Second Chance Sweethearts (Love Inspired)

by Kristen Ethridge

  A smile cracked Pete’s face. “Gloria?”

  “I know. I’m not sure what is more mind-boggling. Losing my house, losing my job...or wondering if I’m losing my mind from being around my ex-boyfriend.”

  “Well, what are you going to do next?”

  “I think my best option will wind up being to sell the house to someone who will tear it down and rebuild it so I don’t have to.” She kicked at a red Lego piece from the children’s area that had been swept to the waiting room.

  Pete raised his eyebrows. “Really, Gloria?”

  She nudged the Lego with her toe again. “Oh, you meant about Rigo.”

  “Yeah.” He matched Gloria’s slowly emerging smile with one of his own. “About Rigo. You’re way too rational to think you’re losing your mind without already having thought of a plan to mitigate it. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Go with the flow, I guess.”

  Pete’s smile jumped to a full-fledged boyish grin. “You? Go with the flow? You have lost your mind, Gloria Rodriguez.”

  They’d worked together for several years, and it hadn’t taken the doctor long after meeting Gloria to diagnose her need for order and organization. “Probably so, Pete.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “To everything there is a season.” The quote from Ecclesiastes had never seemed more appropriate.

  Her now-former boss nodded. “Indeed there is.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  He looked out the window framed by dingy brown curtains that had once been white with colorful polka dots, then back at Gloria. “I’ve already put in a call to the director of Global Medical Mission. I’ll get the clinic cleaned up and closed up, put the property on the market and get the insurance paperwork in motion. And then I think it’s time for me to leave Port Provident and move on. I don’t know where they’d send me, but I’m open. You know it’s been a dream I’ve had for a long time.”

  She nodded. Gloria knew about dreams, the ones that never strayed far from the corners of the mind. She’d tried for so long to put the memories of her relationship with Rigo to sleep. But time and circumstance had acted like an alarm clock in her life, wrenching her out of the motions she’d been subconsciously going through for so long.

  “So I guess that’s it.” Gloria looked around the little clinic she’d grown to love. She’d started working here as a refuge from the worst moments in her life. Not having to work on the L&D floor at the hospital gave her a buffer from memories that, until this week, had brought her to tears every time she thought about them. Working at this out-of-hospital birth center had restored her faith in birth and her ability as a midwife after she hadn’t been able to save her own son.

  She would miss this little clinic. But she’d never forget the lessons she’d taken to heart here.

  Pete stood up and pulled a slip of paper out of the back pocket of his dirt-stained jeans. “I guess so. Here’s your last check, Gloria. I’m sorry it had to come to this. I hope things work out for all of us in this new chapter we’re being pushed into.”

  “I think they will, Pete.” A smile crept into the corners of Gloria’s lips. “You know what they say—‘That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’”

  Losing liters of blood, her own child and her husband hadn’t killed her. Starting over alone hadn’t killed her. It had taken a hurricane to make her see the reality, but she would never deny the truth again.

  “I know I’m stronger now,” she said, and she meant every word.

  * * *

  In the time of her life that Gloria now thought of as “PH,” or prehurricane, nothing settled her mind like an evening walk around the neighborhood. She would use the sidewalks of Port Provident to organize her thoughts about a birth she’d attended, something Gracie had said or even her sadness about being alone.

  Today, though, walking back from the clinic, Gloria’s mind raced at a pace far more quickly than her feet had ever taken her.

  Pete had laughed at her declaration that she was just going to see where things led. But she’d witnessed a different side of Rigo lately and she didn’t see how she could do otherwise. She’d seen a man who defied Mother Nature herself to bring people to safety. She’d seen a man who held her while she faced her deepest fears and opened up about his own.

  And she’d seen a man who quite literally would have saved her and those who depended upon her from drowning if it had come to that, even though they hadn’t talked for years or parted on good terms. Concentrating on both her thoughts and not stepping on scattered debris, Gloria realized she hadn’t thought about where she was going. But all the same, her footsteps had brought her back to the place they’d always brought her.

  Home.

  Right in front of her stood 909 Travis Place. But it looked very different than it had last time she saw it. Just as at the clinic, the refrigerator sat on the curb, sealed with bands of duct tape. All of her living room furniture had been pulled out to the covered front porch. The plywood that had covered most of her windows had been removed and stacked against the side of the house. Beige carpet, now stained darker brown from sand and seawater, had been rolled up with its blue-and-yellow-flecked under padding. They looked like amorphous logs at the edge of the grass.

  A flash of movement was visible in the open windows. Cautiously, she walked up the sidewalk to the front door, which stood wide-open.

  Rigo came into view, dragging a jagged piece of drywall almost as tall as he was.

  “Glo?” He rested the dusty rectangle of white against a corner of the living room wall. “I thought you were at the clinic.”

  “I was. I thought you were running an errand.”

  He wiped a hand carelessly across his sweaty brow. His dark hair clung to his forehead in damp tendrils.

  “I am. More or less. I’m helping out a friend.”

