by Maggie Marr
He slammed the car door and hustled up the walk. The sun had long since slid below the horizon, the air had grown much colder, and wisps of his breath floated in the air. He pulled up his jacket collar, the fabric protecting the back of his neck from the wind. The staccato sounds of loud Korean came from the house next door. Arguing? Nope. Laughter followed. He hustled up Mrs. Bello’s front walk and the steps to the house. He’d climbed these steps so many times, his heart filled with love for Shelly. He’d still loved her when he’d seen her in Texas. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he knocked. But while he’d been trying to get Shelly into rehab in Texas, Anthony discovered that the girl he had loved was gone. And with her, the kid he’d been all those years before…that guy was gone too.
He rapped on the door. Usually the loud sounds of cable news greeted him on the front step, but today the house was quiet. Mrs. Bello spent most evenings listening to the TV and pretending to knit. He stamped his feet on the mat as he waited in the unusual stillness. Damn cold for December. Anthony plastered his best smile to his face and glanced down at the box in his hands as the door yanked open. After everything Mrs. Bello had endured, she deserved Anthony’s best smile and some holiday cheer. Warmth blasted from the house, along with the crooning sounds of Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas.”
“Hey, Mrs. Bello, I brought you—” Anthony looked up from the box.
His heart stopped. His jaw dropped open. The Carmine’s box wobbled in his hands. The one thing he had been nearly one hundred percent certain would never happen, the one thing that he’d spent the last five months managing Mrs. Bello’s expectations about, that one thing, Shelly Bello, stood just inside Mrs. Bello’s front door.
Shelly’s blue eyes, which Mrs. Bello blamed on her Irish great-great-grandmother, sparkled in the porch light. She was clean. Her shiny hair, a pale blondish color, settled over her shoulders in soft waves. Her skin was clear, the dark half-moons that had stained the skin beneath her eyes in Texas gone. Or nearly gone.
A deep breath.
Lavender and lemons. She smelled like the Shelly he remembered from long ago, not at all like the Shelly in Texas. Part of him wished he’d never seen her there, never been witness to the Shelly she had been in Texas. Strung out and desperate. That Shelly had smelled of booze and old nicotine, reeked of fear and scents he didn’t want to remember.
Guilt. A cold weight settled in his gut, because he hadn’t been able to save her in Texas. He’d tried and failed.
“Hey, Anthony.” Her voice was soft, with a tiny rasp heightened by years of cigarettes. “How you doin’?” Her chin dropped and her eyes skittered away from his. Still with the swan-like neck and the sharp chin. Her cheeks were fuller than the last time he’d seen her. Her hands rested at her sides, instead of nervously raking the flesh of her arms with grime-caked fingernails while she spoke as they had then.
“Shelly.”
This Shelly, the healthier version, much closer to the girl he’d fallen for in high school, ignited a heat that fired through his blood. She seemed somehow delicate now, though, nearly fragile. She’d been tough when they were kids. Did this fragility come from all those years of addiction? Or from her hard-won and achingly fresh sobriety? How long? Mrs. Bello had said six months. Of course, Anthony hadn’t believed her. He wouldn’t have believed it from Shelly herself, if he wasn’t seeing her right now, standing in front of him, beneath a strand of Christmas lights. “You look good.”
Her cheeks flushed, and those blue eyes that he’d spent his late teenage years staring into fluttered up and met his.
Again, heat swept through his body. Little electrical pulses danced across his skin. The warm scent of cinnamon and espresso jerked him back from losing himself in Shelly’s eyes.
“I brought these for your Nonna.” He held out the red box decorated with candy-cane-striped ribbon and a sprig of holly.
“Carmine’s.” Shelly took the box from him. Her rosy lips curved into a delicious smile. “I love Carmine’s.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Please tell me there are cannoli in here. As much as I love Nonna, the woman cannot make a cannoli.”
Anthony lifted his brow and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “There are cannoli in that box.”
Shelly closed her eyes and licked her lips.
