Write to Me (3 page)

He wasn’t ready to lose her yet.

A quavering cry tore him out of his dilemma. “Howard? Howard, where are you?”

He and Gloria both looked around for the source of the voice. An elderly woman in a pink tracksuit stood beside an empty bench, her mouth flaccid with fear. “Howard!”

There was a playground in the park. Maybe Howard had wandered away from his grandma when her back was turned. Before Bryan could glance Gloria’s way, she was already walking toward the older woman. “Do you need help?”

The white-haired woman gaped at them, her eyes wide and glassy. She’d had lipstick on, but it had been chewed off and only a trace was left. “I can’t find Howard. He’s gone.”

She was trembling. A tiny thing, she looked as fragile as a bird. Gloria took her gently by the arm. “Why don’t you sit?”

The woman perched on the bench as obediently as a child. She blinked at them helplessly. “I know I shouldn’t have left him, but it was only for a minute. I had to use the ladies’ room. I told him to wait for me right here. He promised he would. He
promised
.” She began to cry quietly, tears slipping down her wrinkled cheeks.

Gloria glanced at Bryan. “Maybe we should call the police?”

“No!” The woman cried. “Not the police, please. Howard hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m sure he didn’t mean to wander off.”

“He won’t get in trouble,” Gloria stroked the woman’s arm soothingly. “But the police can help us find him.”

“Let me take a quick look around,” Bryan said. “What was Howard wearing?”

“Oh, let me think, let me think.” The woman brought her hands up to her cheeks. “He has on a short sleeved checked shirt. Blue checks. And white sneakers. And, oh, a brown cap.”

Bryan nodded. “I’ll circle the path, look around. Take a quick look over at the playground.”

Puzzlement creased the tracksuit lady’s forehead and brought a stop to her tears. “Why would you look there? Howard wouldn’t go to the playground.”

“He might have seen the other children playing down there and wanted to join them,” Bryan answered.

“Howard’s not a child,” the lady said. “He’s my husband.”

Gloria and Bryan exchanged looks. “Your husband?”

“We come to the park every day. I always stay close to him, he gets so forgetful, you see. But today I had to use the ladies’ room. I was only gone for a few minutes—”

To forestall another bout of tears, Bryan said, “I’ll take a look around. We’ll find him, don’t worry.”

He took a quick turn of the park, scanning the crowd as he walked.
Let’s see, blue checked shirt, brown cap…

He spotted an old fellow who fit the description arguing with an ice cream vendor, not the same one Bryan had purchased treats from earlier. He hot-footed it over there.

The old guy looked agitated while the ice cream man just shook his head, his mouth turned down in a frown. “No, it’s not free. It’s for sale. For money. You got some money?”

Bryan edged up to the older man. “Howard?”

The old man eyed him suspiciously.

“You know this guy?” the vendor asked. “He wants ice cream. I’m trying to tell him he’s got to pay. He doesn’t get it.”

Bryan spoke quietly to the gray haired old man. “Howard, your wife’s looking for you.”

Howard blinked as understanding sparked in his faded blue eyes. “Letty?”

“Yes. Letty. She’s looking for you. She’s worried.” He gently took the man’s arm. “Let’s get back to her.”

Howard didn’t budge. His jaw clenched in stubbornness. “I want ice cream.”

Bryan rooted in his back pocket for his wallet. “Ice cream. Sure.” He handed the vendor two dollars and received an ice cream pop, which he handed to Howard. “Here you are.”

Howard took it and frowned. “Letty likes ice cream, too.”

Bryan bit back a groan of exasperation. “Of course she does.” Another two dollars, and then he and Howard headed back to where the women waited. Howard grinned as he approached them, an ice cream pop in each fist.

Letty hopped off the bench as soon as she spotted her husband. “Oh, thank goodness! Where did you go? Didn’t I tell you to stay right here and wait for me?”

“I brought you some ice cream, Letty,” he answered, puffing his chest in pride.

“Oh, Howard.” The woman shook her head, then turned to Bryan. “Thank you so much. Both of you,” she added, glancing at Gloria.

“I’m glad it all worked out.” Gloria took Bryan’s arm as he said goodbye to Howard. The man sat on the bench, too intent on his ice cream treat to respond.

