Pretend You're Mine(94)
“I’ll take that as the glowing compliment you meant it to be.”
“I heard you talked to Joni Whitwood this weekend.”
“Did you also hear what I had for breakfast?” Harper rolled her eyes. “Yes. I ran into Joni and we talked.”
“How is she?”
Harper tried to gauge from his expression what his interest in the topic was, but came up empty.
“She’s doing okay.” She slung her bag over her shoulder.
“She’s had a rough time. Her and Luke.”
Harper nodded.
“It looks like Luke’s starting to do better what with you and all. It’d be nice if the same could be said for Joni.”
“Do you know her?”
He looked at the toes of his boots. “I used to. A long time ago.”
She waited for him to continue, but he went back to checking the lid of the drywall mud.
“Will you need help tomorrow?” Harper finally asked, digging her keys out of her bag.
“I’ve got the mudding covered. You can go back to sitting on your ass behind a desk.” The rudeness was there, but it sounded softer somehow.
“You’re welcome, Frank. I’m happy I could help, too,” she quipped on her way out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The Fourth of July was an even bigger deal in Benevolence than the Not-So Polar Plunge.
The town festivities kicked off in the morning with the Red, White, and Blue 5k. Aldo had surprised her the day before with an American flag tank top and a racing bib.
“A 5k? I can’t do a 5k!”
“Like hell you can’t. If I’m doing it on this stupid hand cycle, you’re running with me.” He had flopped down on her couch.
Aldo’s therapists had put the kibosh on him walking the race on his new leg and instead wrangled a hand cycle for him.
“If you’re flailing around like an idiot beside me, no one will notice ol’ Peg Leg Aldo on the freaking circus bike.”
“Don’t even pretend you’re embarrassed. You’re going to eat up all the attention,” Harper poked him in the shoulder.
“It’s kind of hard to impress a girl when you’re acting like you’re handicap.”
“Just take your shirt off and no one will care if you’re doing the race on a miniature pony. Is there any girl in particular you’re trying to impress?”
He took a swig of water. “Maybe.”
Now they were lined up next to each other at the start. There had been a flurry of people coming up to shake Aldo’s hand, hug him, and thank him for his service. He handled the attention gracefully. She thought about the reclusive Luke on the receiving end of attention like this. The well-meaning attention after Karen’s death must have smothered him.
More racers filled in around them at the start line and the clock ticked toward 9. Harper put a hand over her fluttering heart. “I’m so nervous! Is it normal to be nervous?” she hissed at Aldo.
“It’s not nerves. It’s excitement.”
The race’s announcer cut in on their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem, sung by Peggy Anne Marsico.”
Aldo climbed off of the bike to stand at attention in a military salute. Harper felt tears well up watching a man who gave so much for his country salute the flag.
What would Luke and his unit do today to celebrate? Was it just another day? Or did they celebrate with the rest of America?
Peggy shocked Harper back to present with an amazing soprano. An entire crop of goose bumps shot up on every inch of her skin.
She stood in the sunshine of a beautiful Fourth of July morning and basked in her pride of the man she loved and his best friend.
***
“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. “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. Harper could see Mrs. Moretta’s house coming up on the left, but she wasn’t outside.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Finish line probably.”
“How much farther? 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.”