Every muscle in Anthony’s body tightened. Shelly had no idea the impact she had on him. Closed eyes. Her tongue on her lips. A look of near-euphoria on her face…a look he remembered from long long ago.
“Shelly, let Anthony in, he’ll freeze!”
Shelly’s eyes flashed open. Anthony stepped up and nearly filled the doorway. His body brushed by Shelly’s in the narrow entryway. He looked down at her, catching her gaze. There, in her eyes, he could see she too felt the heat that remained between them. Heat that sizzled like a live wire ready to burst into flame. She stepped away and toward the kitchen.
No. He hardened his heart, set his jaw. No matter what he felt, this woman, this Shelly, wasn’t the love from his youth. He’d seen what she’d become in Texas, and while now she might look like the girl he’d once loved, he couldn’t forget the ghost with the dark, ringed eyes and a craving so great she’d even tried to steal from him.
“Anthony, did you see my Shelly is back? And just in time for Christmas.” Mrs. Bello lifted her arms to take Anthony’s jacket. He shrugged it off into her hands, knowing better than to fight her.
“I did.” He glanced at Shelly, and her blue eyes flicked down toward the floor.
“So healthy, my girl.” Mrs. Bello turned with Anthony’s coat over her arm to grasp Shelly’s cheek with her fingers, giving it a loving pinch. “Carmine’s? Oh, Anthony, you brought us Carmine’s? Shelly loves that bakery. Go sit. I’ll get some plates. They have good cannoli.” She handed Anthony’s coat to Shelly and took the box. “Nothing like mine, of course, but good.” Mrs. Bello walked to the kitchen.
Shelly lifted an eyebrow and flashed a smile toward Anthony as she hung his coat in the closet. It would be their secret from Mrs. Bello that her cannoli weren’t actually very good.
“Sit.” Shelly nodded toward the living room couch. “I’ll help Nonna.”
Anthony did as he was told. For the first time in a lot of years, he felt like a visitor in Mrs. Bello’s home, instead of a regular who stopped by at least once a week to make certain she was well and had everything she needed. He scrubbed his hands over his jaw. Was it him or Shelly’s presence that made him feel awkward in his own skin?
Shelly. The discomfort was definitely caused by Shelly. Anthony did not welcome surprises, nor was he fond of change. His gaze skimmed the walls and passed over the multitude of pictures he’d seen so many times that he hardly noticed them. There were Shelly and Vincent as small children. Then each of them in cap and gown, graduating high school. Finally, Vincent in his Marine uniform and Shelly smiling under a sign reading Fordham University, starting her final year of college. After that there were no more pictures. An abrupt end to a visual story. For the Bello family, there hadn’t been any reason to take pictures after Vincent had died.
“Here we are.” Mrs. Bello walked slowly into the room. Shelly patiently trailed her with a Christmas platter decorated with painted candy canes, plus three cafe cups. Anthony jumped up and took the tray from Shelly. His hands brushed against her wrist.
A thrill heated his blood. Their eyes met. Damn. Not what he wanted. He had neither the time nor patience to have any feelings for Shelly. She would never again be the woman for him. She was damaged beyond repair.
“Thank you,” Shelly said softly. She retreated as if burned. A timidity flashed over her face, and she sank into the chair farthest from the couch where Mrs. Bello slowly seated herself. Mrs. Bello reached up and pulled at Anthony’s arm.
“Sit. Sit. So lovely to have both of you home.”
Shelly leaned forward and placed a cannoli on each plate. Mrs. Bello handed him a tiny cafe cup. “She got home around four today, the f
light was on time. No problems. Right, Shelly?”
Shelly nodded. Her untouched cannoli lay on her plate. Her gaze flitted about the room. Distraction traipsed over her face as though she’d just remembered something, such as a stove left on or a curling iron left plugged in.
“Excuse me.” She slipped from her chair and was up the stairs and out of sight in an instant.
