilma quieted before the neighbors called the police again.
Hmm, would Leann be the responder?
No, his luck wouldn’t work that way. This time he’d get his brother. Come to think of it, he didn’t want to tell either of them that he’d been napping away the late afternoon with nothing to do and no one to notice.
Quickly, Gary changed out of his jeans and into shorts, T-shirt and his jogging shoes.
His workout routine had the additional perk of making his aunt Bianca laugh. Something about his having a Bianca’s Bed-and-Breakfast bath towel spread on the backyard grass, jumping over it and doing squats, tickled her funny bone. Then, Wilma gave him grief when he’d added her to the jogging regimen. Their time leash jogging had been a combination of his forcefully dragging her along or giving up and letting the dog sniff and meander whenever she wanted.
It meant Gary got half a workout.
Gary did, however, understand and appreciate the solid offensive stance Wilma assumed during cat reconnaissance.
Today, though, newcomer Goober proved to be a willing participant and eagerly took to the harness.
When Gary started his run, Goober trotted alongside in perfect sync. Surprise, surprise, Wilma followed Goober’s example. Maybe tomorrow he’d ditch Wilma, just take Goober, and see if he could do a four-minute mile, weighed down by a sixty-pound backpack and with a collie as his formation.
Something about the evening felt right, so instead of heading to the park and jogging the trail, Gary headed through some residential areas where cars were turning into driveways and individuals or families were exiting: parents who just finished work or parents who’d finished work, picked up kids and finally arrived home.
He and his siblings had walked back and forth to school, no need for keys as four houses in a row, on their street, had belonged to relatives. There’d always been an aunt with a cookie or an uncle wanting Gary to help rake the leaves. Plus, there was a key under a rock in the backyard. Probably still there.
The neighborhood changed, the houses got smaller and the yards looked more lived in. Gary’s jog turned into a slow trot as his conversation with Aunt Bianca reared its head and memories materialized. The home he’d grown up in had been the last on the block, the old farm of some long-ago immigrant, and it had been added to by so many