Page 65 of Finally Mine
“Ugh. I’m so nervous,” Harper said, patting a hand to her chest. “Is it normal to be nervous?”
“It’s not nerves. It’s excitement.” It was all a matter of perspective.
A guy weaved his way through the crowd to Aldo, offering his hand and a friendly “thanks for your service.”
Aldo shook hands and nodded politely. He’d been inundated with thanks and well wishes since rolling up to the start line. It was overwhelming and embarrassing.
He’d never minded being the center of attention before. But now that it was for missing a fucking limb, he wasn’t much of a fan. Today that would change. Hopefully. Today was the first step in proving that he was still a damn man, and if he could prove that to himself, step two might be getting Gloria to forgive his dumb ass. She’d stood up for herself, to him. He’d never in his life set out to be that guy. Amputation or not, he needed to find the strength to fight the slide into asshole territory.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem, sung by Peggy Anne Marsico.”
Aldo climbed off the bike and stood at attention in a military salute.
He’d pledged life and literal limb for his country. And right now, surrounded by an ocean of his neighbors in red, white, and blue, he felt a shaky kind of pride. He’d made the promise, and yes, he hadn’t really fully grasped what that sacrifice would feel like, what the reality of it would be. But he’d made the promise, and he’d lived up to it. That was something to be proud of.
It felt damn good to have an inch or two of his soul make room for something good and bright.
The race kicked off in style with Ty in his deputy uniform firing a blank into the air.
Aldo felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and basked in it. And then remembered it was his hands and not his feet that he had to move. Slowly, he and Harper lumbered off the starting line. The crowd thinned quickly with the sprinters—his former place of glory—taking off like greyhounds on the chase.
Aldo cursed his pedals and tried to keep pace with Harper who still looked a little green around the gills.
“Just relax into it,” he coached her. “We’re just out here going for a nice quiet jog-slash-pedal in front of the entire town.”
She snorted, but her feet picked up the pace a bit, a look of determination on her pretty face.
“Good job. Way to not suck,” he told her.
“Shut up, man-beast.”
* * *
“Oh my God.I’m dying. Aldo, I’m dying,” Harper gasped.
“If you couldn’t talk, I’d be concerned.”
“You’re not even out of breath,” she muttered.
He flashed her a grin. He was Aldo “Fucking” Moretta. He didn’t get out of breath…or at least he did everything to hide it. “You’re fine. You’ve got a great pace.” He waved from his bike at a group of kids cheering from the end of their driveway. Almost the entire course had been lined with Benevolence residents. It was the best turn out he could remember for a race he’d been running since high school. Everyone seemed to be in the spirit.
“Where’s your mom?” Harper asked, pointing ahead at his mother’s yard and the end of the block.
“Finish line probably,” he told her. It was closer to the start of the parade, and Ina Moretta had an entire parade candy strategy honed from years of literally stealing candy from babies.
“How much farther?” Harper moaned. “I don’t think I’m going to make it. Maybe I’ll just wait here. You can come back and pick me up.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Do you hear the yelling?”
“I can barely hear anything over the wheezing of my lungs.”
“That’s the finish line.”
“Are you kidding? We’re almost done?”
“Half mile to go.”
“Seriously?” Harper perked up. “I think I can run that.”
