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“When he has the time, sure. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are all old people that oblivious?”
“Hey! I’m not that old.”
“You’re, like, seven or eight years older than me. That’s a lifetime,” Bailey told her. “And Frank? He’s almost thirty.”
She said it like it was a dirty word. For a teenager, Gloria guessed it was.
“So?”
Bailey shrugged. “It’s about time he settled down with a good girl who cares about him. And before you try to tell me that you don’t, or you’re not, think about the ice cream in Frank’s fridge. You came all the way down here to bring him some.”
Gloria didn’t have an answer for that. With an impish grin, she nodded, then pointed at Bailey. “You may have a point. Just make sure your brother gets some of the ice cream, okay?”
Her dark eyes, so similar to Franklin’s, twinkled innocently. “No promises.”
Gloria chuckled, already running through her ingredients to see if she could make another batch for Franklin or if she needed to swing by Jefferson’s for some of the essentials.
“It was nice talking to you, Bailey. Tell Ethan I said hi.”
“I will. See ya later.”
With a wave, Gloria started to head toward the door, pausing when Bailey called after her.
“Hey, Gloria?”
“Yeah?”
“I… quick question. Did Frank mention to you that Deputy Walsh stopped by the garage the other day?”
Gloria shook her head. “No. Can’t say that he did.”
“Huh. When you see him again, maybe you should ask him about that.”
Yeah. Maybe she would.
Franklin returned to the mountain so late that night, it was already dark by the time she heard his truck pulling into the drive.
To her surprise and delight, once he parked his truck and killed the engine, he didn’t go home. At least, not to his home.
Within seconds of his arrival, Gloria heard a knock at her front door. She went to open it, smiling when she found him standing on her porch.
With his hands in his pockets, and a bit of an embarrassed smile, he asked, “Up for a little company tonight?”
Gloria would never turn a friend in need away. It just wasn’t the type of person she was. But to have it be Franklin, who was so clearly struggling…
“Always.”
He slipped inside her house. Gloria closed the door behind him and, without a word, gestured for him to join her on the couch in front of the television.
Franklin didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The gray stor
m clouds that seemed to follow in his wake those first few days she met him had returned with a vengeance. Even if she didn’t know the reason behind his bad mood, she would’ve recognized that he was in the middle of one.
After Nana’s passing, Gloria threw herself into things that made her happy so that she never got too lost in her grief. Ice cream was a biggie. Already such a huge part of her life, she spent those first few terrible weeks creating recipe after recipe, flavor after flavor, anything to keep from focusing on how lonely she was.
So after she got Franklin to join her on the couch, she put on a mindless movie she thought he might like—for the first time in days, she made sure there wasn’t a single Christmas element in the whole film—and made him a huge sundae. Sometimes the original was the best, and she loaded a sweet vanilla ice cream with a rich fudge, home-made whipped cream, and a ripe cherry.