  Gloria ran her fingers along the door frame, tracing the grain of the wood. A lump settled into her throat. She tried to swallow it away before speaking. “You’ve been here the whole time since we left the church?”

  Rigo nodded.

  “You did this for me?” She almost couldn’t believe it.

  “You said it was going to be too hard for you to come over here for a few days. Mold is already setting in. I just didn’t want things to get any worse than they already are.”

  Gloria looked up at his sweat-stained face. She’d seen him a million times in the heat of the day, usually killing time on the beach after surfing or getting in a workout by running up and down the sand. But she stared at him as if she’d never seen him before.

  Truthfully, she never had seen him like this before.

  Even when they’d been teenagers, head-over-heels for each other, he’d never done anything on this level for her. The old Rigo would have been more concerned about himself. He would have been helpful, but not all in.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she finally got out.

  He smiled. The confidence in that simple gesture spoke wordlessly, straight to her heart.

  “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to do anything. The electricity is scheduled to come back on in the morning and they plan to open the causeway in the afternoon. People can start coming back home. Take care of your parents. Take care of the restaurant, of Gracie’s place. Do what you need to at the clinic. I’ve got this.”

  She shook her head. It didn’t seem right. He’d done enough. She wanted to find a way back to friendship again. Not to be in his debt, or for him to be in hers. “I just need a little time, Rigo. You have a job to do. You don’t need me in the way.”

  He pushed the sweaty hair back off his forehead. “You’re right.”

  She was glad he saw it her way. Just friends. Clean slate. No one beholden
to the other.

  Rigo looked straight at her. He reached out a hand and lifted her chin so that their gazes met. A decade melted away in an instant as his eyes turned two shades darker, the iris almost matching the black of the pupil in the center.

  She knew this look. She’d once lived for this look.

  “I don’t need you in the way, Gloria. I just need you.”

  Gloria’s breath came short. That sounded like more than just friends, more than she was willing to give.

  She opened her mouth to say something, to set him straight. He pulled his finger from under her chin and laid it lightly upon her lips, warning her to silence. She felt a tingle like a minty lip balm across the soft skin.

  Rigo shook his head, telling her he wasn’t finished. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove I came back for the right reasons. I’m going to earn back your trust.”

  He trailed his finger off slowly. She stood perfectly still, unable to break that hard stare.

  “And once I do, I’m not stopping there.”

  * * *

  Rigo couldn’t believe he’d been so direct. The look on Gloria’s face told him that he should have thought that one through before he spoke. But he couldn’t help it.

  “I came back to apologize to you, Gloria. To set things right between us.” He needed her to know. “But I know now I’m not going to be right without you. Not ever.”

  She still didn’t speak. The silence began to spread, threatening to shut down the hard-won emotional truce that had settled between them since her unexpected phone call. His heart still pumped furiously, but the adrenaline began to turn to ice. In the past, Rigo had dealt with overwhelming emotions and uncomfortable situations by numbing them with alcohol or just turning and walking away.

  But he’d learned he was stronger than that. Rigo’s counselors had shown him that he had never backed down from a wave, he’d never backed down from a bullet—and he used that knowledge to know he wasn’t going to back down now.

  “Glo. Please. Just say something. If I’m making you uncomfortable, tell me. But I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

  She spoke, so softly he almost missed it. “You can stay.”

  He watched the rise and fall of her chest. Measured, steady. Almost too measured, as though she were focused on the simple act of breathing.

  “I don’t want to upset you.”

  “You didn’t upset me. You surprised me.” She paused and ruffled her fingers through her hair, shifting her gaze downward. “You scared me.”

  Rigo nodded. That was understandable. He’d scared himself. “How so?”

  “Because I don’t think I want you to stop there, either.” The words came out in a low-pitched rush, as though she were trying to get them out before she was tempted to take them back.

  His heart sputtered a bit, it raced and then thudded with the realization of what he’d said. And with the responsibility. He knew the reason that their dreams had shattered rested on no one’s shoulders but his own. He also knew that righting that wrong rested on his shoulders.

  Lord, make me worthy of her. Not just her forgiveness. All of her.

  “So where do we start?” Rigo wanted to be respectful of the hint of fear he still saw in Gloria’s eyes. Clearly, she felt the same attraction he did. And clearly she still remembered the past. He was willing to let her take the lead. He owed her that much.

  “Well, lunch today was nice. It was good to just share conversation and a meal.”

  He’d take her out to the best restaurant in town, three meals a day, to show her he meant what he said. But they were just days past a hurricane taking over their hometown, laying waste to electricity, buildings and fresh food.

  Rigo let his gaze rest on Gloria softly. She’d always been pretty, but the years since they were teenagers had allowed her face to grow into true beauty. He loved that she was still petite enough to tuck perfectly under his shoulder and wrap his arms around. He wanted to earn the right to do that again. He knew that, in spite of the havoc the hurricane had brought, he needed to find a way to honor Gloria’s request. He wanted them to rebuild in whatever manner brought her the most comfort. If that was over the quiet company of a meal, then he would make that happen.

