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Carlo’s mind was so set on getting through Jonathan’s press conference in a week and the wedding the week after, that he hadn’t done anything to get ready for Thanksgiving which was only days away. That meant making a few dishes for his mother, going home with his two brothers for the always over-the-top table piled with food and the assorted relatives who would drift in and out over the course of the day. It also meant asking Emma to join him as she had for so many years.
Since her mother lived in Edison, only about thirty-five or so minutes away from Newark, she’d usually have an early meal with her mother and then come north to join him and his family. Or at least that’s what used to happen only she was sending so many mixed signals lately that he didn’t know what she was thinking.
And he suspected what some members of his family were alternately thinking. Paolo was all for cutting Emma loose and not having a repeat of Carlo’s prior disastrous engagement. Tomás seemed to be on the fence and lost in his own thoughts revolving around his military service and possibly Jesse. You’d have to be blind not to see that there was a connection between the two of them. As for his father, mother, and his half-brothers, they were all aboard the Emma train, but they only saw her at family events when she plastered on her happy face and everything seemed good between them.
And maybe it was all good, he thought as he hesitated, his fingers poised on the speed dial number for Emma, and then pressed it. He listened to her cheery pop ringtone until she picked up and breathlessly said, “Sorry. I was just finishing up a consult. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s going great if you don’t count that this Thursday is Thanksgiving and I still need to cook a bunch of dishes,” he said in a teasing tone.
The rustle of papers came across the line followed by a mumbled curse. “I get it. I can’t believe it’s Thanksgiving already. It’s just been so crazy the last few weeks.”
“I get you. Mamãe called to remind me about what to bring,” he said and paused. Before she could say anything, he jumped in with, “And to ask if you’d be coming to join me . . . join us again.”
An uneasy silence filled the air before she said, “There’s still so much work for Connie and Jon’s wedding and I’m so tired. . .”
He shut her down to save himself the embarrassment of a rejection. “It’s okay, Emma. There is a lot going on with all the events and I bet you could use a little down time by yourself. Plus I know that if you came we’d probably end up talking about the wedding and stuff so you couldn’t really relax.”
“Yeah, we probably would,” she said with a sigh filled with sadness that he suspected had nothing to do with Connie and Jonathan’s upcoming marriage.
“I guess I’ll see you next Monday to finalize the press conference plans,” he said and when she quickly agreed, he ended the call.
A knock on the glass door of his office dragged him back to work as he noticed Tomás standing by the door. He’d been wearing civvies since coming back, but the brace was ever present on his left leg. “What’s up, mano?” he said with a quick jerk of his head.
“I was going to ask you the same thing, Carlo. You look like the day we had to put down Spottie,” he said, referring to the beagle they’d had for over a dozen years as kids. They’d found the beagle with only a stub of a tail rooting through the bakery’s garbage one morning and taken him in as a pet. Carlo, always the sucker for the lost and wounded, had bonded with Spottie more than any of them.
Carlo shook his head, unable to deny his mood. “Feeling close to that bad, Tomás. How are you doing? Leg doesn’t seem to slow you down all that much.”
Tomás glanced at his balky knee and made a face. “I’m trying not to let it, but there’s a part of me that says I need to consider what I’ll do if I can’t go back to the Rangers. You know what I mean, right, about considering what to do if things don’t work out?”
Tomás’s question surprised him since it seemed to move him into the Paolo Cut-Emma-Loose camp. “I know what you mean, but maybe I’m just not ready to take that next step.”
“Me, either, mano. But I have to say that all this wedding stuff and being in Sea Kiss has me wondering what it would be like to be here all the time. Get up in the morning and go surfing or fishing. Take a stroll with a beautiful woman through town or on the boardwalk. Maybe even have a kid or two, you know. Things I never imagined I’d want.”
The wistful tone in his younger brother’s voice was impossible to miss and a surprise since he’d always been All Action Guy. “It’s ‘cause we’re getting older. Mamãe already had the three of us by this age.”
