Marriage (Red, White &) Blues (Unexpectedly Married #2)

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

“ H ey, Gloria, don’t freak out,” Pen said into the phone when I answered it the next morning after my husband left.

“Freak out… about what ?” I asked slowly and a bit stuttered because now I started to freak out. “Is Ant okay?”

“He’s fine.”

“Sierra? Pete?”

“They’re both fine—Gloria, you know Freida, she’s the receptionist on Ant’s floor—she lives close to your neighborhood. Since you’ve been in Vermont, she’s been doing ant a solid and driving by your place when she gets the chance.”

“Oh -kay …” My friends had someone watching my house for me? I didn’t know how to feel about this news except to say that I loved my friends hardcore.

“Glory, the police should be there soon to check things out.”

“The police? Where?”

“Your house. She didn’t know you were still in town and drove by. She called just a few minutes ago when she saw a light on to report someone squatting in your home.”

“ Squatting ?” I said dumbly because my mind still fumbled around the fact that my friends asked someone to watch my home. A knock sounded on the front door. No, that wasn’t right. Pounding—loud, continuous pounding on the front door.

“This is the Beverly Hills Police. I need you to open up.”

“Hold on, Pen,” I said into the line as I walked over to the door and opened it and I was immediately shoved back by two police officers. He got me in my collarbone. Crap that hurt.

“We’ve gotten a call about someone illegally residing in this residence.”

“My name is Gloria Parker. I own this place.”

“I need to see some identification,” the officer demanded.

I nodded my head. “Let me get my purse.”

“Gloria?” Pen asked in my ear again.

“Just a minute, Pen,” I said to her as I scurried to the kitchen counter, where I’d dumped my purse off yesterday after returning from the airport. I fished through it to find my wallet and walked my ID back into the living room where the officers waited for me. “Here.” I handed the man closest to me my driver’s license.

“This says you live in Vermont,” he says and his demeanor turned scary.

“Yes. I live mostly in Vermont, but this is my childhood home. It was left to me and my mother after my father died. But my mother recently remarried and she left the house to me. I stay here when I come to visit.”

“Who is the title holder?” the second officer asked, making me jump because he’d been quiet all this time.

“It’s in Elizabeth Kowalski’s name. Let me call her.” To Pen, I said, “Let me call you back. I have to call my mom.”

“I’m so sorry. We didn’t think to tell her you’d be here for a while.”

“Pen, it’s a comedy of errors, but I have to get this taken care of.”

“Let me have Ant call the police.”

Pen hung up with me and I called my mom. “Gloria, this is a surprise.”

“Sorry, I know you’re on your honeymoon, but I have a little situation.”

“A situation?” she asked and that worried mom tone came out.

“Someone called the police because they thought someone was squatting in the house, but I’m still here in Michigan, so no one is squatting. It’s just me and I need to know where the title is located.”

“The title? To the house?”

“Yup.”

“It’s in the safe under the other important papers. Do you remember the code?”

“I remember.”

“Let me talk to the officers,” my mom said.

“Sure.” I turned to the officer. “I have to run upstairs to the safe to get the title. I have my mother on the line. She’s on her honeymoon right now, but she wants to talk with you.” I handed over my phone. The second officer escorted me upstairs and he waited in the bedroom while I opened the safe in the closet and I dug through all the papers to a yellow manila envelope sitting on the bottom of the safe. Typed on a white label: House Title.

I pulled out the envelope and shut the safe door. “Here it is,” I said to the officer, waving it like a flag because I was that awkward. The officer escorted me back down into the living room, where the first officer was just getting off a call on his shoulder walkie.

“Precinct called. We’re good,” the officer said.

“Good?” I asked.

“Good?” the second officer asked.

“They were contacted by Stanton McCain of the McCain Group.”

The second officer looked to me, “You know Stanton McCain?”

I nodded. “He and his wife, Penelope Von Dutton-McCain, are some of my closest friends.” I hated to name drop but as I was still under orders to lay low, I couldn’t exactly tell them I was the Gloria Parker married to the brother of the man running for president.

“What did you say your name was?” the first officer asked.

“Gloria Parker. Gloria Kowalski Parker.”

“And you live in Vermont?”

Again, I nodded.

“Hey,” the second officer said and I knew from the look on his face that he recognized mine. Curses. Foiled again . “Didn’t I see you on the news campaigning for that Brockton Parker character?”

“You did. He’s my brother-in-law.”

“So, you’re, like, a millionaire or something?” the second officer asked.

“Something like that,” I answered watching his eyes fill with wonder.

“I’ve been watching the polls. Michigan’s a battleground state.”

“We usually are.”

“Think he’ll win?” the second officer asked. I didn’t want him to lose hope. When people lost hope, they didn’t vote. That was how we lost elections.

Sigh . I had no freaking clue if Brock would win, but he wouldn’t win with my vote. “Everyone has to vote their heart,” I said, “but between you and me, I’m not voting for him.”

