Chapter Fifteen

OLIVIA DROVE PAST split-level ranches, tidy blocks of beige, white, or gray set back from tidy blocks of weary winter grass. The streets were broad and the lots were wide, but the monotonous, placating openness reminded her too much of where she grew up. Her sister-in-law’s house hunkered in the middle of the block. She pulled into the driveway and parked under a battered basketball hoop. The side door to the garage was ajar, and a shadow streaked across it as someone moved within. A dull dread settled over her. Sophia’s family hadn’t just welcomed her, they’d clutched her close, and she never questioned their effusive love, never wondered if it would hold. Until now. She peeled her clenched fingers from the steering wheel, then forced herself out of the car. The side door squeaked as she opened it fully, and Christina looked up from a pile of storage bins.

“Oh, hey, you got my text about the garage.”

“I did.” They exchanged kisses to each cheek and a warm hug. “But why are you out here?”

“I’m just getting these down while Frank and the boys clean the kitchen. We’re finally putting the Christmas decorations away this weekend.”

Olivia took the coffee Christina handed her. Faint steam curled around her cheeks with the first bracing sip. “Bless you.”

Christina cleared a space on a wicker bench stored against the wall so they could sit. The last box she moved was for the family tree topper, an antique passed down from her father. They’d traded it back and forth, each year, until Sophia’s death. Faded Italian scrolled along the battered cardboard sides. A cellophane cutout in the lid had been patched with yellowing tape, and through it, an angel-shaped depression stared out from faded green velvet lining.

“This time always hits hard for me.” Christina set the box on a larger plastic bin and sat back, leaning against the garage wall. “Sophia told you, I suppose, how we fought about her liking girls in high school? I didn’t understand. If she was attracted to both, couldn’t she pick the easier one?”

“She mentioned a falling out.” Olivia glided past the full truth of her wife’s teenage devastation, which she’d learned of in college. Resurrecting that pain served no one.

“I was furious at her for changing things and scared it would ruin my senior year with gossip. We barely spoke for months. After the Epiphany service, I found her crying in our room. She’d kissed a girl—”

“I couldn’t believe she got her first girl kiss in a Catholic Church!”

“That’s our Sophia. Go big or go home.” Christina choked, caught between a laugh and a sob. “The other girl confessed to the priest, and Sophia was terrified he’d tell our parents. Once I saw her fear and how brave she must have been to kiss her, all my anger disappeared.”

Olivia knew the entire story, beat by beat, but grief had taught her patience when people shared their memories. Everyone was crafting their own oral history of Sophia. Each retelling made it more indelible. “She said you made it possible for her to tell Nonna and Nonno before the priest did.”

“I think of those months of silence and what a fool I was. I’d do anything now for six more months with her.” Christina wiped tears from her cheeks. “Sorry for dumping this on you.”

“It’s fine, really.” A muffled, playful shout echoed from the house, followed by a burst of several voices in laughter, Ben’s high trill among them. The older he got, the more he could embrace the boisterous energy of Christina’s house. For a time, at least. “Thanks again for taking him.”

“Of course. Frank loves it, especially with Matteo living on his own. The more boys the better, as far as he’s concerned.” Christina twisted in place, a frown drawing twin furrows around her mouth. “He joked about wanting ten, but four was enough.”

“Sciatica bothering you again?”

“When you ask me like that, I feel ninety years old.”

“I hear you. My body doesn’t bounce back the way it used to either.” She hesitated at the shrewd look passing across Christina’s face. “What?”

“Do you have something to bounce back from?”

Olivia huddled around her coffee and studied her sister-in-law. More salt than pepper wove through her hair, and at fifty-three, the crow’s-feet never left. She didn’t resemble Sophia, but the same intelligence glinted in her eyes. This woman had been part of Olivia’s entire adult life. Facing their shared history, she fumbled for a way to show even a hint of a new future.

“You’ve met someone.” Christina did the work for her.

