Rachelle shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, someone could have been hurt. It seems too evil, even for them.”
Estelle’s thoughts stirred. She wondered if Albert had the answer to that, if he was involved in the sinister operation that had sliced Rachelle’s heart in two. Was she brave enough to ask him?
“Let me ask you this,” Estelle said. “Do you still want to marry Riccardo?”
Rachelle squeezed her eyes shut. “I thought I did? I mean, I do?” She laughed. “He’s my best friend. He’s basically my only friend. When Darcy and I stopped talking, Riccardo was the only one there for me. We’ve been living together for years. He’s my family. At least, I thought he was my family.”
Estelle remained quiet for a moment. Outside, night had fallen, casting them in the orange lights from the streetlamps.Rachelle looked terribly young in that light, as though she needed to get to bed and wake up for middle school tomorrow.
“I guess the answer is that I want to know the truth,” Rachelle offered finally. “Maybe my love for him doesn’t matter if he’s a liar. Because then, the love is a lie, too.”
Estelle closed her eyes. “Love is never a lie, honey.” She wanted to warn Rachelle that no matter what happened between her and Riccardo, no matter if they broke up and never saw one another again, Rachelle would still have to deal with the love she carried for him in her heart.
It still mattered that she loved him. Love always mattered.
“I’ve stopped understanding why,” Rachelle said suddenly.
Estelle didn’t know what she meant, not at first.
“I’ve stopped understanding why I moved away,” Rachelle offered. “I miss all of you. I miss Nantucket. My mom was right when she said the years are passing and we won’t be able to get them back. When Grandpa died, I could hardly look Darcy in the eye because everything hurt so bad. Oh, Grandma.” Rachelle cradled Estelle close. “I’m so sorry about Grandpa.”
Estelle felt a bubble of sorrow in her stomach. She realized she hadn’t been able to mourn Roland with Rachelle, and that mourning someone with another was always a different experience. “He loved you, my girl,” she said now.
“I loved him. So much,” Rachelle said, sniffing. “I hope he knew.”
“He knew,” Estelle said. “And he was so proud of his Italian superstar. His celebrity chef.” Estelle kissed Rachelle on the forehead, then watched as Rachelle’s eyelids fluttered closed.
Quickly, Estelle got up and went to the bathroom, where she texted Sam
ESTELLE: I found her. Actually, she found me, if you can believe it.
Sam called her back right away, but Estelle didn’t answer. She didn’t want Rachelle to wake up and overhear her talking about her. She didn’t want to scare her off.
ESTELLE: I’ll call you tomorrow. Suffice it to say, a lot is going on right now. Rachelle’s engagement might be off. I have a bit of digging to do.
20
Hours after Rachelle fell asleep in Estelle’s bed—on the side of the bed that Roland had previously occupied, although Estelle was sure Rachelle couldn’t have known that—Estelle put on lipstick, spritzed herself with perfume, and went downstairs to meet Albert. He was waiting for her just outside the hotel, wearing that same suit jacket, a glint in his eyes that spoke of how tremendously insane this all was. Estelle hugged him, and only then did she realize she was shaking.
“Shhh,” Albert said, hugging her tighter. “It’s going to be all right. Is she with you?”
Estelle nodded, then drew her head up to look him in the eye. “Thank you for sending her to me.”
“It was my pleasure,” Albert said. “She was drowning with my family. I could see that plain as anything from the moment I met her.”
Estelle was mystified. “When did you meet her?”
Albert glanced left, then right, as though there was a chance they were being followed. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
Estelle was always hungry in Italy. It felt like a cultural necessity. She followed Albert down the street, through an alley, and out onto another gorgeous piazza. Sometimes they held hands, but sometimes their hands slipped out of one another, as though they couldn’t decide what they wanted.
Albert knew the restaurant owner, and although they were fully booked, they were given a table in the very best part of the square. Albert ordered the finest wine, and Estelle and Albert clinked glasses. Estelle wondered if there was an air of finality about this meeting, as though they couldn’t carry on this way, not now that Rachelle was involved. She told herself to enjoy every second.
She felt like a girl with a crush. And how wonderful it was to have a crush! Most crushes never turned into anything.
“My family is in an uproar,” Albert said finally, tapping his fingernails on the table. “When Rachelle ran out and left us all—left the dinner, so dramatically—my niece Valeria burst into tears.”
“Valeria?”
