Thankful for You by Cindy Spencer Pape Page A

tomorrow night?” She didn’t open the store on Sundays, so she wouldn’t have to work.
    Elsie shook her head, but shot him a lopsided grin. “No, but thank you for asking. Again .”
    Sig shrugged. He asked her every time he came in. And every single time, she shot him down. “Ah, well. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” It made sense, of course. He was still mostly a wreck. He didn’t have a job, his military career was over, and all he did with his days was work on his house, take care of his fish tank, and put in whatever hours his brother-in-law could throw him at the garage. Other than that, he read and watched old science fiction movies on TV, mostly because he still didn’t sleep very well. So why set himself up for continual rejection? Probably because she smiled whenever he asked and he liked to make her smile. That made it worth getting rebuffed twice a week. Hell, it was the closest thing to a social life he had these days. Might as well enjoy it.
    She snorted out a little laugh. It might have sounded coarse on a less impish-looking woman, but on her, it was cute. “I adore you for asking. But the answer is still the same. No . I have no interest in dating. Anyone.” She waved him toward the door. “Come back Wednesday. I’ll have those new clownfish I wanted to show you.”
    “Now that’s a date.” He swung toward the door, package in hand. “Have a good day off.”
    Elsie waved as he walked out the door. Ten feet from his car, Sig’s cell phone rang. He juggled his purchases to reach into his pocket and then leaned on the fender of his truck. “Hello?”
    “Hey, son, glad I caught you.” The gravelly voice made Sig wince. What the hell did the mayor want with him now? He’d already spoken to every civic group Haven could muster. His Honor went on. “Veteran’s Day is almost here. That means the parade and pancake breakfast at the VFW. The post would like you to be the guest of honor at the breakfast and the town council has chosen you to be grand marshal of the parade.”
    “Why me?” Crap, Sig hadn’t meant that to come out sounding as whiny as it had. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, Your Honor. I mean, I’ve already had my day in the sun. There are a lot of other decorated vets in the area. I’m sure one of them would be glad to do it. I’d be fine with that. Maybe share the wealth a little.”
    “Sergeant, you have no idea what an inspiration you are to the people of this community, do you?” Mayor Bradford asked.
    Sig sighed. “Honestly? No, sir. I don’t get it at all. Why on earth would you want someone in the parade whose face is enough to send kids screaming in the other direction?”
    “Because it shows those same kids that they can overcome whatever problems they might have,” the mayor said. “As an extra incentive, there’s a dinner following, a fundraiser for the Hero Family widows and orphans fund. You and a guest will be seated at the head table, of course. Tickets are selling like—erm—hotcakes, ever since someone leaked out that you might be the guest of honor.”
    Oh, fuck . How could he say no to the widows and orphans fund? He couldn’t. That’s what had gotten him into this mess to begin with. He’d been suckered into posing for a beefcake calendar to benefit the same cause. At least they’d shot the photo from his good side, so the worst of his facial scars didn’t show. But a fancy dinner? Not his favorite thing to do—especially when he’d be at the head table in front of everybody, and they’d all be staring at him, the one-eyed freak. “Look, I’ll have to think about it.”
    “Fair enough. I’ll give you a call first thing Monday morning. Remember, son, your community is counting on you.”
    Sig rolled his eyes at the mayor’s corny cheerfulness. Calling Sig son , when Lucas Lowery was no more than ten years older than Sig’s thirty-six.
    Once inside his truck and headed for home, Sig swore at his own sappy inability to say no. Hell,