Tomás blew out a rough laugh. “Caralho, I’m only thirty. Don’t make me feel sixty.”
“Sometimes I feel sixty,” Carlo admitted with a heavy exhale, although he was only two years older than Tomás. “It would be great to have you here, helping out. It would give me more time to relax.”
Another laugh erupted from his brother, but it wasn’t harsh. “You, relax? If I know you, you’ve got plans all done up for expanding the business. Lord knows you’ve probably been hoarding away everything you make to do it.”
He smiled. “You know me too well. But if you’re staying, I’d be glad to have you here with us full time. Maybe I’d finally have the time to use some of those dollars I saved to trade my mobile home for the one I’ve thought about for years.”
His brother arched a dark brow and said, “Are you sure you want me around here? Paolo mentioned you and Emma had talked about going into business together.”
He shook his head. “Paolo talks too much,” Carlo chided, but without any sting.
“But is it true? You and Emma together? Business-wise that is,” Tomás clarified.
Carlo nodded. “We had talked about it and I hope it’ll happen someday. Right now Emma is a big maybe in that plan, so let’s leave that for another time. As for you, would that beautiful woman and child you mentioned before be Jesse and her son by any chance?”
Tomás looked away and his lips tightened into a thin slash. “She intrigues me and it’s not just that she’s beautiful. She’s strong, but I see the sadness there too. I’d like to take away that hurt and make her really smile again.”
Carlo nodded and leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands as he considered his brother. “She’s had a rough time. I’m sure you heard her story already.”
“I knew Jesse before she married Ed. We dated a few times the summer you came down here to start the business and I was helping you out. It was nice, really nice, but it just wasn’t what I wanted back then. And now . . . the last thing I want is to take advantage of someone who might still be vulnerable, but that’s jumping the gun considering that I don’t know if I’m staying or going.”
Just like Carlo didn’t know if Emma was staying or going in his life, so he understood his brother’s predicament. “When it’s the right thing to do, you’ll know.”
“So will you, mano,” Tomás said and with a wave, walked out the door to get back to work.
As Carlo watched him go, he hoped his brother was right.
***
THE AMBIANCE IN THE room at the upscale inn was subdued and elegant. Antique tables and chairs were efficiently laid out around the wood-burning fireplace where a nice fire tossed out welcome warmth. The tables were set with fine linen, china, silver, and crystal for the well-heeled patrons who chatted in hushed tones over Thanksgiving meals. On walls of an indeterminate shade of white an eclectic mix of paintings hung discreetly. The artwork was from a gallery in town that specialized in up and coming local artists.
The vibe couldn’t be any more different from the raucous get together that would be going on at Carlo’s family home, but this Thanksgiving treat had become a ritual with her and her mother once they’d managed to put their lives back together after her father’s betrayal.
Emma raised her wine glass for a toast and as her mother did the same, Emma said, “To strong women.”
Juliana repeated the toast, but there was something different in Emma’s mother’s gaze. The haunted look that had been there for so many years as they’d struggled to get back on their feet was finally gone and replaced by a brilliant sparkle in green eyes so similar to her own.
“You look . . . really happy,” Emma said and thought that this new shine took years off her mother’s face. She could pass for a woman in her mid-forties although she was sixty. Plus her mother kept herself in good shape and had always managed to look fashionable even when they’d been dead broke.
“I wish I could say the same about you, Emma. I can see you’re troubled,” Juliana said and set her glass back on the table.
Emma shrugged and sipped her wine. “I’ve got a ton of work to do for the next few weeks. Just worried about making sure it all goes right.”
“Connie’s wedding?” Juliana asked and Emma nodded.
“That and a press conference for Jon’s company, not that I’m complaining. More work means more money in my pocket.” More money being of utmost importance since the day they’d discovered that her father had not only run off with another woman, but emptied all their bank accounts, including the one intended to pay for Emma’s college tuition. Since then she’d always been careful with her finances. It had let her buy her home in Sea Kiss and after that, she’d started setting aside money to open her own business one day. Maybe even that event planning business with Carlo.