The officer’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, he was so surprised. “But you were campaigning for him?”

“Family obligation—if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Are you kidding me? You got the Von Duttons, the McCains, and the Parkers behind you. There’s not enough money in the world to make me talk. I got a wife and kids, and I don’t plan to end my days wearing cement shoes.”

The man made a good point. Now, the idea of the Von Duttons or McCains stooping low enough to commit murder was laughable. Robert Parker on the other hand—I hated thinking that about my father-in-law even if I couldn’t stand the man. But not wanting to lie to the officer, I did the whole, bite my bottom lip, trying to look innocent but not looking him in the eye thing and he filled in the rest off of his assumptions.

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Parker,” the first officer said. “We’ll be leaving now.” Each man dipped his hat as they passed me without another word. I shut the door just as my phone, which Officer One had apparently set on the coffee table when he’d finished speaking with my mother, lit up with Pen’s name.

Picking it up, I swiped to answer. “ Pen ?”

“Open your door,” she said. Strange, but okay. I walked back over to the front door and saw Pen walking up to my front porch. “That was quite the adventure for seven o’clock on a Monday morning.”

I flipped my hand in the air. “A day in the life of Gloria Parker.”

“I love having you here, but not going to lie, I was hoping that after last week, this forced separation was over for you two.”

“Dare to dream,” I replied. “We have to get through the election and then who even knows after? It’s getting old real fast, Pen. I want my husband back for good. Blake thinks we have to let them think they’re winning to draw out the reason whoever set me up, set me up.”

“Is he being careful?”

“He sure as hell better be. I have plans for my life and they don’t involve becoming a widow at twenty-four.”

“We’ll get you through this.” And I knew they would. That’s what friends were for. “What do you plan to do now that you have full use of your arm again?”

“I think I might volunteer at the shelter.”

“That works perfectly for me,” she said, smiling like the best idea just came to her. “Ant’s working from home tomorrow. We’ll pick you up at eleven.”

“For?” I asked.

“We’re heading to the animal shelter because we’ve decided to expand our family.”

“Oh my god, congratulations! Are you thinking dog or cat?” I asked. This news brightened my day right up.

“Well, Ant has his heart set on a dog, but you know, I don’t care so long as it’s healthy.” She bent forward touching her forehead to mine, bracing her hand on my shoulder while we giggled until breathless. God, we were so ridiculous.

“You’re here, want breakfast?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“Can’t I just wanted to make sure you were okay after this morning’s debacle. I have a commission coming due and we just took off all that time.”

We both stood from the sofa then I walked her to the door where we gave ‘goodbye’ hugs. I still kicked myself for thinking Pen had ever moved on from me. No regrets, I got a husband out of that zany thought, but still.

And speak of the devil. After Pen left, my phone lit up with a call from Blake. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said as a ‘ hello .’ “I heard you had some excitement today.”

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Got a call from Ant.”

“Oh, so now you two are BFFs?”

“He’s a good guy and looking out for my interests.” His tone was teasing. I loved a teasing Blake.

“Your interests, huh? I’m an interest now?”

“Glory, never a time I’m not interested in you. How come you didn’t call me?”

“Well, you’re in Vermont and we were taking care of it. Ant called the station and I had my mom on the phone to help me find the title. There really was no need to bother you.”

“Sweetheart, you’re never a bother. I’d like to know when these things happen. I can’t be physically with you right now, but I’m still here. I didn’t marry you for us to still have to go it alone.”

“Technically, I wasn’t alone.” I thought it was playful but the twenty seconds of dead air changed my mind real fast. “Okay,” I said thoughtfully. “In future I’ll call.”

“Thank you.” His earnestness made my breath catch. This was hardly a blip on the trouble radar but it meant something to him for me to call. He wanted to be involved in my life— you said your ‘I do’s, he gave you a ring, of course he wants to be involved. Right. Enough of that.

“How is the world of espionage?” I asked. Fingers crossed he had good news, but instead he sighed heavily into the phone.

“I wish I could say better. I faxed Ant over the file. He’s got people on it. I’ve got people on it. But whoever is behind this, they’re keeping tightlipped.”

“Do you think we’ll ever find out?”

“Oh—we’ll find out. It’s just taking longer than I want it to because I want my wife back, dammit.”

“I have it on good authority that she wants to be back… For good this time.”

“Miss you, Gloria Parker.”

“Miss you, too, Blake Parker.”

“Alright, I have a lunch meeting so I’ll let you go, but I’ll call later tonight.”

“Okay. Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too,” he said and hung up.

The rest of the day I puttered around the house, went grocery shopping, cooked a pot of chicken noodle soup for dinner and vegged out watching reruns of Beat Bobby Flay . All in all, it was a decent night. Blake called before bed feeling a little frisky, and frisky Blake was a thing of beauty, indeed. He made a decent night escalate into freaking phenomenal territory. FaceTime made the best wingman.

