by Lori Ryan
Lina laughed. “It’s what his daughter calls him.”
“Not father?” Nonna’s tone told them what she thought of a daughter calling her father by his first name.
“It’s a long story, Nonna. And one of a hundred reasons why I don’t care how he looks at me.” Lina wrapped a lock of hair around her finger and stared down.
“Liar!” Gia shouted, pointing her half-eaten carduni at Lina.
Lina jumped. “What?”
“You’re playing with your hair.”
Lina dropped her hand. “So?”
“So,” Gina said, “you always do that when you lie.”
“I do not.”
“Do too,” Gia said. “Maybe you should cut it all off so no one can use your tell against you.”
“Diavolo, no!” Nonna shouted.
“Nonna,” Gia laughed, “you said a bad word.”
Lina rubbed her grandmother’s back. “I’m not going to cut my hair, Nonna.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Gia said. “You like Jake. I mean, who can blame you? I saw him at Strange Brew earlier this morning. He’s seriously hot.” She grabbed a nearby dishtowel and fanned herself. “Not as hot as Cam Delgado, but still.” Gia waggled her brows.
Nonna stared up at Lina with a knowing look. “I told your mammá to stop at two babies, but she had to go and have this one.” She nodded toward Gia. “And then another one after that.” Nonna groaned something in Italian and shook her head.
Gia snorted. “Good thing she had me.” She grabbed the spoon from Nonna’s hand and bumped her out of the way, tending to the pot on the stove. “None of these other bambinas knows how to cook.”
“True.” Nonna nodded. “I fear I have failed my ancestors.” She laughed. The infectious sound echoed through the small kitchen and soon all three women were laughing.
“No greater sound,” Lina’s father said, walking into the kitchen, a hand on his heart. “All my girls, together, laughing.”
They turned and stared at her father. Lina was the tallest of their family, standing several inches above her own father, but his small stature was no less intimidating. Today his face was bright, his smile almost as big as his Italian nose.
“That’s because Nat’s not here, Dad,” Gia called over her shoulder.
It was true, Natalia, their youngest sister, did tend to rile things up.
“Hello, piccola,” her father said, pulling Lina’s face down to press a kiss onto her cheek.
Gia snorted. “Piccola, Dad? Really?”
“What,” he said, pinching Lina’s cheek. “She is my little one.”
“She’s taller than you, Antonio,” Lina’s mother said behind them. She’d changed her shirt but her mouth was still pressed together and Lina could tell she wasn’t finished lecturing her.
They all turned at the sound of the matriarch entering the room. Yes, Nonna was the quiet leader and her father was a force-to-be-reckoned with in the Bianchi family, but to Lina and her sisters, the real power of the family lay with Giovana Dante Rossi Bianchi. La madre. The mother. Their mother.
“Oh, that hair, Angelina,” her mother said, wrapping her hands around the blue tips. “I guess I should be thankful it’s not hot pink this time.”
“Her hair color changes with her moods,” Gia said.
“What does blue say?” Her mother asked.
“Confidence,” Gia said.
“Loyalty,” Frannie added.
“Love,” her nonna said, speaking above them all.
Four sets of eyes stared up at Lina.
“Love?” her father said as if the word was mud in his mouth.
“What?” Lina lurched back, staring down at her grandmother. “It doesn’t mean anything.” She jerked her hair from her mother’s hold and tossed it over her shoulder. “When is dinner going to be ready?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Big plans?” Gia asked, arching a brow.
“Oh, yeah, major plans. I’m the bingo caller at Wellspring tonight.”
“The personal care home?” Frannie said. “You still volunteer there?”
Lina’s mother cut her a glance.
Volunteering had been penance for Lina when she’d first moved to Colorado, a way to get back in her mother’s good graces. But well after the “punishment” was paid, Lina still found time to volunteer in this community that had loved her unconditionally, warts and all.
“I’ll be there before long,” Nonna said.
