SIXTY-ONE

AS Hunter and I returned to the hospital room, Sophia was slipping into the flats I’d swapped with her last evening.

“Your friend Clare is here,” he announced. “She’s brought you something special.”

Sophia jumped up and hugged me tightly.

“I’m also returning your jewelry,” I said as I returned the hug. “It’s here with your beautiful handbag and your designer heels—”

“Please, keep the bag and shoes,” Sophia said, “if you’ll let me keep your flats. They’re the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever worn!”

I smiled. “Absolutely, keep my shoes as a gift. But you must take back yours. It’s not even close to a fair trade—”

“I received them gratis, Clare. I have two more pairs at home, ditto for the designer bag. I get so many freebies and deals with my work in the fashion trade. Please keep them. I insist!”

“Well, if you insist.” I leaned close. “I know my new fiancé will be happy.”

“Do tell?”

At my slight blush, she smiled. “You know, the rubies I lent you to wear may have helped in that department.” As she spoke, she unwrapped her jewelry from my silk scarf and lifted one of the earrings up to the light. “Look at the brilliance of that red, a magnificent stone with intense energy. Historically, many cultures believed it gave the wearer confidence and power. It’s also the stone of passion—a gemological aphrodisiac.”

“Really?”

“The ruby’s glowing red hue is said to ignite an inextinguishable flame between couples, inspiring great and long-lasting love . . .”

With care, she transferred her necklace and bracelet into a safe pocket of her handbag on the couch. When she returned, she still held the earrings. To my shock, she presented them to me.

“Keep these, Clare. They look amazing on you.” She held them up to my ears. “They even bring out the red in your chestnut hair.”

“That’s incredibly generous, but I can’t possibly—”

“Please accept them—as an engagement present.” She wrapped the earrings back up in my scarf and pressed them into my hands. “Now let’s sit . . .”

Over slices of my iced pumpkin bread and paper cups of coffee from my thermos, we discussed Gus’s condition. Hunter declined sampling my Winter’s Dawn blend, sipping fruit juice instead, though he clearly enjoyed the bread, eating three pieces in a row.

“Too bad you missed Perla,” Sophia said, nibbling on her first slice. “She brought that ambient music box in hopes that Dad can hear it. It’s very pleasant, but I’m afraid the forest sounds put me right to sleep.”

“That or the song I heard Hunter singing to you.”

Sophia nodded, her face glowing with love for her husband. “It’s a Swedish lullaby. Hunter learned it from his mother. When we were first married, he sang that song to me nearly every night. But I haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s called ‘Galley of Riches,’” Hunter said. “A sweet little song about things grouped in threes. Three wanderers from afar, three ships that sail to port, a treasure box with three gifts—”

“And how three people make a family,” Sophia added. “A mother, a father, and a child . . .”

The way Sophia looked at Hunter made me think that remark was more than rhetorical. Is Sophia pregnant? The glow in her face and revved-up appetite sounded awfully familiar.

I recalled how my own little family of three began. The tender way Matteo treated me when I was pregnant with Joy, including his many trips to all-night bodegas and neighborhood delis to satisfy my cravings.

The three of us certainly weathered the ups and downs together, like a rocky ride on a volatile sea; but even after Matt and I split, the ship didn’t sink. We kept our bond to support our daughter.

My gaze found Gus, still unconscious, on the hospital bed, hooked up to machines and monitors.

I tried to imagine what his little family of three had gone through aboard the Andrea Doria on the harrowing night it went down. It must have been terrible and terrifying. But somehow he’d gotten them through it—his wife, Angelica, and their young daughter, Perla.

Perla.

My thoughts stalled on Gus’s eldest child as a crucial question occurred to me that hadn’t before—

The day Gus was poisoned, Sophia had joined Matt and me for the opening of the safe-deposit box. Why wasn’t Perla with us?