Finding Glory. Sara Arden

“Do you want a sweet tea? We can drink it on the porch.”

      “Sure,” he agreed.

      Gina poured him a glass of tea and they stepped back out into the night. She lit a citronella candle, happy to have something to do with her hands.

      He seemed so out of place sitting there in her secondhand rocking chair in his khakis, his polo shirt and his expensive haircut.

      She looked back out into the yard, the symphony song of frogs down by the pond serenading them and the flickering dance of fireflies in the dark space.

      “You remember when we’d climb up on the roof of my mom’s trailer and hide?” he said, finally.

      “Like they couldn’t hear us stomping around up there.”

      “Or didn’t care.” Reed shrugged. “Still, those were the only moments of peace I knew then.”

      “Do remember that trip to the Lake of the Ozarks?” Gina blurted.

      Reed gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That guy who had that houseboat...he was one guy my mother hooked up with who wasn’t a total scumbag. Too bad she was so far gone when she met him. Things might have been different. It’s kind of strange to know that she’s that woman for him, you know?”

      “Like how all the guys besides him were that guy for you? The ones you thought were trash?”

      She watched his face pale.

      “I didn’t mean—”

      He held up his hand. “No, it’s okay. I loved my mother, but that’s what we were.” He shrugged. “She managed to hold it together long enough to reel him in, but then when he saw what was underneath, he didn’t want any part of it. But who in their right mind would?”

      “Still, it was a good trip, wasn’t it?”

      “One of the best times in my life. One of the only good times I can remember.”

      “I know it was for Crystal, too.” She hadn’t meant to bring up her sister. Gina wasn’t ready to talk about her, even though she knew at some point, they’d have to.

      “What about you? Was it a good time for you, too?”

      “I thought it was kind of a trick when we were invited along. It was one of the last good times my mother had, too. Even though I know we were just invited to keep you out of her hair, I’ll always be grateful for that trip.”

      “You’re talking about everyone else but you, Gina. Is that what it’s like for you still? Always thinking of everyone else?”

      His question was so pointed that it was sharp. She didn’t want to think about that; she didn’t want to be any more vulnerable than she already was. But either choice here left her open to his blades. She remembered the last night out on the water.

      “It was one of the best for me, too. That’s why I brought it up.” She exhaled heavily and took a sip of her tea, the sweet tang of it on her tongue making the memory even more vivid.

      “The sweet tea,” he said as soon as she thought it. Like he knew what she was thinking. “You made a jar of it. That last night, when we were lying on the deck listening to the loons.”

      “Trying to see the stars but it was too cloudy.” She remembered thinking that maybe that night was the one. The one where he’d realize she was alive. That she was a woman.

      That he wanted her.

      “Talking about how it would be to stay there forever?”

      She sighed at the memory. “Yeah. We thought that was some kind of huge dream to have a houseboat there. Or even a little cabin. It was our own nirvana, you and me.”

      “Crystal always wanted the big city. She wanted lights and people. She wanted the rush, and all we could talk about was sweet tea and fireflies.”

      “That made her so mad.”

      “So mad she spent the night with one of the local boys. Your mother was so mad at her that we left an hour late because she wasn’t home yet.”

      “I was okay with it. I wanted to stay as long as was humanly possible.” Gina laughed at herself.

      “I thought my world was going to change that night. I thought we were finally through the dark,” he confessed, looking out into the darkness rather than at her.

      She thought that for herself as well, but it hadn’t happened. “I’m sorry it didn’t.”

      “I used to be sorry. But if it had, I don’t know where I’d be. I like who I am now.”

      She exhaled. “Can I be honest?”

      “That’s preferred,” he said drily.

      Walking down memory lane with him was bittersweet, but it wasn’t the past she was worried about. It was their future together. Gina decided to be honest. “I’m glad you like who you are now, but that’s someone I don’t think I know. I’m not sure what to do here.”

      “Me, either.” The air between them hung heavy and strange. He took the plunge first. “So today didn’t go as I’d imagined it.”

      “And how did you imagine it?” She wondered if he’d ever had the same thoughts about her as she did about him, but then she dismissed the idea before it could take root. Before it could make this any more awkward than it already was.

      “I don’t know. But not as it went.” A genuine grin curled at the edge of his mouth.

      It’d be hard to deny him anything with him flashing that grin around. That was a glimpse of the boy she’d known and it was even more endearing on the man he’d become.

      “I wasn’t trying to keep you from her.” That was as close to a peace offering as she could manage.

      “Deep down, I know that.” He didn’t speak for a long moment and the creaking of the rocking chair against the floorboards echoed with all the force of a gunshot. “But you still have to meet me halfway.”

      She was torn between being glad he was willing to do that and angry that he could just decide to buy a house because he felt like it and she was working two jobs and going to school trying to raise his daughter.

      Worse, if she lived in the same house with him, married to him, how would she hide her attraction to him?

      Gina had to remind herself that this wasn’t about her. It was about what was best for Amanda Jane. It had never been hard to do things for her. There had never been any question that she’d take her discharge from the army when her two years was up, knowing that Amanda Jane needed her. She knew that would make it harder to go to medical school. Harder to do everything, but it had been no sacrifice.

      Living under the same roof with Reed Hollingsworth? Torture.

      “I don’t know. We may not have the best life, but I like this house. I love that she can run and play here. I like that I can point to a place in the backyard and say that’s where she smelled her first flower.”

      “But this isn’t yours. Not really. Wouldn’t you rather live somewhere that will one day belong to her? Where she can look at a chair in the corner and say that’s where Gina-bee used to read me stories. This is where my dad taught me to ride a bike. God, Gina. If we do this right, we can give her everything that we never had.”

      All of her protestations died on her tongue. She’d been about to defend herself, the home she’d provided for Amanda Jane, but she realized he wasn’t saying it wasn’t good enough. He was saying they could do even better together. He didn’t say “I can give her...” he’d said we.

      He had this way of speaking that made her imagine picket fences, family picnics and happily-ever-after. She had to keep herself grounded. There was no relationship between them. He just wanted a chance to raise his daughter.

      She