There was so much concern in Gloria’s tone, it immediately triggered Bryn’s urge to cry.
“Did something happen? I didn’t want to tell you and get you all nervous, but Francine’s granddaughter came over and got her phone on my TV. Did you know they could do that? These kids, they know how to do everything. Well, I made popcorn in the pot, you know how I like to make it fresh. I don’t trust those strange little bags. What’s in them? I don’t know. And oh honey, we cheered so loud for you when you won.”
The sweeter Gloria was, the more Bryn wanted to curl up in the fetal position and sob. She didn’t know how to deflect without lying, but she didn’t want to worry Gloria. Fortunately, Gloria was more than capable of carrying on a two-way conversation on her own.
“And Francine, she knows about these things because her grandson’s been through three girlfriends this year. Can you believe it? She looked at me and said, ‘Gloria, that girl’s been hurt by some fool boy who couldn’t handle her shining so bright. Look at her, she’s so beautiful and winning the biggest prize.’” She patted her arm. “And I said, you know, some people have egos more fragile than my good china.”
“G, you know I date women,” she said with a chuckle because Gloria always had a way of raising her spirits.
“I know, I know. Men, women, it’s all the same in the dark. We’re all just people, aren’t we?” She shot her a grin. “That Francine, she’s not as hip with the modern stuff as I am. I say if it was a choice, who would choose men? My Abraham, God knows I loved him, but in thirty-five years he never once took out the garbage without being reminded. I used to say, Abe, do you have to remind me to put dinner on the table? No? Why do I have to tell you about the damn garbage going out on Wednesdays? Well, anyway, I’ve never had to remind Francine about Tuesday night canasta, have I?” She laughed to herself. “Tell your old friend Gloria, honey, what’s wrong?”
“Francine was right about the heartbreak, but wrong about everything else,” Bryn admitted.
Without going into specifics about the highest chemistry sex she’d ever had, Bryn told Gloria everything. Everything she knew about Vivian and everything that had happened between them.
For the first time since she’d known her, Gloria listened without saying a word. She listened for the half hour it took to get to her condo, and another hour in the car where they stayed, even when the rain suddenly stopped.
Bryn had started and stopped crying twice. She accepted the tissue Gloria had magically produced from the sleeve of her cardigan. “How could I have fallen so hard by myself? I feel so stupid.”
Gloria turned in her seat as much as her mobility allowed. “Listen, I’m not saying I’m a love expert here, but you didn’t fall by yourself, honey, and I don’t care what Vivian said to the contrary.”
Bryn blew her nose.
“I’ve lived a long time. And you know what Marta always says in her nice Cuban Spanish. The devil knows more from being old than from being a devil.”
“I don’t think that’s?—”
“That Vivian is absolutely stunning. If you look up movie star in the dictionary, that’s the picture you’d expect to find.”
“Way to rub it in, G.” She relaxed against the headrest, wishing she was home and could take a nap.
“All those people in that room, honey, and that woman was only looking at you.” Gloria peered over her glasses, her go-to move when she wanted Bryn to really listen. “I don’t think you fell so hard by yourself. She didn’t let go of your hand when she said all those beautiful words, honey. And when she looked at you...” Gloria shivered. “My God, did she look at you.”
Eyes sore and jaw aching, Bryn blinked.
“I’m telling you, there could have been a gorilla in a tutu spinning around the stage and she wouldn’t have noticed it. Maybe she doesn’t know what to do with it, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s only one reason to look at another person like that.” Gloria smiled. “It’s the way my Abraham looked at me the morning he asked me to marry him. And it’s how I looked at him every day after I said ‘I do.’”
The goosebumps rushing up Bryn’s arms believed Gloria when her brain couldn’t.
“Maybe it was infatuation or lust or… I don’t know. But it can’t be love, G. Not for her. Love isn’t supposed to feel this bad.” She pressed her palm to her bruised chest.
Gloria shook her head. “Oh, honey. If it doesn’t break you apart and build you anew, it’s not love.”
She took a deep breath and watched Bryn for a long time before she continued. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone. A month before my wedding, I got cold feet like you wouldn’t believe. Oh, everyone expects the man to get cold feet, but you know they don’t have a monopoly on being scared you’re making the wrong choice and you’re gonna be stuck with a dud for the rest of your life.”
Bryn smiled.
“Yeah, yeah. I know divorce is an option, but no one wants to go through that either. And anyway, in those days, it was a whole to-do. He came to my parents’ house, and we sat on the couch because there was no alone time until we were married. My mother was within earshot in the kitchen. No funny business. And I told him that I wasn’t sure getting married was a good idea. I said, we’re too different, Abe. He was an introvert with two left feet and an Episcopalian. I was a Lutheran then,” she said, like Bryn should understand that those were wildly different belief systems. “In truth, I was just terrified. Not because marriage was bad, but because it was different. Embarrassing now, really.”
Gloria reached over and took Bryn’s hand in both of hers.
“You know what that beautiful man did? He didn’t give up. Didn’t walk away. He kept showing up. Every day for two weeks with a different flower from his sister’s garden until I believed he wasn’t going anywhere.” She squeezed Bryn’s hand. “Sometimes, honey, love means fighting for someone even when they’re too scared to fight for themselves. It’s knowing that what you’ve got is worth being scared about.”
Bryn sat in the car long after Gloria had gone inside. The shift in her chest was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t the ache that had been living there for days, but something warmer. Something that felt like hope. Like showing up scared was better than not showing up at all.
ChapterThirty-Two
Prone on a massagetable in her fitness room, Vivian tried very hard to relax. She inhaled the essential-oil-doused steam. Tried to visualize a creek moving slowly through a quiet forest while the ambient sounds played. Tried to enjoy the shiatsu that wasn’t quite getting to any of the pain in her body.