Anthony hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but with a long sigh the tension in his shoulders and chest drained away. The heat he had felt slowly faded. His gaze, however, remained fixed to the staircase where Shelly had disappeared. Was she still using? Perhaps she wasn’t nearly as healthy as Mrs. Bello hoped. She couldn’t stay here if she was still an addict, he wouldn’t allow it. Mrs. Bello did not need her granddaughter stealing and doping and breaking her heart.
“She’s been a little weepy since she got in,” Mrs. Bello said. “I mean she hasn’t been home since the funeral and, well, my sister says it’s to be expected. A big trip for our Shelly, isn’t it Anthony?”
Our Shelly.
Anthony reined in the words on the tip of his tongue, and instead simply nodded and sipped his cafe. She was no longer our Shelly, he wanted to say. She was merely Mrs. Bello’s granddaughter. The promise Anthony had given to Vincent before he’d left for Iraq hadn’t extended to Shelly. And even if it had, he’d done everything he could in Texas to save Shelly. She hadn’t wanted his help. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with him.
“How long is she home for?”
“I wish forever,” Mrs. Bello said, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “But her return flight is the day after Christmas.”
“That’s not very long.”
“She’s got a job, and Pat says a nice little apartment not far from the convent. I’m guessing she can’t be away for long.”
Hmm. He wondered what kind of job a former addict could find. When he’d seen Shelly in Texas she’d yet to be busted for anything, because though she might be a horrible addict, she was also smart. Was her criminal record still clear? He doubted it. A person didn’t go through the years of addiction Shelly had weathered without getting pinched at least once.
“You’ll all come to dinner here and mass on Christmas Eve. Won’t it be lovely?”
Anthony coughed. For the last five years, the Travati brothers had spent both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with Mrs. Bello. They didn’t have any family remaining, nor did Mrs. Bello, aside from her sister Pat, and also Shelly, who’d been MIA. The Travati brothers and Mrs. Bello had cobbled together their own traditions and pieced together a family.
“Aubrey called me today,” Mrs. Bello said. “She invited both Shelly and me to the Teddy Bear Luncheon.”
“Of course she did.” Justin’s wife was nothing if not sly.
“Her sister and father are coming in from Kansas.”
“Excellent.” The muscle in his jaw flinched. Anthony pulled at his cuffs. He had little tolerance for his sister-in-law’s family.
“You don’t like Aubrey,” Mrs. Bello said.
“That isn’t true. I was just surprised…caught off guard by what happened last summer.”
“That was six months ago. Besides, I’m certain you must have checked the results of the DNA test by now.”
A flush heated his cheeks. How could Mrs. Bello know he’d demanded that Max, Aubrey’s son, be tested to ensure that he was in fact the Travati heir?
Mrs. Bello smiled at his guilty expression. “You’re not the only Travati who talks to me. Granted, you’re the only one who comes and brings me cannoli, but the others…they call.”
Call? Which of his brothers called? As though it mattered. He had no patience for his brothers’ judgment of him anymore. Both Leo and Devon were content to sit back and let Justin run Travati Financial, but Anthony was finished taking orders. He’d already laid the groundwork to begin his own investment company with his meeting at Carmine’s today.
“I should go.” Anthony folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate.
“But you’ve barely spoken to Shelly.”
“I’ll see her soon.” Anthony forced a smile to his face. “I’m excited to hear about her job, her place, her life.” His lies seemed to appease Mrs. Bello. What he truly wanted was to put Shelly back on a plane now, tonight.
She was trouble. Trouble with azure blue eyes and white-blonde hair. She might be clean, she might be drug-free and employed…but then again, she might not. Wasn’t that the curse of the addict? Always one step from falling off the wagon? Well, he wasn’t going to attempt to help her out of the muck if she fell this time. He wouldn’t follow her into the abyss, and he definitely wouldn’t allow Shelly to drag down Mrs. Bello too.
“Thank you.” Anthony bent down and pressed a kiss to each of Mrs. Bello’s soft cheeks. She smelled of powder and talc with hints of espresso. “You’ll tell Shelly good night and thank you for me?”
“Of course. We’ll see you soon.” Mrs. Bello started to rise and he squeezed her arm.
