Excerpt of Glory Bishop by Deborah L. King

She was standing at a softly rumbling dryer, folding “mountain fresh” scented towels, when she heard the door opening behind her.

“Hello, Miss Glory.”

She continued folding, pretending not to hear.

“I said, hello, Miss Glory.”

She would not give that devil’s son the satisfaction of responding.

The door closed, and she hoped he’d gone, but then he was behind her… his arms around her waist… his lips touching her shoulder. “Remember the first time you let me kiss you? You said you’d be my wife.”

Glory shrugged off the kiss and tried to ignore him—tried not to notice his scent or relax in his arms. She tried not to respond to his voice… tried not to care.

His lips touched the back of her neck. “Remember the second time you let me kiss you? You said you’d be my girl.”

Glory deliberately brushed his kiss from her neck and moved to the washing machine, careful to keep her back to him.

“Oh… so it’s like that now, huh? No problem. I’ll just sit down and watch you work. I’ve got all night. And you know, I always did appreciate you from behind, too.”

Glory growled under her breath, taking her annoyance out on the wet towels she pulled from the washer. She heard him sigh loudly as he settled down on the old couch. She whispered a prayer for patience and strength. “Know what?” he asked. “I feel like singing.”

Glory continued her work and tried to ignore him as he flubbed his way through “Ribbon in the Sky” and “Isn’t She Lovely,” but when he started singing “Brick House,” she threw down the towel she was folding and gripped the edge of the table.

“Josiah Jackson, you leave me alone. Right now!”

“Oh… so you’re talking to me now, huh? I win big. I get to hear your pretty voice and look at your fine a—”

“No!” Glory turned to face him, arms folded, seething, channeling every bit of hurt and anger into a glare that she wished would burn him to cinders. “No. I’m not talking to you. I’m asking the devil to leave me alone! I’m asking Satan himself to leave me alone and never speak to me again.”

“Well,” he said, standing and moving toward her. “Your prayer is gonna be answered. I’m leaving for the navy tomorrow.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. That no-good lying two- timing devil smiled his smug smile—that I’m the finest boy in the world, and I know you agree smile. That I win smile.

Glory hated that smile. And she loved that smile. And all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling out.