Page 127 of Finally Mine
It was an odd thing for him to say. Like he had something else entirely on his mind. “Yeah. I guess so,” she agreed.
Luke looked…weary. Not at all like a man who was surrounded by family and friends. A man home for good with the people he loved the most. He looked tortured. Lola rumbled into the room and leaned heavily against Luke’s leg. He leaned down to give her a good scruff behind the ears. “Pretty girl,” he murmured.
Lola sneezed in appreciation.
“Listen, Gloria,” Luke said, straightening up to his full height. “Can I give you some advice?”
He was drunk, she realized. Or buzzed enough to slur a little.
She nodded wondering what would make Luke Garrison drink to excess when he was living what to so many others was only a dream.
“Don’t make the same mistake twice. What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and then expecting a different result? Sooner or later, everyone has to face facts. A mistake is a mistake. No matter how good everyone else tries to tell you it is.”
There was a burst of laughter from the kitchen, and Luke’s expression darkened. His exit was as abrupt as his entrance.
“What the hell was that?” Gloria murmured to herself.
* * *
Gloria doubtedanyone else noticed it. But Luke and Harper sat at opposite ends of the table. Harper spent more time pushing the food she’d worked so hard on around her plate than eating it. Gloria pushed it out of her mind and focused on the rest of the festive guests. Laughing when Aldo spoon-fed her stuffing and when Mrs. Moretta and Sophie argued about organic vegetables. James and Ty made a show of going back to the kitchen for secondsandthirds.
The food was good. The company—most of it, at least—was even better. Aldo squeezed her leg under the table. The spark in his eyes told her he had plans for dessert later. She surprised them both by leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
Gloria gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m feeling thankful for you.”
As the action died down around the table, Joni cleared her throat. “I just wanted to thank Harper and Luke for inviting me today. It’s been a hard few years, and it means so much that you still treat me like family. It’s good to be reminded of what’s really important in life, and you all have done that for me. So thank you for that. And Happy Thanksgiving!” She raised her wine glass.
Everyone raised their wine glasses. “To family,” Charlie said, winking at Harper.
“To family,” everyone echoed.
Everyone except Luke, who stared morosely into his empty glass. Gloria nudged Aldo and nodded in Luke’s direction. “What’s going on with Luke?” she asked in his ear.
Aldo watched his friend for a beat, shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Maybe I should talk to Harper?” Gloria ventured.
But Aldo was closing his hand over hers. “Come with me.”
He pulled her away from the table, telling everyone they were going to browse the desserts, and proceeded to drag her straight out the back door.
Once on the porch, he took his time backing her against the wall. Gloria suddenly couldn’t remember what they were talking about. “What’s this for?” she asked, when he kissed her sweetly.
“To soften the blow when I tell you that you’re not responsible for the mood of the room.”
“What are you talking about? I just have a bad feeling about what’s going on between them.”
“Glo, listen to me.” He put his hands on her shoulders, squeezed gently. “Whatever’s going on, it’s not your job to fix it or make it better. It’s not your job to make everybody happy.”
“That’s not what… Well, hell.”That’s exactly what she’d been doing. What she always did.
“I get it,” Aldo pressed on. “You take responsibility for how other people feel because those feelings were taken out on you again and again. But you aren’t responsible for other people’s happiness. You’re in charge of your own, and you’re doing a damn good job with it. But you can’t go in that house and make Harper and Luke happy.”
“But there’s something clearly going on with them,” she argued. Aldo was taking apart the way she lived her life, the way she interacted with everyone she met. She thought back, recalling her parents’ fights. Remembering how she’d draw them special pictures of their family, holding hands and smiling like she wanted them to. If she could just get better grades or score that goal in soccer…they’d be happy. They’d be proud. If she could just get dinner on the table faster or fold the laundry the way he liked it, he’d be happy.
“Honey.” Aldo cupped her face. “None of it’s your fault. And it’s not your job to fix it.”