Her mother raised her glass, hesitated to peer at Emma over the rim, and took a sip before deliberately setting the glass down once more. Juliana avoided Emma’s gaze as she said, “I never thought I’d say this, but money doesn’t make up for not having someone special in your life.”
There was a tone in her mother’s voice which both surprised and worried. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something you want to tell me, mom?”
Juliana’s head shot up as if in surprise, but then she met Emma’s gaze directly. “Because there is, Em. I’ve met someone and we’ve been seeing each other.”
Emma jerked back almost as if struck by the news. During all of their weekly talks and occasional dinners, her mother had never mentioned a man. “How long have you been seeing him?”
Juliana’s hand shook as she reached for a piece of bread and broke off a slice in a nervous gesture. “About six months –”
“Six months!” Emma said in a strained whisper and leaned toward her mom. “Six months and you never said anything in all the times we talked?”
Her mother’s surprise announcement was almost like a deception in her mind. They’d always been close and that she’d kept it a secret for so long . . .
With a pained sigh, Juliana said, “I was worried you’d react just like this, Em. I know I made a lot of mistakes with your dad.”
“You weren’t the one who made the mistakes, mom,” she said and laid her hand over her mother’s as it rested on the table, concern overriding her initial anger.
Tears shimmered in Juliana’s green eyes, but she corralled the tears much as she had for so long during her marriage. “I shouldn’t have let him berate us the way he did. I should have stood up to him and I should have paid more attention to what was happening. I should have seen it coming.”
“Mommy,” she began, sounding too much like the scared seventeen-year-old whose world had totally been turned upside down overnight.
Her mother cupped her face from across the narrow width of the table and smiled. “It’s okay, Emma. We survived. It made us stronger, but sometimes I worry you equate being strong with being alone. I know I felt that way for a long time, but then I met Scott.”
Emma’s throat was tight with emotion, but somehow she managed to squeak out, “Scott? Is that his name?” At Juliana’s nod, she asked, “How did you meet him?”
“At work,” her mother said and Emma started to pick at her meal as she listened to her mother’s story about how Scott had been hired in another department and they’d run into each other at a party for a colleague’s birthday.
“He’s nothing like your father,” Juliana said and forked up a bit of turkey and stuffing from her plate. After she chewed and swallowed, she continued. “I think I care for him and I’d like you to meet him.”
Her mother with a man. Emma never could have imagined that this day would come. She’d kind of pictured the two of them alone together against the world and that word leapt at her again as it had when her mother had said it.
Alone. Not that she’d seen her mother and her going all Grey Gardens, but she’d never pictured a man in their lives.
Not even Carlo? the little voice chastised.
With that weird kind of mind reading that moms seemed to possess, Juliana said, “Since you’re so busy with work, I assume you’ve been seeing a lot of Carlo. How’s he doing?”
“Fine. Busy,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cranberry and turkey.
“Hmm,” Juliana said thoughtfully, but it was obvious her mother wasn’t buying it. “I guess you’re going to his family’s house like you usually do?”
“No,” she said and focused on the meal in front of her, avoiding Juliana’s intense perusal.
“But you always go there –”
“I’ve got too much work to do. Besides, things change, mom. Just look at you,” she said and hated the anger and upset in her voice, and immediately apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m very glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy. I really am. I just need to get used to the idea.”
“You will, but I need you to promise me something,” Juliana began and as Emma met her gaze, her mother continued. “Don’t be afraid to take a chance on Carlo. He’s a good man. One who will respect you and love you with all his heart.”
Her brain knew that to be true, but her heart, a heart that had already experienced too much pain, was finding it hard to take the next step. But she knew her mother couldn’t be happy if she thought that Emma was miserable and so she relented.
“I’ll try, mom. I promise I’ll try.”
