“Actually, we have plans this evening,” I said quickly, threading my fingers through hers, anchoring her to me. “But we would love to come to Thursday night’s service.”
She squeezed my hand—once, tight—and I could feel the silent gratitude in it. The smallest thank you for the lifeline.
“Ya, Mel hasn’t seen her mom for months, so I was going to let them have some mother-daughter time tonight while I go to the restaurant and handle some administrative stuff I’ve been putting off.”
Sophia’s eyes darted to her mother. I didn’t know much about Italians, but I knew one thing from being around Olga—turning down food? Borderline sacrilegious. Still, if Bianca knew even half of what my mom was carrying, she’d understand. I hoped.
“Of course, well, you’ll have to come to Villa Ravenna and check out my son’s restaurant. Melanie and him have really turned that place around. I’m so proud of him.” Bianca rose up on her toes, stretching like she always did when she got affectionate, and cupped Nick’s face in her hands.
“Really, Mom?” Nick grumbled as she squished his cheeks like he was still ten years old.
“I’m your mother, which means you’ll always be my baby.”
“Ya and the biggest pain in her a—” Sophia started, before Bianca’s hand flew up and clamped over her daughter’s mouth.
“Non osare.” Don’t you dare. “Siamo nella casa del Signore.” We’re in the house of the Lord.
Sophia wriggled free, her voice thick with protest. “Mom,” she whined. “You’ll mess up my lipstick, and this is expensive.”
Bianca rolled her eyes, long-suffering and dramatic, like she lived for this chaos.
“And unlike your big baby, I don’t like being treated like one. I’m an adult and cut the umbilical cord years ago, unlike some of us.”
Nick didn’t miss a beat. He slung his arm around her neck and locked her into a headlock before she could squirm away. “Ya, well your big bro can still do this. How do you like that?”
Sophia shrieked, half-laughing, half-furious, as he ruffled her hair like a gremlin. The sound of them spinning in circles filled the churchyard, echoing off stone and stained glass like kids who never quite grew up.
“I’m going to kill you for this!”
Nick finally released her, breathless with laughter. Sophiawhipped around, her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, jaw clenched as she glared. Her hair was a wild mess of curls now, and Nick just grinned, puckering his lips and blowing her a taunting kiss.
“Love ya, sis.”
“You’re a dead man,” she growled, lunging—but Nick, fast as ever, ducked and darted off, her heels clicking furiously behind him.
“You two are a pain in my ass,” Bianca muttered, hot on their heels, waving her hand in the air. “Stop embarrassing me. I’m too old for this.” Her accent was thickening with every syllable.
I looked over at my mom, and we both finally let the laughter spill out, full-bodied and unguarded, like we’d been holding it in too long.
“Well, what did you think? Wasn’t so bad, eh, eh?” I nudged her gently with my shoulder.
“No, it wasn’t. But the priest didn’t have to be so stingy with the wine.”
And just like that, we were laughing again—loud, honest, the kind of laughter that didn’t fix anything but reminded me, for a second, that maybe we weren’t completely broken.
41
NICK
Colt’s living room is alive with Christmas morning’s warmth and cheer. Twinkling lights from the towering tree cast a cozy glow over the space, reflecting off shiny wrapping paper and scattered ribbons. The scent of fresh pine and cinnamon lingers in the air, blending with the rich aroma of coffee and hot cocoa.
Mel sits cross-legged on the floor beside me, surrounded by our family and friends, laughter and chatter filling the space. I leaned back against the couch, one arm draped casually over Mel’s shoulder as we watched Colt’s son excitedly rip open a brightly wrapped package, his squeals of delight making everyone chuckle.
“It’s a remote!” He looks up at Colt. “To what, though?” His tiny face scrunched up in confusion.
“I’ll show you, but you must promise to share it with Faye.”
“I promise! I promise! Tell me, tell me.” Bodie says, jumping up with joy. “You alright with that, Faye?” Colt turns his attention back to Faye. She nods, holding her new stuffed unicorn that my mom got her for Christmas. She looks to her mom, who gives her a slight nod, letting her know it’s okay.