“Nonsense, Mammá,” her father slipped an arm around his mother-in-law and kissed her gently on the head. “You’ll always stay with me.”
“Hey, Nonna,” Gia called out, “Lina says sometimes her roommates volunteer there, too. Gets all the old ladies hot and bothered.” She giggled.
Their mother swatted her behind. “For God’s sake, Gia, you shouldn’t say things like that to your elders.”
“I wouldn’t mind a sponge bath by Dakota,” their grandmother said.
“Uggh,” Lina groaned rubbing at her eyes as though that might take the image out of her head.
“Hell yeah.” Gia held her hand up to their grandmother for a high five.
“Mammá!” Lina’s mother shrieked, yanking down Gia’s arm. She turned her deadly gaze on Lina. “I blame you for this.”
Lina didn’t have to ask what this was. Her mother blamed Lina anytime her sisters showed the least bit of rebellion or disrespect. Lina had been responsible for her sisters for longer than her memory went back. And as a teenager, she hadn’t done the best job at setting an example for them.
Thankfully, all three sisters were miles away from home now so she wasn’t responsible for them anymore. Except on Sunday afternoons when the whole family came home to visit. Lina couldn’t help but think maybe she should have run off a long time ago, too.
“It’s such a good thing you do, sweetheart,” her father said, slipping an arm around Lina’s waist. “This town is lucky to have you. And so are we.” He pulled her in tight and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Oh,” he said, scooting away from her and staring down at her pocket.
Her phone buzzed inside. “Sorry.”
“Hot date?” Frannie said, pulling out two loaves of bread from the oven.
“Yeah, with two elderly men at Wellspring.” Lina laughed.
“Are they single?” Nonna asked.
Lina’s mother glared at Nonna, and Lina was thankful she wasn’t the only one who could garner that kind of look from her mother.
“What? I’m old,” Nonna said, “not dead.”
Lina tugged her phone free. She didn’t recognize the California area code. Maybe it was her sister.
Her heart squeezed with fear. Natalia was a talented painter but not always the brightest bulb on the tree. It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart, she just got lost in her own world, like Lina did sometimes. They all worried about her when she got sucked into her work and didn’t pay attention to the real world.
Lina pushed her way out of the kitchen and walked down the hallway for some privacy.
“Who is it?” Frannie called behind her.
“Hello,” she said quietly.
“Lina?” Jake said on the other end, his voice shaky and a little desperate.
“Jake, what’s wrong?”
“It’s my mom and aunt, they were in a car accident.”
“Oh, my God.” Lina sucked in a breath, covering her mouth. “Are they all right?”
“We’re not one hundred percent sure. They were leaving Denver on their way home and were involved in a pileup on interstate 70.”
And they wanted to increase the lanes through Canyon Creek, Lina thought but pressed her lips tight around the thought. It wasn’t at all what Jake needed to hear.
“My mom said they’re okay,” he continued, a bit frantic, “but her cell phone cut off before we could get more details. And Aunt Sally isn’t answering hers. Mr. Rutherford has a helicopter and he’s offered to fly my brothers and me to Denver. Everyone e
lse here is going to drive.”
Lina knew Alan Rutherford. He was a nice man, in his mid- to late fifties. He owned a sprawling ranch on the outskirts of town.
“We just,” he paused and Lina could feel the fear in his silence. “We need to get there as soon as we can and find out how bad it is.” His voice was so strained and broken, Lina almost cried herself.
“Of course, go. I’m sure they’re fine though. Sally is pretty tough.”
“I need a favor.”
“Anything,” she said. And she meant it. Lina was used to offering help freely, but with Jake, she found she wanted to be there more so than ever. She wanted to play some part in bringing him comfort.
“Could you watch Becca for us? I don’t think it’s good for her to go.”
“Of course, I will,” she said.
“It will probably be overnight. Is that okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine, Jake, don’t worry. You just take care of your family. I’m on my way.”