“Don’t get up. Finish your espresso and cannoli.”
Anthony pulled his jacket from the closet, put it on, and headed out the front door. The cold air, sharp as glass, sliced his skin. He shook his head and walked down the front steps. Let the chill bite him and cool the remnants of heat that still pulsed through his body. The desire for a woman he wanted nothing to do with. As his foot hit the front sidewalk, the glimmer of red Christmas lights reflected on blonde hair caught his peripheral vision.
Shelly.
His gut tightened and an all-too-familiar thrill warmed his blood. Smoke rings caught the light and drifted up toward the flashing lights. He turned to look directly at her. Shelly stood at the corner of the house, in the shadows.
“Caught me.” She tossed the cigarette to the ground and rubbed it out with the tip of her boot. Her gaze caught his. “Old habits die hard.”
The muscle in his jaw tightened. “All old habits?”
Her eyes seemed to harden with his inquiry. She walked toward him. With each step, heat built in his gut. No, this wasn’t the Shelly of Texas, nor was she the Shelly of his youth. This creature was something new, someone unknown to him, and yet she created the same heat, the same desire, the same damned need within his body as the Shelly he’d fallen deeply in love with so long ago. She stirred something else, too. Her eyes were harder, edged with a what seemed to be a hard-won knowledge. He wondered if that knowing gaze came from a deep understanding of herself or of the depravity of human nature.
She stood before him now. Not too much shorter than him, but just enough. His chest tightened. Her skin was once again healthy and nearly flawless. As she turned her face to him, a glow from the moon outlined her features, and the blinking Christmas lights tinted her face first red, then green.
How many times had he stood in this exact spot and kissed Shelly Bello good night? Pulled her body against his and slid an arm around that tiny waist. Felt the press of her breasts, her hips, against him. More times than he could count, more times than he wanted to remember. Her body would still fit his, and his body still wanted hers.
“The worst habits are the hardest to break.” Her words were laced with innuendo.
“As long as they’re broken.”
Anger flashed in her eyes.
He glanced past her. His gaze hovered above her head, directed down the street toward the corner where his childhood home sat. “Your Nonna would be heartbroken if they weren’t.”
“I wouldn’t come home unless I was clean.”
His gaze landed back onto her. She didn’t shrink from his look. He’d seen her in Texas. He knew how bad she’d been, he’d tried to save her, and she’d run, unwilling to be saved. “That’d be too much for her.”
Shelly nodded. Her tongue trailed over her full bottom lip. “I’m not the girl you saw in Texas,” she said, as though reading his mind.
“No,” Anthony shook his head. “I can see that. But you’re also not the girl I used to lov
e, either.” He took a step closer, crowding her, wanting a reaction to his blunt challenge. She didn’t move, didn’t flinch, seemed unfazed by him. “I’ve taken care of your grandmother for a lot of years. Do not hurt her. Are we clear?”
Again anger flared in her eyes. But this time, it wasn’t a flash. Instead, a hardness remained in her steady gaze. “Don’t threaten me,” Shelly said. “She’s my grandmother.”
“That’s exactly right. She’s Vinnie’s grandmother too.”
With the mention of her brother’s name, Shelly’s bravado collapsed. The anger in her eyes turned to pain.
“I made a promise to him.” Anthony tilted his head. “Actually, we both did. Or did you forget?”
Shelly shook her head. “I never forgot.” Her gaze locked with his, a sadness in her eyes. “Even when I didn’t want to remember.”
An ache clutched his heart. Anthony clasped his hands into fists at his sides, for fear he’d grab Shelly and try to kiss away her pain.
“That night was amazing.” She remembered that night too, the last night they’d seen Vinnie, the night they’d promised to take care of Nonna, to take care of each other. A good night. A sad night. But a night filled with memories to which they both clung.
“A long time ago.”
“A lifetime.” Shelly took a deep breath. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I need to go.” She stepped back from him, then turned and bolted up the steps. The front door slammed against the cold air.
A lifetime ago. A hard unforgiving lifetime.
