The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (45 page)

That ring could have changed my life,
Johnny thought, staring at the pennies that surrounded the ring.
Now it’s just … lost change.
He looked at the dusty Firefly on top of his computer monitor.
No point in taking that either. Gloria was right. It was a stupid purchase.

He rolled into Señor Pizza ten minutes late, but he didn’t think that would matter. Thursdays were notoriously slow until eight.

“
Marion called,” Hector said. “Four large. She say she give you a big tip tonight, heh heh.”

Heh heh to you, Hector.
Johnny read the ticket.
Yep. Seven-fifteen, huh? Marion’s up to something, probably trying to get Gloria and me back together. Kind of a shame Gloria didn’t make this call. She has been calling here to talk to me. I just don’t have anything more to say to her.
Johnny felt guilty as soon as he thought it.
Some hero I am. Gunn would just … storm her house, drag her outside, and kiss her to death.

“
I’m not feeling very well tonight, Hector,” Johnny said.

Hector smiled. “Wonderful! After you take Marion’s order, you can go.”

It’s so nice not to be needed.
“I meant that I really shouldn’t be around food.”
What illness do I claim tonight? I already used diarrhea, swine flu, and the hanta virus.
“I’m pretty sure I have an upper respiratory infection in my lungs.”

Hector smiled ever broader. “You will not be in tomorrow either then! And maybe not for Super Bowl Sunday! Like I said, take Marion’s order and go home.”

I don’t want any of them to see me,
Johnny thought.
I look like an anorexic Moses. And I don’t want to see any of them anyway. .

Johnny knew that wasn’t true. He missed them all. He missed Gloria’s smile, laughter, and warmth. He missed Angel’s rare giggles and questions. He missed—

He had trouble naming what he missed about Marion, but he missed that unnamed thing as well.

I don’t have to even go up on the porch. I can just reach over and put the pizzas on Marion’s chair and vanish. Four large costs … thirty percent of my total assets at the moment. Shoot. It’s not as if I need food money. That’s like throwing money down the drain. But … I kind of like having heat and a roof over my head. I’ll just … knock on the door, hand them the pizzas, wave off the charge, not say a word, and leave.

Johnny knew he couldn’t do that, especially if Angel answered the door. He had to be manly about it.
I’ll just have to be professional about all this, and if Marion or anyone else asks me inside, I’ll just say, “Regulations forbid it, ma’am.”

Good thing I wrote that book on delivering pizzas.

33

After returning from the mall, Gloria lay on her bed for only a moment and was sound asleep. She had a fitful, confusing dream where a talking pit bull puppy was teaching a yoga class position number thirty-four, only she couldn’t form her half circle correctly. “You’re a bleeding rectangle!” the dog barked at her with a strangely Scottish accent. When her dream feet and hands transformed into wooden blocks, she woke in a cold sweat.

She didn’t want to get out of bed, get dressed, get on a bus, go to McDonald’s, get on another bus, and come back home with cold burgers and colder fries, but Angel’s excited shouts from the front door pierced Gloria’s floor and made her body automatically swivel to the edge. Gloria stood and rushed to her bedroom door, opened it, and said, “Angel, I’ll be down in a minute.”

Angel ran up the steps. “Mama, you’re not dressed.”

“
Because I’ve been asleep,” Gloria said. She stretched and sniffed the air.
Nothing’s cooking. Maybe I can convince her to walk with me a few blocks to Burger King.
“You still want McDonald’s?”

“
No.” Angel cut her eyes to the stairs. “But Mama, you have to get dressed.”

What is going on with this child?
“Why? We’ll get Grandma to fix something.”

Angel sighed and pushed Gloria into her room. “I want you to get dressed now.”

Gloria sat on her bed. “You still haven’t told me why.”

A rapid knock on the door made Gloria jump.

“
He’s here!” Angel smiled.

Gloria smiled. Johnny? “Who’s here?”

“
My daddy!”

Angel tore out of Gloria’s room and down the stairs leaving Gloria muttering, “Paul … Paul is here.”

But how did Angel know? How could she know? She came home, she woke me up …
Gloria looked at the nightstand.
She was standing there at the nightstand when I woke up. She might have been standing there a long time—

She saw Paul’s card on the nightstand! But how could she know that the man on that card was her daddy unless Mama told her?
She rushed again to her door.

Gloria was getting an unintended workout.

“
Hello, little one,” Gloria heard Paul saying. “And who might you be?”

Oh no, baby, please, please, please don’t say—

“
I’m your daughter, Angel, and you’re my daddy.”

Gloria shut her door, pinning her back to it. She spied the dress clothes hanging in her closet.
I was supposed to dress up earlier today in case her daddy returned to meet her? Our little trip was only to get a puzzle so she could impress him? Or something like that. The child is as sneaky as her grandma, who will be going to a nursing home as soon as I can swing it. What am I going to do now?

“
Gloria!” Marion called. “Gloria, you have company!”

“
Mama, mama!” Angel called. “My daddy is here!”