“Thank you so much, Lina.” The relief in his voice surprised her. Had he really thought she wouldn’t take Becca?
“I’ll come pick her up,” she said.
“Can I have Maggie and Elle drop her off at your place when they leave town? Probably in the next thirty minutes or so. Is that all right?”
“Um,” she glanced down at her watch. “Sure. Okay.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. Are you on a date?”
Date? Lina laughed. It was just barely after one in the afternoon. “No, I’m at my parents for Sunday dinner. Could they maybe drop her off here?”
“It’s okay, let me call some other people. I don’t want to mess up your day with your family.”
“Jake,” she stopped him, “it’s fine. I’d love to watch her. I’ll text Maggie and let her know where I am. You guys just go. Don’t worry about Becca. I’ll keep her safe.”
A commotion at the end of the hallway had Lina glancing up. Her entire family stood, slack jawed staring at her.
“Thank you so much, Lina. It’s just…” she heard the desperation and pain in his voice. The poor man had just lost his father less than a year ago and now this.
She turned her back on her family, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “Jake, your mother’s fine. Sally is fine. But just in case, I’ll have Nonna lift up some prayers in Italian. She says God understands Italian better.”
Jake let out a humorless laugh. “Okay, thanks. That would be good.”
“I’ll text you once Becca gets here. Don’t worry about her. Just take care of your mom and Sally, okay?”
“Okay,” he said quietly and it broke her heart. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she said, and meant it.
“I’ll call you as soon as we find out more.”
“That sounds good. Tell Becca to pack Beauty and the Beast. I don’t think my nonna has seen it before.”
“Your poor nonna.” He chuckled.
“She has four girls, thirteen granddaughters, and one great-granddaughter on the way. She’s used to girly stuff.”
“Thanks, Lina. I’ll call you when we get there.”
“Jake,” she paused.
“Yeah,”
There was so much she wanted to say but didn’t know how, especially with her family listening. “I know a little Italian too, I’ll lift up some prayers of my own for you all.”
“Okay,” he said. “Ciao, bella.”
“Ciao, bella?” She laughed. “You speak Italian?”
“Just the dirty words.”
She laughed. “Ciao, bello. Call me when you find out more.”
“How do you say thank you?”
“Grazie,” she said.
“Grazie, Lina.”
“Prego,” she said.
“Isn’t that spaghetti sauce?” he asked.
She laughed. “According to Nonna, jarred spaghetti sauce is schifo.”
“What’s that?”
“Disgusting. She also says it’s mi fa cagare, which means literally, it makes her poop.”
He laughed. “I’m kind of half way in love with your grandma already.”
Lina glanced over her shoulder.
Nonna had a knowing grin on her face. The feeling was more than likely mutual but she didn’t want to tell Jake that.
“Thanks again,” he said. “I’ll have Maggie drop Becca off soon. She’s really upset.”
“I’ll keep her mind on other things, don’t worry.”
“Thanks.”
“Figuratti,” she said. “Anytime.” She bit back her lip to keep from adding on a term of endearment. “Be safe. And call me as soon as you know more.”
“Will do, Lina. Thanks.”
She pulled the phone away and stared down at the blank screen, more than a little worried for Jake and his family.
“Is everything all right?” her mother asked, stepping up beside her.
“Valerie and Sally Sumner were in a multiple car accident outside of Denver.”
“Oh, no,” everyone gasped.
“Are they okay?” Her father asked.
“Jake’s not sure. Mr. Rutherford is flying him and his brothers to Denver on his helicopter. Maggie, and the girls are going to drive. They’re going to drop off Jake’s daughter, Becca for me to watch.”
“Is that a good idea?” her mother asked.
She stared down at her mother in confusion. “Why would that not be a good idea?”
“Come,” Nonna pulled on her hand, “we’ll add one more plate to the table. Everyone will be fine.” Her grandmother made the sign of the cross. “I already lifted up prayers to il nostro santo padre.” She kissed her fingertips and lifted her hand and her eyes to the ceiling.