“That was a lovely thing you did,” Gloria told him as they continued their stroll. “You never thought you’d end up a hero today, did you?”

“A hero?” Bryan laughed. “We’re just lucky Howard is so fond of ice cream.”

Gloria smiled and squeezed his arm. He rarely walked arm in arm with a woman and found he enjoyed the feeling it gave him, one of closeness and even a bit of protectiveness.

“They’re a sweet old couple, aren’t they? I love to see people like that, who’ve been married so long and are still so devoted to each other. She was so worried about him.”

Bryan frowned. “It must be hard for her, dealing with him wandering off that way.”

“He may have forgotten not to wander off, but he didn’t forget how much he loves her. Did you see how proud he was when he gave her that ice cream?”

Ice cream I paid for.
Bryan kept that unromantic thought to himself as he took in Gloria’s wistful expression. She saw the whole world sentimentally through those rose-colored glasses of hers. Was she thinking of her husband Emilio, remembering their life together, as devoted to each other as Howard and Letty?

He could tell her some things about long married couples. Take his parents, for example, coming up on their fortieth anniversary. He could think of any number of words to describe their relationship, but
devotion
would not be one of them. Nor would love or respect. Contempt, disdain, and bitterness were more appropriate.

Even as child, he was aware of the cold war between his parents. When he grew older, he wondered why they ever married in the first place and why they didn’t divorce. Long frigid silences would be punctuated by accusations and slammed doors. As a boy, Bryan was alternately ignored by his parents or overindulged as his mother and father each tried to win him to their side—mostly as a way to hurt each other. A confusing way to live. And not one that encouraged a positive view of marriage or romance.

The bing of a cell phone brought him back to the present. He checked his phone, but no one was trying to reach him. Gloria pulled her phone from her purse. “It’s mine. Excuse me a moment. It’s my daughter.”

She frowned at her smartphone, then tapped out an answering text. “I’m sorry. I have to head over to the salon. One of the stylists called in sick, and the schedule’s packed today. They need me.”

“Oh.” His mood deflated. He’d hoped to spend more time with her. “Let me walk you to your car.”

“It’s parked near the bookstore.”

It didn’t take long for them to get back. As they stopped by her Toyota, Gloria said, “I enjoyed our walk. We had quite a little adventure, didn’t we?”

“We did. I enjoyed meeting you, Gloria.”

Her phone rang. She sighed as she fished it from her purse. “It’s my daughter Desiree again.”

“So soon?”

“The salon’s probably a madhouse. You have no idea how angry women can get when they think their hair appointment might be cancelled.” She was already opening her driver’s side door as she put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Desi? Yes, yes. I’m on my way. Yes. See you soon. Bye.”

She tossed purse and phone onto the passenger’s seat and turned to him. “Got to go.” She hesitated for a moment, as though she wanted to say more. “Goodbye, Bryan.”

“Don’t say goodbye,” he answered. “We’ll meet again in the poetry section.”

They
would
meet again. As he watched her drive off, he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. He still had the letter.

Chapter Three

“What’s had you in such a good mood all day?” Desi paused in sweeping the floor to question her mother. She was cleaning up to close the salon as Gloria went over the day’s receipts.

Gloria glanced up from her paperwork. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since you came in. You’ve been smiling, humming, practically floating around the place.” Desi leaned on the broom and gave her mother the once over. “What’s up?”

Gloria’s thoughts once again circled to the handsome college professor who loved poetry, but she played it cool.
“What, it’s that unusual for me to be in a good mood?”

“You know what I mean.”

She stepped out from behind the front desk and approached her daughter. “Why’d you have to cut your hair?” She finger combed Desi’s short locks, streaked with gold and caramel. “It’s so beautiful when it’s long. Remember when I used to brush it for you and you’d want me to braid it or put it up?”

Desi ducked away from the impromptu styling. “I’m not ten years old anymore,
Mami
.”

Gloria frowned. “Don’t remind me.” Desi had been a child when her father died, and for a long time, she and Gloria had only each other. But Desiree was a woman now, in love with and engaged to another young woman. Gloria knew she had to let her daughter go, but it wasn’t easy.

Desi shifted and tittered uncomfortably. “Why are you staring at me?”

“’Cause you’re so beautiful. And ’cause I can’t get over how much you look like your father.”