  “Meet me at the top of Inez’s stairs at eight o’clock.”

  “Wait, what?” She gave a skeptical look from the side corner of her eye.

  He broke into a grin as the plan came together in his mind. “I’d like to take you out on a date. Would you please do me the honor of dining with me tonight?”

  It felt like asking her out for the first time all over again. Roll together all the times he’d asked her to homecoming and prom, and he’d still never been as nervous as right now. So much more was at stake than a dance after a football game and some high school popularity points.

  “Rigo. There’s a dusk-until-dawn curfew on. We can’t go out to dinner. And don’t you have to work?” The quizzical look in her eyes intensified and caught the light, giving them a glassy shine.

  “Gloria. I help enforce the curfew. But I have a plan. And I don’t have to be back on shift until eleven tonight.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He felt like she was going to say yes, and it made him happier than he’d been in years.

  Her lips pursed, bringing his thoughts back in time. He wanted to kiss her. For real. Not just the light touch to the head he’d given her in the nursery. But he knew he couldn’t. Dinner was in the plan. Real kissing wasn’t.

  At least not yet.

  “I have no idea what you’ve got up your sleeve. But that goofy grin tells me something’s going on in your mind.” She relaxed the curiosity in her stare.

  “Do you trust me?”

  The words were simple, but the answer was not. If she said no, he knew he’d have to live with that. His actions had brought them to this point, after all.

  But his thoughts broke and the prayer of the past days flowed into his mind. Lord, make me worthy of her forgiveness. And then a postscript. Give me the chance to show her the change You’ve brought about in me.

  “Not entirely.” She pointed a slim finger at him, the bubblegum-pink polish roughened and chipped at the end of the nail. “Prove me wrong. You have one chance.”

  That was the Gloria he knew and had loved. Feisty. Issuing orders. Not the scared, shattered Gloria of late. He knew how to deal with sassy, secure Gloria.

  He knew how to sweep this Gloria off her feet.

  One chance was all he needed.

  * * *

  It felt silly, but Gloria rummaged through the upstairs closet at Inez’s, looking for something nicer to wear than the sweaty and stained T-shirt and shorts that had become her de facto uniform. Of the few things she’d brought in her suitcase, she hadn’t packed anything that fit the bill—because who expected to dress for a date during a hurricane? She felt exhausted, grubby and anything but date material.

  A lightweight jersey dress that appeared to belong to one of Inez’s granddaughters hung at the back of the closet. Judging by the style, it had probably been purchased about ten years ago. Gloria shrugged her shoulders—Rigo was a man, and a beach bum at that. He wouldn’t notice if something was the latest style or not. And it was pink and summery and definitely not a dirty T-shirt. It made her feel special and dressed up after days of wearing muck.

  She didn’t know why thinking about this evening brought butterflies to her stomach, or why she’d want to spend any effort on salvaging a sundress that wasn’t hers. Or trying to fix her hair into some semblance of order. Or to do anything to not look grubby and disheveled.

  But it did seem to matter. More than she was comfortable admitting. And as the minutes ticked closer to eight o’clock, Gloria’s butterflies began to dance and twirl even more noticeably.

  At one minute until
eight, a knock sounded at the door of the bedroom where Gloria had been staying.

  Before words could even be exchanged, Gloria caught Rigo’s gaze sizing her up from head to toe and in between.

  “You look beautiful, Gloria. I don’t know where you found a dress in the middle of a disaster-recovery zone, but you did. You’re amazing, as usual.” Rigo beamed broadly. “I thought I would come and pick you up. I’m just glad I don’t have to face your dad. He doesn’t really like me.”

  “He doesn’t like how you treated me. He used to like you just fine.”

  “Well, that’s good. It means he’ll like me again one of these days.” Rigo put out his arm, like Fred Astaire leading Ginger Rogers to the dance floor. “Because I’m never going to treat you like that again.”

  Gloria hoped not. She’d accepted this invitation out of her new belief that she had to forgive Rigo in order to move on. If he inflicted one more bruise on her battered heart, she knew she’d never heal enough to trust or forgive again. The stakes were high and although she wanted to be positive, a part of her held back. It would be skeptical until proven otherwise, no matter what the rest of her wanted to believe.

  “Come this way.”

  Rigo led her down the hallway to a small door at the end. Painted a polar shade of white, it was smaller than the other doors and didn’t quite fit with the rest of the features of Inez’s Victorian home. In her few days here, Gloria hadn’t even noticed it.

  “You’re going to need to duck a bit,” Rigo said, turning the heavy brass sphere of a doorknob.

  The small door swung silently on matching brass hinges.

  “It’s like Alice’s door to Wonderland,” Gloria said.

  Rigo nodded. “It’s Inez’s door to the attic. But it is definitely a door to all sorts of wonder. There are trunks and boxes up here filled with items that have been in my family for generations. Watch your step.”

  Gloria tiptoed around a narrow path between boxes and birdcages and rolls of old fabric, jewel-tone colors subdued by years of dust.