And Paul isn’t speaking,
Gloria thought.
But what can he say? I’m sure he’s just as shocked as I am.

Gloria opened her door a crack. “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she said. “Angel, why don’t you and, um, Paul, go work on your puzzle?”

“
C’mon, Daddy,” she heard Angel say.

Gloria sat on her bed to collect the three or four bazillion thoughts screaming through her mind like—

She laughed derisively.

Like flying dinosaurs,
Gloria thought.
My head feels like a geranium.

Gloria tried to slow her breathing and take stock of the situation.
Paul already knows he’s a daddy. This is good because I don’t have to break it to him, but it’s also bad because I didn’t break it to him. How he must feel! He walks into a house, smiles at a little girl, and finds out he’s her father. I’m surprised he stayed! What am I going to do?
She stood.
I’ll just get dressed and go downstairs and—

A vomit burp crept up from her stomach and exploded into her throat.

But first—why now, God?—I need to throw up.

Gloria dashed to the bathroom, shut the door, lifted the lid, and threw up her pancakes and eggs breakfast.
I’m sure my barfing is still echoing through the house. What Paul must be thinking!
She wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and listened at the door.

“
Is she all right?” Paul said.

“
She’s excited to see you, Daddy!” Angel announced.

Gloria slumped against the door.
I’m nauseous, little girl, not excited.
Another vomit burp bubbled up her throat and descended into an empty stomach.
I feel like such a rectangle!
She sat on the seat.

“
You all right?” Marion asked from outside the door.

I am not speaking to her.

“
You think you’ll be able to handle some pizza in about twenty minutes, Gloria?”

She ordered … pizza. Why not? The night is young. Might as well mess it up completely because … Johnny’s on his way.

I have lost five pounds just now.

Paul is downstairs.

Angel is gushing over her daddy.

Mama is gushing all over Paul.

Mama did all this.

I am never speaking to her again!

“
You know, if you don’t eat the pepperoni,” Marion said, “you might just get by.”

Gloria growled.

“
And eat all the crusts,” Marion said, “you know, to sop up all that nervousness in your stomach. I’ll pour you a tall glass of milk.”

Gloria threw open the door. When she didn’t see Marion but did see Paul standing at the bottom of the stairs, Angel holding his hand, Gloria flashed him a smile and a wave and tore into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“
She’ll be down directly, Paul,” Marion said. “You two go back to your puzzle.”

Gloria growled her way through putting on black slacks and white blouse, not because they weren’t nice, but because they were tight.
Hey now,
she thought,
I haven’t worn this outfit in a long time. I’m losing weight.
She blinked at herself in the mirror.
Oh yeah. I’m mad at my Mama.
She turned sideways and looked at her booty.
Not bad, not bad.
She growled at her mirror as she brushed her hair. She growled at the too-tight dress shoes that she hated to wear but that had looked so cute when she had bought them.

A rumble shook the house.

That sounds like … a Vega.

“
Johnny’s here!” Angel cried. “Mama, Johnny’s here!”

Gloria wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go back to sleep and growl at the pit bull yoga instructor. She wanted to sit in the bathroom all night flushing her life away. She wanted to do anything but open her door and walk down those stairs.

Three strong knocks sounded from the front door.

Gloria turned her doorknob, pulled her door to her, and walked into the unknown.

34

Johnny hadn’t wanted to go to the door, but because he had to park behind a new Toyota Prius, he became curious.
Who drives the golf cart? Did Gloria break down and get a car? And why a hybrid? Hybrids are so … trendy, so tacky.
He looked at himself, wearing his full Señor Pizza outfit so he would look completely professional.
Okay. I’m a bit tacky, too.

When the door opened and Johnny saw a tall, dark stranger with long hair holding Angel’s hand and Gloria all dressed up and coming down the stairs, however, Johnny wished, secretly, that he had rear-ended the Prius, dropped the pizzas on the street, run over them and the Prius several times, and peeled what rubber remained on the Vega’s tires in his haste to go to a place where he could go properly insane.

“
Howdy, Johnny,” Marion said. “Won’t you come in?”

Johnny glanced to his left and saw four Christmas presents stacked under the window. Maybe they just want me here to collect my gifts. He looked up and blinked several times faster than a parrot at the woman slinking down the stairs. He couldn’t take his eyes off Gloria, who froze halfway down and looked away from him. His arms and shoulders lost feeling, and he started to hyperventilate. “Um, thirty even, um, thirty dollars.”
Those aren’t sensible shoes, my former sweet patootie, and whoa, you never dressed up for me like that. Geez. I was just here a few weeks ago, and now this?

“
The money is in the kitchen, Johnny,” Marion said.

Of course it’s in the kitchen. I’m not falling for that.
Johnny focused on Marion’s wrinkled chin. “Um, ma’am, regulations forbid—”

“
Nonsense,” Marion said. “I can’t carry all those pizzas to the kitchen by myself. I’m an old lady, Johnny.” She stepped closer. “Get your butt in there,” she whispered, “and don’t you ever call me ‘ma’am’ again.”