Desi flushed and finished sweeping stray bits of hair into a dustpan. “I miss him. Even after all this time. It’s weird.”

“Not weird,
m’ija
. You’ll be getting married soon. It’s no wonder you’re thinking of him.”

“Yeah. He won’t be there to walk me down the aisle. But I have you.”

“You know it.” Gloria came in for a hug, closing the gap between them. “I miss him, too,” she murmured as they embraced.

“Ma. Why didn’t you ever get married again?” Desi asked as they pulled apart.

Gloria’s face grew warm. She wanted to look away, but her daughter’s intense gaze wouldn’t let her. “No one could ever measure up to your father.”

“I know you loved him. But weren’t you lonely?”

“Sometimes. But I had you.”

Desi gave her a
let’s get real
look. “Sure. But that’s not the same as having a romantic partner. A life partner.” She waited a moment. “I know there were men in your life.”

“True.” Though she was a widow, Gloria hadn’t been celibate the last twelve years. She’d dated from time to time, had a few relationships. “Some of them were very nice men. But I wasn’t in love with any of them. And I wasn’t about to get married because I was afraid of being lonely.”

Desi’s expression was clouded by guilt. “Was it because of me? Maybe you were worried about disrupting my life, bringing a new man into it.”

“No, it wasn’t that, I promise. Listen, I believe each of us has a soul mate in our lives. You have Ashlynn. I had your father. I had the best. I could never love another man the way I loved him. So why settle for less?”

“Don’t give up. There might be someone out there for you. Someone you could love. Maybe not the way you loved Papa. In a different way, but just as strong.” Her daughter’s lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “Look what happened to Blaise and Uncle Memo.”

Blaise was Ashlynn’s mother, who’d also been a single mom. Through a series of events that Gloria still wasn’t clear on, Blaise had recently hooked up with Gloria’s brother Guillermo. They were now a couple.

Gloria gave her daughter a narrow look. “I don’t think things will work out for me that neatly.”

“You never know.”

Time for a change of subject. “What are you doing after this? Going straight home?”

Desi grabbed her purse from her workstation. “Meeting Ash at Bananas Foster for a drink. She’s working late tonight, too.” Ashlynn was a librarian at the local college. Gloria wondered if she knew of Bryan Dunn. Of course, she would. A college professor would surely be a frequent library visitor. And Professor Sexy wouldn’t fly under any woman’s radar.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Desi offered.

It was sweet of her to ask, but Gloria wasn’t about to horn in on the younger women’s date. “No thanks. You girls have fun.”

Gloria picked up her keys and her purse and was just about to walk her daughter out when someone tapped on the glass door. Both women started. Gloria gasped. Bryan stood on the step outside.

“We’re closed,” Desi said loudly, pointing to the clock on the wall behind the front desk.

“Let him in,” Gloria told her. “I know him.”

Desi gaped at her, then unlocked the door. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Bryan glanced from Desi to Gloria. “I meant to come earlier.”

“Come in, Bryan. This is my daughter, Desiree. Desi, this is Professor Dunn. He teaches…poetry at the college.”

He nodded at Desi. “English Literature and World Lit. How do you do?”

“Hello.” She gave her mother a wide-eyed stare as she stepped back and allowed Bryan into the salon. Her gaze travelled up and down his tall form. Behind Bryan’s back, she gave her mother a nod of approval and a thumb’s up.
He’s hot,
she
mouthed.

Gloria tried to tamp down the excitement skittering up her spine but couldn’t control the way her pulse spiked as Bryan neared. She was afraid she’d have slipped his mind, but he hadn’t forgotten her. Just as she couldn’t forget him. “This is unexpected.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, the same jacket he wore earlier, and pulled out the letter. “I’m here because of this.”

Gloria’s glance bounced from her daughter back to Bryan.

“I still need your help.” His expression was so sincere, his tone so earnest. Did he really need her?

“I don’t know what I can do—”

“Help me write a letter to Courtney.”

His statement punctured her hopes, letting the air out of them. He wanted her to help him win back his lover. She wanted to smack herself for feeling disappointed.

Thinking about him all day had buoyed her mood. She’d told herself it was a chance meeting, a mild flirtation with a handsome stranger. Nothing would come of it. Had she been lying to herself, secretly hoping for more?