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.