Leave it to Gladys to find the needle in the haystack.
“And second of all?”
“You’re a good man, and I couldn’t love you more if you were my own son.”
Wrapping her hands with his, Ian said, “Don’t make me start into another rendition of ‘you saved my sorry hide’ tale.”
“Tale? Hmpf. It’s one hundred percent true. Why would I mind hearing it again?” Their companionable laughter blended, producing a warm smile on his aunt’s face. A smile that quickly diminished as she withdrew her hands.
“You aren’t all down in the mouth because some wiseacre burger pusher gave you a hard time...”
“Well, silly me,” he kidded, “thinking I could fool you.”
“’Bout time you wised up. For the last time, out with it.”
What did he have to lose?
“I saw Maleah tonight.”
“Oh my. Oh wow. Holy smokes.” Gladys sipped her coffee. “Good grief,” she said, wincing. “Who taught that father of yours how to brew a pot?”
“Ruth.”
“Still can’t bring yourself to call her Mom, can you.”
Ian shook his head. She hadn’t earned the title.
“So did Maleah see you, too.”
“She was a little busy, hanging all over her cover-model date.”
The left brow rose again.
“Kent O’Malley. Baltimore Magazine’s Bachelor of the Year?”
“Oh yeah.” Nodding, she said, “Oh my. Oh wow. Holy smokes.” Then she slapped the table, making Ian jump. “No way you can convince me she’s serious about that blowhard.”
“Wasn’t aware you and Kent were acquainted.”
“Don’t need a personal introduction to know he’s all shine, no substance. Not Maleah’s type at all.”
A lifetime ago, he’d been her type. “A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since that day in court. “I’ve changed. She has, too.”
“Not that much. I’ll bet my diamond tiara it was a work-related date and nothing more. Now tell me everything.”
“She seemed...she looked...” Ian didn’t know how to describe how she looked as she stood, entangled in O’Malley’s arms, comparing the once clean-cut boy he’d been to the scarred, tattooed ex-con he’d become. “I think it surprised her, seeing how much I’ve changed. Scared her a little, too, I think.”
“That’s natural. Man doesn’t spend ten years doing hard time without it taking a toll.” Unable to come up with a suitable response to that, Ian only nodded.
Gladys got up, put her mug in the sink, then emptied what was left of the coffee into the drain. “Promise me you’ll teach that brother of mine how to use a coffeemaker, will ya? Grounds are too expensive these days.”
She stood behind him and gently tugged his foot-long ponytail. “Oh what I wouldn’t give for a pair of scissors right now...”
“If I had a dollar for every time you told me you love my hair, I could buy that newfangled icemaker I’ve been drooling over.”
This time, she wasn’t so gentle when she jerked the ponytail. “Small talk is not your forte, Ian Sylvestry. You can try to distract me with ice makers and coffeemakers and—”
“You’re the one who took a side trip, talking about coffee.”
“You’ve got me there, too.” She kissed the top of his head. “Feel better now?”
He wouldn’t feel better until he could blot Maleah’s image from his memory.
“My advice?” she said, walking toward the hall.
Ian braced himself.
“Call her. Put all your cards on the table. Trust me, she’s not involved with Mr. Owns-the-East-Coast.”
He wouldn’t reach out, not even if O’Malley told him directly that he had no interest in Maleah. He’d already put her through enough. What if she’d been with him that day at the fast food place? No way he could live with seeing her humiliated because of her association with him.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you, now?”
“You think you hurt her, hurt her so much that she can’t forgive you for something you did when you were a stupid, naïve, impressionable boy. But let me remind you that Maleah has a big loving heart.”
It was the first nice thing she’d said about Maleah since he got out.
“She loved you, for a while anyway, and that tells me she’s not all bad.” Gladys rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “Because in those days, you weren’t easy to love.”
One of a hundred reasons he wouldn’t call her.
“Promise me you’ll think about it,” Gladys said from the hallway. He took a moment, just long enough to let her think he’d seriously consider making that call. “G’night, Gladys. Sleep tight...”
“...and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Her all-knowing expression told him she believed he’d take her well-meaning advice.
But he wouldn’t. Ever.
* * *
A WEEK AGO, to the day, her brother had found the silver-framed photo of Ian and unearthed every memory she’d carefully and deliberately buried.
The photo itself had been taken with her metallic pink pocket camera, his second birthday gift to her that year. “Sorry it’s such a mess,” he’d said as she’d removed wrinkly, balloon-festooned paper, “I’m all thumbs.” After showing her how to use it, Maleah posed him in front of the Blue Poison-Dart Frog enclosure at the Tropical Rain Forest exhibit. (Tickets to the National Aquarium had been his first birthday gift to her.) Some girls claimed their sixteenth birthdays were the best, but for Maleah, the magic number would always be seventeen...
...because at the end of that remarkable day, Ian surprised her with a third present: a thin silver band that held what he’d called the smallest diamond on Planet Earth. “Before you put it on, you should know this isn’t one of those goofy friendship rings your girlfriends are showing off.” They needed to graduate from college, find stable employment, and save their pennies for a safe place to live, he’d recited in an oh-so-grown-up voice. Until then, the ring symbolized the promise between them: Someday, they’d become husband and wife.
Maleah eased the picture from its new hiding place. I dare you to find it at the bottom of my underwear