Relief surged, along with shame in hiding from the words. “How did you know?”

“The sleepovers. And you seem happier, relaxed.”

“Are you upset?”

“No.” She ran a finger along the lip of her cup.

“Christina—”

“I’m not. At least, not with you. No one in this family expects you to be alone forever, but it’s the last step to letting Sophia go, isn’t it?”

Letting Sophia go. How did she let go of a woman she still saw every day? It might be the chestnut highlights in Ben’s hair, or the way sunlight brought an amber glint to his eyes, or even the slant of his toes, but it was all Sophia. Still present. Still vivid.

“Ellie. Her name is Ellie.” The world shuddered like a film skittering off the reel. With those five letters, Olivia transformed from a sister-in-law, a widow, a confidant in grief, into a woman creating a reality separate from Sophia. Silence throbbed. She had summoned Ellie into Christina’s world, but she didn’t know where to go next.

“What’s Ellie short for?” Christina said the name carefully as if testing a strange sound she’d never associated with Olivia before.

“Isabella, but only her family calls her that.”

“Italian?”

“Mexican.”

“She has dark hair?”

The implication was hard to miss. “Yes, but curly, and she’s almost my height.”

“Really? That must feel different.”

Ellie’s sable eyes glittered in her mind. “It can be oddly intense. I’ll turn to her, and she’s right there. With Sophia, there’d be a beat as I looked down.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s very open and quick and sweet. She’s an OT at the clinic, which is how we met.”

Christina finished her coffee with a long swig, then squeezed the empty mug until her knuckles went white. “You’ve slept together?”

She thought of Ellie’s tender, gentle face after her first orgasm. Emotion swelled—joy and regret so tangled she couldn’t feel one without the other. “I wasn’t sure I could be so open again. Part of me feels like I’ve betrayed Sophia.” Tears stung, and she sniffed hard.

“Absolutely not. You’re allowed to be happy. Sophia would want you to be happy.” Christina laid a hand on her arm. “I don’t think I’ve said that yet. And I should have, a while ago. I’m sorry. I should’ve been the kind of sister-in-law who nudged you to find someone else, but…I was selfish. I wanted to keep her with us by keeping you with us, and—”

“I’ll always be with you. With all of you. Me and Ben.”

“And we’ll always love you, no matter what changes, no matter who you open up to.”

“Thanks, Christina.” Olivia blew out a long sigh to stop more tears from welling up. “I’m such a mess lately. Emotional.”

Christina dabbed at her own eyes. “Just wait for menopause.”

“Oh, that’s the craziest part. I forgot to tell you. Ellie’s thirty-five.”

“Shut up! You had sex with a thirty-five-year-old last night?”

Olivia let a tiny smirk slip out. “More than once.”

Christina smirked back. “Keep that up, and I won’t be the only one with sciatica.”

The side door banged open as Ben charged through, face tacky with maple syrup. His jacket flapped wildly from one arm. “Mom! Frank said you were out here. We saved you pancakes. Come, come, come! I want to tell you about my checker moves!”

She tugged the coat over his other arm. “You can tell me all of them, but I need one more minute with Zia Christina. Will you make sure there’s some syrup left for me? Because most of it’s on your face.” She regretted the crack the second he swiped at his sticky chin with his coat sleeve. The door banged open as he ran back through.

“You are definitely distracted, making that rookie mistake.” Christina nudged her shoulder. “When are you going to tell Mamma?”

Olivia shrugged, her petite mother-in-law looming large. Their conversation…she needed more time.

“She’ll be okay. I think.” Christina patted her knee. “Did you really wait this long to tell me because of nerves?”

“MOM!” Ben’s voice carried from the house. “Come see this selfie I took with Marco. Our milk mustaches are hilarious!”

She offered a hand to Christina as she stood, a little lighter as this first revelation fell away. “I wanted to be sure enough about Ellie to risk bringing her into Ben’s world. Telling him is next on my list.”