“Thanks.” He gently moved forward. She had to give him credit. He was a cautious driver. As he navigated the mostly empty city streets, finally turning off on a more rural sort of road, she studied him. He was definitely good-looking. With his thick, wavy hair and dark eyes, he appeared to take after the Italian side of the family. She’d only met her maternal grandfather once. She’d been four years old when Mom had taken her to visit Poppy Banducci, as Mom had told her to call him. They’d taken a train somewhere back East, but all Carol really remembered was a big, dirty city and having to climb stairs up to an apartment that was too hot and smelled strange. All to see the white-haired old man who never budged from his recliner, held an unlit pipe, and kept telling her to “speak up!”
She glanced at Victor again, wondering if he’d ever met Poppy Banducci. But unless she was mistaken, her cousin wasn’t much older than her ... or he was aging well. So his experience with Poppy, if he’d had any, was probably similar to hers. Even so, for the sake of conversation, she was about to ask when he spoke up.
“I was pretty surprised to hear Maria has a niece.”
Carol felt her brows arch. “That’s what you call her? Maria?”
He shrugged. “We’re pretty informal around here. I could call her Mrs. O’Harney, but I doubt she’d like that much.”
“No, I guess not. I just assumed you’d call herMom. I tried calling my mom by her first name once when I was a teenager, because she was, well, let’s just say she’s never been terribly maternal. But when I called her Rosa, I thought she was going to knock me down.”
He raised his brows. “Did your mom hit you?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, but she had quite a temper.”
He laughed. “My mom is hot-tempered too, but she mostly just yelled when I was a kid. I guess it comes with being Italian.”
“That’s what my dad used to say about my mom. Probably not very PC, but he called it her hot Italian blood. Her temper was one of the reasons they split. Just one of many.”
“Your parents divorced?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I was just a kid so it was a long time ago. I don’t think I was scarred too much by it.” She forced a laugh. “I’m not seeing a therapist or anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That I’m not seeing a therapist?” she teased.
Now he laughed, making the edges of his eyes crinkle in an attractive way. Maybe he was older than she’d guessed. Well, if first impressions were true, and she knew from experience that a person could be fooled, Victor was a good guy. And perhaps this unplanned visit with relatives would turn out better than expected. Any port in a storm, right?
3
“I meant I was sorry that your parents split up,” Victor clarified as they came into a small town. Like everything else, the quiet-looking main street was covered in snow. As she took in what little she could see, she wondered how much farther they had to go or how long this storm would last. But the flag flapping by the post office was fully extended and whipping so hard, she had no doubt it was still blowing out there.
Forcing herself to remember what their conversation was about, she thanked him for his empathy. “My parents were really better off after the divorce. Their fights were less toxic, although I still found myself in the middle a good bit.” She sighed.
“Kids usually pay the highest price. A lot of my college friends had divorced parents. Even as adults, it’s not easy. And yet about half of marriages fail.”
“I sometimes think that’s why so many people our age aren’t marrying. It’s too risky.”
“I suppose it is. For some folks, anyway.”
“I’m guessing your parents have been together a long time.”
“For sure. They’ll hit the big fifty next year.” He slowly shook his head “Well, if Dad makes it that long.”
“Oh, dear. Is he ill?”
“Alzheimer’s. He’s had it for a while, but the past year has been a little touch and go so you never know.” He explained a bit more about his dad’s medical issues.
“I’m sorry. Your poor mom. That must be hard on her.” Carol was having serious regrets visiting her aunt and uncle now. Maybe it really was bad timing.
“That’s why I moved home,” he said. “I’ve been back a few years now to help out. Our farm isn’t big, and we cut way back on livestock, but it still takes a fair amount of maintenance.”
“Maybe this was a bad time for me to pop in unexpected.” She suddenly imagined how overwhelmed her aunt could be feeling right now. Ailing husband, blizzard blowing, farm responsibilities, holidays ... Why hadn’t Carol thought this through better? She blamed it on a lack of sleep and cold feet. “Maria assured me she has room, but it sounds like she might have enough on her plate right—”
“Don’t worry about Maria. She sounded excited to see you when she called.” He frowned slightly. “Although she did mention bad timing. But I figured she meant with Christmas next week. Her decorations are always way over the top ... and she’s usually in charge of the town’s Christmas Cotillion. It’s a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity. Anyway, the cotillion happens this weekend so maybe she’s feeling overwhelmed.” He shook his head. “Plus, she’s been a little blue this Christmas, which is understandable.”
“You mean because of your father’s condition?”
