She’d do a little dreaming on Craigslist and Pinterest, of course, for decor ideas. Visualizing couldn’t hurt, could it?

Gloria rolled her shoulders and stretched. The kitchen still smelled like the cookies she’d baked earlier that morning. Baking had turned out to be surprisingly therapeutic. Every time she had a nightmare or someone gave her the “poor little” look or she started to panic about letting an entire town down, she erased it with sugar cookies and fruit cobblers.

She slipped a cookie off the tray and nibbled.

The doorbell rang, and she reluctantly closed her mother’s laptop.

“Harper! This is a nice surprise,” Gloria greeted the disheveled blonde on her front step. She leaned down to rough up Lola’s massive head. The pit bull was a charcoal-gray wrecking ball of muscle and love. Her tongue lolled out and swiped over Gloria’s entire face.

Max, the little three-legged something or other pranced, in and out of her knees until she picked him up. “Yes, I see you, too, Max! Can you come in or are you just passing by?” she asked.

Harper pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, and Gloria felt her heart trip up. Harper’s gray eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. “I actually have some news about Aldo,” she said, her voice tight.

Gloria felt the breath leave her body. No. Not Aldo.

“He’s hurt, Gloria,” Harper said, the words tumbling out of her. “He came through surgery, and the doctors are hopeful. They had to take part of his leg.”

Gloria closed her eyes as her vision swam. He was alive. That’s what mattered most. Aldo was alive. Max wriggled in her grasp and whimpered. She nuzzled him to her face.

“Aldo…” She couldn’t get anything else out. Her throat was closing up around a lump that might never go away.

Harper grabbed her arm. “He’s going to be okay. Luke emailed me this morning and said the surgery team’s only concern right now is infection.” She paused. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”

Her friend’s voice broke a little bit. Worry and fear in her eyes.

“But he will,” Gloria said with a certainty she didn’t know the origin of. But she was clinging to it. He would wake up, and he would come home.

“Yeah. He will,” Harper agreed. Tears filled her friend’s eyes.

“I emailed him Friday night after you gave me his address,” Gloria confessed on a shaky breath.

Harper bit her lip. “Then he’ll have something to read when he wakes up,” she decided. “So, speaking of Aldo, would you mind giving me and my two stinky mutts a ride to Mrs. Moretta’s house? I left my car there last night, and I wanted to check in on her.”

Mrs. Moretta? Meet Aldo Moretta’s mother? Gloria glanced down at her cutoffs and flour-spattered pink t-shirt. “Umm.”