About ten to eleven, Ant turned his Jag into my driveway. I’d been keeping an eye out because puppies! What kind of person didn’t get excited over the prospect of petting puppies? And more importantly, did I even want to know them?

I slung my purse crossbody over my shoulder, locked the front door, and speed-walked over to slide into their back seat.

Pen immediately turned to me shouting, “ Puppies !”

So, I, in turn, answered back with, “ Kittens !”

Ant, used to our antics by now, just laughed at the both of us.

It took us about a half hour to reach the shelter that Pen and Ant wanted to adopt from. They zeroed in on the puppies as soon as we entered the cage room. Fur-babies! We played with them and loved on them—a little wet nose squishing against my cheek as he tried to give me puppy kisses. His tiny tail wagging a mile a minute. I heard a worker enter the cage room and turned to watch him unlock a different cage. He hooked a lead to a sweet, scruffy dog’s collar. That scruff captured my heart.

“Be back,” I said to Pen while handing the golden pup off to her, which made three squirming, playful babies in her lap, so I could go give some love to Scruff over there. The worker, a young guy in a shelter polo and khakis, let me approach the old boy and waited as I bent down to dole out some well-deserved ear scratches. “Who’s a good baby?” I asked in that playful voice that people tended to use with furry companions, and he pressed his head into my hand. Such a sweetheart.

“Getting a home?” I asked excitedly.

The worker shook his head. “’Fraid not. This is the end of the line for Georgie Boy.”

“ End of the line ?” I sort of shouted at the man. He had these deep-brown, imploring eyes—the dog, not the man. He looked like Sandy from the movie Annie . You know, the one with Carol Burnett as Miss Hannigan.

“Owners abandoned him. We need the room. People don’t want old dogs. It’s a sad fact of life. He’s a good boy.” The man bent down to scratch the sweet doggy under the chin. “Aren’t you, Georgie? I can’t have pets or I’d take him home with me. Got a one-year-old at home and he’s great with kids.” Then he tugged on the leash to get them moving. “C’mon, boy. You’ll be free soon enough.”

My heart sank, filling me with the urge to vomit. Georgie Boy couldn’t be put down. He was good with kids. He needed a home. Before I thought better of it, I shouted, “ Wait !”

The worker turned back to me.

“Let me spend some time with Georgie. I came here looking for a companion. I’d like to get to know him.”

The man smiled big and Georgie wagged his tail, like he knew how close he’d come to seeing the big dog house in the sky.

“Unhook him,” I said. I wanted to see if Georgie would come to me. The worker unhooked Georgie and the scruffy dog walked straight to me, rubbing his head against my leg. I squatted down to give him more ear scratches and he doggy-kissed my cheek in a surprise lick attack. I fell back on my bottom. “Do you want to come home with me, Georgie?”

I swore the sweet old boy knew exactly what I said as he wagged his tail again, this time with all the fervor of a stray who knew he’d found his forever home.

While Pen and Ant continued to contemplate which little one to bring into their family, I’d signed the papers, paid the money, and waited on the grass outside for them to finish their adoption process. Georgie Boy snuggled next to me on my lap.

“You’ll love the house, Georgie. It has a fenced-in yard and a covered swing for us to enjoy together.”

Before Georgie had the chance to give me his opinion on said housing arrangements, Ant and Pen emerged from the building walking a squirming little golden retriever puppy. He did this sort of prancy-waddle thing instead of walking.

“He’s a sweetheart,” I said.

“I know!” Pen gushed, like a proud doggy mom. “Poochie McCain.”

“We aren’t naming our firstborn Poochie,” Ant reprimanded.

“We are,” she countered. “Poochie Scuttle-Butt McCain.”

“His name is Louie.”

Pen’s face dropped.

“Louie Scuttle-Butt McCain?” Ant offered as a compromise, and Pen’s face lit up again.

“Louie Scuttle-Butt McCain,” she shouted, joyfully clapping her hands. And I saw the moment she registered Georgie Boy sitting next to me. “Who are you?” she asked him. He responded with a bark that sounded something like, “ George .” Pen shot her eyes to me and they were justifiably filled with confusion and wonder.

Smiling, I shook my head. “His name is Georgie Boy but apparently goes by ‘ George .’”

She threw her hand over her mouth, then she looked down at Louie. “Can you say Louie ?” But all he managed was a yip. Pen scooped the little guy up into her arms. “That’s okay. Mommy and Daddy still love you.”

“He’s very lovable,” I replied.

“I agree,” she said, then turning to Ant, “We’ll get him tutors.” Ant wrapped his arm around her waist indulgently drawing his little family in for a squeeze.

My friends were nuts. But I pushed up off the ground, dusting my backside off, and looked down at my sweet Georgie. “C’mon, buddy… Let’s go meet your cousin.”