Page 105 of Finally Mine
“Who says I’m not fine?” he challenged.
“Those big-ass circles under your eyes,” she noted.
Where everyone else cautiously tip-toed, Doc Dreamy stomped in and pointed right at the damn elephant in the room.
“Look,” she said. “I’d hate to see you screw up my very fine life-saving work by ignoring the most important part of recovery. Think about it, talk it out, do the damn work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aldo shot back.
She jerked a thumb in the direction of the water. “I come here for mental health breaks. Otherwise I’d crack under the pressure. Find your blue water, lieutenant, and keep working.”
He was embarrassed, annoyed to know that he hadn’t been hiding his struggle as well as he thought he’d been. “Will do, Doc. Will do.”
“Good. I gotta go. I’ve got a rum punch with an umbrella headed my way.”
“Enjoy, Doc. And thanks for everything.”
She threw him a salute and clicked off.
Gloria was singing in the kitchen, giving him his space while she ran interference on his life.
The laptop lit up again, signaling another video call.
“Can you get that?” his interfering girlfriend called sweetly.
“We need to have a talk about boundaries, Gloria.”
“After you answer the call,” she said flippantly.
Stephanie Oluo’s face popped up. “LT!” she crowed.
“Oluo! What the hell are you doing calling my girlfriend? Are you trying to steal her away?”
Steph laughed. “Gloria is a lovely woman, but I’ve got my hands full.” She tugged another woman on screen. “Meet Mrs. Oluo.” They held up matching wedding bands.
“No shit? Congratulations!” It did his heart good to see his friend, his fellow wounded compatriot, so happy.
“Life’s too short not to go for it, man,” Steph said, watching as her wife walked off screen. “She’s pregnant. Four weeks. We’re keeping it quiet for a while, but I wanted you to know you’re going to be an uncle.”
“Shit, Steph. That’s amazing.”
“Not too shabby for lying in the dirt bleeding a few months ago, eh?”
“Not at all,” Aldo agreed.
“So how are you? You sleeping yet?”
Of course she’d know. She’d been there, lived it. Survived it.
He glanced toward the kitchen where Gloria was disentangling Ivan from a dish towel he’d tried to steal. “Not great,” he admitted.
“Been there.”
“You sleeping?” he asked.
She flashed that white-toothed, shit-eating grin through the screen. “Like a baby. Now.”
Aldo sighed. She was going to make him ask. “How’d you do it?”
