clearly unhappy to have the spotlight back on his own troubles. Turtle retreating into his shell. “Sometimes I say you don’t know what you’re talking about. Mostly I just, like, walk away.”
“In other words, you’re hoping if you ignore the whispers, they’ll go away.”
He jerked his shoulders. “I guess.”
“Ignoring things hardly ever makes them go away, you know.”
If she’d said that, Jake would have gotten sullen. But because it was Ethan instead, he screwed up his face. “I sort of know that.”
“Well, here’s what I’d tell them instead. ‘Something really bad did happen, but I was only five. It was an accident. I never meant to hurt anybody. Five-year-olds don’t understand much. I’d give anything for it not to have happened, but I can’t go back.’”
Laura watched Jake’s lips move as he silently repeated every word. Hero worship being born, she thought ruefully. And...she couldn’t even be sorry. Ethan had been sympathetic without getting maudlin, practical and philosophically, well, not that different from where she stood.
Disturbed by the tenor of her thoughts, she reminded herself that he did carry a gun, and was fully prepared to use it at any time.
Ethan glanced down at his phone, and she realized it must have vibrated. He rose to his feet and said, “I do need to go now. Laura, will you walk me out?”
She nodded.
Neither of them said anything until they’d reached the sidewalk by his SUV.
“Maybe I should move again,” Laura said suddenly. “Tino’s two aren’t going to rush around school on Monday telling everyone Dad says he was wrong, that Marco’s death wasn’t Jake’s fault.”
“Probably not. Kids don’t want to admit they were wrong.” His forehead creased. “What are his kids’ names?”
“Names?” She blinked. “His oldest is Niccolo, although I think he goes by Nick. And the girl is Gianna. Then they had another girl...Maddalena, I think. She’d be...eight. Then the boy in kindergarten and, heck, probably at least one more if not two.”
“Does Jake lengthen?”
“You mean, is it Italian? No. His full name is Jacob. Matt’s parents were not happy. He was Matteo, you know. They blamed me, but it was all him. I’d have been fine with Rico or Roberto or something like that, but he refused. He kept saying, ‘Mama doesn’t want to admit it, but we’re American now.’”
“Huh.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I take it that Mama Vennetti did not approve of her son marrying a woman who isn’t Italian?”
“Mama did not, and she never tried to like me.” At first Laura had been hurt, then mad. She’d become a damn fine Italian cook, she’d consented to raise their children in the Catholic Church even though she herself didn’t take the sacraments, but she wasn’t good enough and never would be. She wasn’t a woman who would hover in the background, as Renata had done today. The irony was that Mama was a domineering woman who wouldn’t hang back while her husband made decisions, either. Truthfully, what Mama didn’t want was another woman in the family who would challenge her .
Ethan studied her thoughtfully. “So the setup was already in place after the shooting.”
“For Mama to reject me? Absolutely. Matt...” She had to swallow and it was a struggle to go on. “That, I never would have expected—”
She wondered if being cut off by his family had devastated her husband more than her fury and inability to forgive him. Sometimes she almost hoped so, as if that would reduce the weight of her own sins.
“Hey.” Given how hard Ethan Winter’s face could be with its stark angles and planes, he had a way of looking remarkably gentle. Even...tender. “I didn’t mean to depress you even more.”
“What’s happening with Jake tears off scabs,” she said honestly. “How can it not?”
He didn’t say anything, his eyes intent on her.
“I think you’re right,” she said in a rush. “About the gun safety
“In other words, you’re hoping if you ignore the whispers, they’ll go away.”
He jerked his shoulders. “I guess.”
“Ignoring things hardly ever makes them go away, you know.”
If she’d said that, Jake would have gotten sullen. But because it was Ethan instead, he screwed up his face. “I sort of know that.”
“Well, here’s what I’d tell them instead. ‘Something really bad did happen, but I was only five. It was an accident. I never meant to hurt anybody. Five-year-olds don’t understand much. I’d give anything for it not to have happened, but I can’t go back.’”
Laura watched Jake’s lips move as he silently repeated every word. Hero worship being born, she thought ruefully. And...she couldn’t even be sorry. Ethan had been sympathetic without getting maudlin, practical and philosophically, well, not that different from where she stood.
Disturbed by the tenor of her thoughts, she reminded herself that he did carry a gun, and was fully prepared to use it at any time.
Ethan glanced down at his phone, and she realized it must have vibrated. He rose to his feet and said, “I do need to go now. Laura, will you walk me out?”
She nodded.
Neither of them said anything until they’d reached the sidewalk by his SUV.
“Maybe I should move again,” Laura said suddenly. “Tino’s two aren’t going to rush around school on Monday telling everyone Dad says he was wrong, that Marco’s death wasn’t Jake’s fault.”
“Probably not. Kids don’t want to admit they were wrong.” His forehead creased. “What are his kids’ names?”
“Names?” She blinked. “His oldest is Niccolo, although I think he goes by Nick. And the girl is Gianna. Then they had another girl...Maddalena, I think. She’d be...eight. Then the boy in kindergarten and, heck, probably at least one more if not two.”
“Does Jake lengthen?”
“You mean, is it Italian? No. His full name is Jacob. Matt’s parents were not happy. He was Matteo, you know. They blamed me, but it was all him. I’d have been fine with Rico or Roberto or something like that, but he refused. He kept saying, ‘Mama doesn’t want to admit it, but we’re American now.’”
“Huh.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I take it that Mama Vennetti did not approve of her son marrying a woman who isn’t Italian?”
“Mama did not, and she never tried to like me.” At first Laura had been hurt, then mad. She’d become a damn fine Italian cook, she’d consented to raise their children in the Catholic Church even though she herself didn’t take the sacraments, but she wasn’t good enough and never would be. She wasn’t a woman who would hover in the background, as Renata had done today. The irony was that Mama was a domineering woman who wouldn’t hang back while her husband made decisions, either. Truthfully, what Mama didn’t want was another woman in the family who would challenge her .
Ethan studied her thoughtfully. “So the setup was already in place after the shooting.”
“For Mama to reject me? Absolutely. Matt...” She had to swallow and it was a struggle to go on. “That, I never would have expected—”
She wondered if being cut off by his family had devastated her husband more than her fury and inability to forgive him. Sometimes she almost hoped so, as if that would reduce the weight of her own sins.
“Hey.” Given how hard Ethan Winter’s face could be with its stark angles and planes, he had a way of looking remarkably gentle. Even...tender. “I didn’t mean to depress you even more.”
“What’s happening with Jake tears off scabs,” she said honestly. “How can it not?”
He didn’t say anything, his eyes intent on her.
“I think you’re right,” she said in a rush. “About the gun safety
Similar Books