“Please don’t teach the poor girl how to pray the rosary in Italian like you did us, Nonna,” Gia said.
Nonna mumbled incoherent Italian under her breath and Lina was pretty sure several of them were curse words. It was a good thing Becca didn’t know Italian. She could have made a lot of money off Nonna Bianchi.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake walked up to Lina’s door, dead on his feet. Glancing down at his phone he realized it was just after midnight. She’d told him to go home when he’d called earlier, that Becca could spend the night with her, but something in his heart ached at the thought of not being with Becca tonight. Especially tonight.
After the scare his mother and Aunt Sally had given him and his brothers, Jake needed the comfort of his daughter. Such an oddity, he thought.
He knocked softly on the door, not wanting to wake Becca.
Lina answered the door almost immediately, dressed in flannel pants and a baggy T-shirt. Two calico cats danced around her feet, but when he stepped toward her, they both turned tail and ran into the depths of the house.
Even though he was dog-tired and worn thin, just the sight of her in her messy attire stirred something inside him.
“Hey,” she said quietly, extending a hand and grabbing his arm, pulling him inside. “You look like hell.”
He laughed. “Thanks.”
“Sorry,” she said, closing the door. “Italian mouth, remember,” she pointed to her lips.
He’d stared at her mouth for too long, he realized, when she cleared her throat.
“You hungry?” she asked. “Thirsty? I brought leftovers from my parents’ house.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t eat now if he had to.
“So your mom and Aunt Sally are okay?” she asked.
“My mom thankfully walked away without a scratch. But Aunt Sally wasn’t so lucky. She needed some stitches and she’s got a concussion, but she’ll be okay.”
“I saw a little on the news but I tried not to watch it. I didn’t want to upset Becca any more than she was.”
“It was a multiple car accident on I-70 about ten miles outside of Denver. They’re blaming weather conditions. A small sedan slid out of control and caused a chain reaction that included a semi-trailer.”
“Oh, my gosh
,” Lina said, guiding him to the couch and motioning for him to sit. “Were there other injuries, to the other victims?”
All he could do was nod. An elderly couple had died when the 18-wheeler crashed into the back of them, unable to stop soon enough to avoid the collision, but he didn’t want to talk about that. It just reminded him of how vulnerable they all were—him, his mother…Becca. He’d only known her a short time but already the thought of losing his daughter made him sick to his stomach.
“Hey.” Lina brushed her hand over his shoulder. “They’re okay.”
He nodded and stared down at the coffee table. The surface was littered with children’s books, crayons, markers, and papers. Each was covered with drawings that had been furiously colored as, he knew from experience, only Becca could do. He smiled for the first time since he and his brothers had received the call about the accident earlier that day.
“She had fun with you,” he said, staring down at the table. It was a statement. He knew Lina would take Becca’s mind off her aunt and grandmother being injured, that’s why he’d called her. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised by the fear and anxiety that hit Becca when she heard the news of his mom’s accident. Obviously, the crash had triggered emotions and memories in her he couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“We had a good time,” Lina said. “Thanks for calling me.”
He lifted his head and studied her. “Why are you thanking me? I need to thank you.”
“Becca and I talked a little, about her mother.”
“Oh,” he sighed. “What did she say?”
“That she missed her. A lot. And that she was worried about Valerie and Sally and didn’t want them to die.”
Jake fell back onto the couch with a groan, scrubbing a hand through his thick hair. “God, I have no idea what I’m doing here, Lina.”
She ran her hand across his shoulder and up around his neck, squeezing. “You’re doing an amazing job, Jake. You’re here, you’re present, that’s the most important thing for Becca right now.”
He turned his head and stared at her. She was so genuine, so honest so…
Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, his hand pressing against her thigh. He moved closer, his mouth a breath away from hers. Her sweet scent washed over him. He didn’t know what it was—flowers or berries, who knew—but it pulled him in, tantalizing and teasing as it filled his senses.
