Gloria

“Yeah. Me, too.” Bailey cleared her throat. “And, before you ask, I’m gonna tell my brother one of these days, too, so don’t worry about him not knowing. I just… you know, I’ve got to wait until after Christmas. Frank will be in a much better mood by then.”

Gloria couldn’t stop herself from nodding in agreement. “I hope so. Your brother, uh… he doesn’t like this time of year.”

“Well, yeah, but I understand. It always hits him way worse than the rest of us. I mean, I was only like two when Mom walked out on us right before Christmas. Oh, crud. It’s today, actually. Didn’t even realize it ‘til I just thought about it right now. Mom walked out fifteen years ago today. No wonder Franklin buzzed earlier and told me he was heading out of town to get supplies. He tends to go mope city around the anniversary and… and you didn’t know about any of this, did you?”

No. Gloria didn’t. Though, all of a sudden, Franklin’s irrational dislike of Christmas made a whole lot more sense than it did before she walked into the garage.

It was like Gloria and October. She hated the freaking month. If the fire had happened during the holidays—if Nana had passed away during the end of December—wouldn’t she be a Grinch, too?

“Oh, man. Frank hates it when I talk about our mom. He blames her for leaving even though, you ask me, it was probably the best thing for us. Hamlet was too small for her, and Dad’s way happier with Vanessa. It’s just… well, you know how Frank can get. Man, he’s gonna be so ticked that I said something.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna say anything unless Franklin says something to me first. But,” she added, partly because she was curious, and partly because she wanted to wipe that worried expression from Bailey’s face, “you know, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

Bailey’s relief that Gloria was dropping the subject was palpable. “Sure. Anything.”

“A couple of weeks ago, the first time I came to your brother’s garage… you were saying something about a chain. I went exploring—”

The relief didn’t last. Bailey took in a deep breath, her eyes going wide. “Oh, no. Did you tell Frank you were doing that?”

“What? No. Why should I?”

“Jeez, Gloria. My brother would have my hide if he knew you actually went searching for that spot.”

“Why? What is it?”

Bailey tightened her lips, shaking her head.

“Come on, Bailey,” Gloria wheedled with an innocent grin. “How will I know how to avoid it if I don’t even know what it is?”

The girl exhaled softly through her nose. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to say anything to Frank about it.”

Gloria crossed her heart. “You have my word.”

“First of all, if you were looking around where you and Franklin live, I’m not surprised you couldn’t find it. The spot’s a little closer to town, tucked closer to the bottom of the mountains, hidden in the trees. You don’t even see the chain unless someone’s using it. There’s these two posts, right? When the chain’s in the dirt, it’s hidden and you know the spot is free. If someone loops the chain across the two posts, the spot’s taken.”

“Taken for what?”

“You know. It’s where some of us kids go when we’re looking for a little privacy.” Bailey leaned in, her dark hair a curtain as she whispered conspiratorially to Gloria. “In case you didn’t notice, Hamlet’s kinda a small town. You gotta take whatever privacy you can get.”

Understanding dawned on Gloria. “So… it’s like a make-out spot?”

“Something like that. I mean, it’s an open secret. Everyone in Hamlet knows about it. You gotta respect the chain. It’s just… the adults pretend to forget it’s there once they stop having a reason to use it. You understand?”

Gloria did. After all, she’d been young once. And when she was dating Xavier, they had a couple of spots they liked to go to to get away from Nana’s careful eye. So, yeah, she understood the meaning behind the mountainside make-out spot.

That didn’t mean she understood what the big deal was that she’d been curious enough to look for it.

“Why would he be mad if I went there?”

Bailey gave her an expression that, in teen terms, totally meant no, duh. “‘Cause he wants to be the one to take you there.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Frank has got it bad for you, Gloria. You had to have known that.”

No. She didn’t. “You got it wrong. He’s only been spending so much time with me because he felt bad when I fell.”

“Your wrist looks okay to me,” Bailey said, gesturing at her bandage-free wrist. “Now, tell me: is my brother still stopping by your place?”