Chapter 10
In December, Dante invited my family to Bellweather.
Not to his home.
To the academy.
The first Marco Moran Scholarship recipients were being announced.
My mother wore a blue dress she had owned since my college graduation.
Jamie spent the entire drive complaining that his tie was attempting to strangle him.
Eleanor met us at the library.
When she saw my mother, she hugged her.
“Tom talked about you constantly.”
My mother began crying immediately.
“So did he.”
They spent half an hour exchanging stories about my father and Marco.
Apparently Marco had once helped Dad repair a porch even though neither man understood what was wrong with it.
“The porch leaned,” Eleanor said.
“Tom claimed the house was crooked.”
My mother laughed through her tears.
“That sounds like him.”
For the first time since my father died, I learned something new about him.
Not a secret.
A story.
That felt like a gift.
Dante arrived with Vanessa.
Together.
Not holding hands.
But together.
She kissed my mother’s cheek.
Jamie stared at Dante.
Then said, “So you’re the guy my sister pulled out of a car.”
“Apparently.”
“She tells it differently.”
Cara, I thought.
Do not murder your brother at a scholarship ceremony.
“How?”
Dante asked.
Jamie grinned.
“She says you complained the entire time.”
“I had fallen off a mountain.”
“You told her to leave you.”
“I was concerned for her safety.”
“She says that was stupid.”
Dante looked at me.
“Your family is very loyal.”
“To each other,” I said.
“That’s the dangerous kind.”
Vanessa laughed.
Something warm passed between her and Dante.
Not the effortless warmth of people who had forgotten their problems.
The steadier kind.
The warmth of people who had seen the cracks and decided, carefully, to keep building.
Later I found Vanessa looking at the scholarship plaque.
“How are things?” I asked.
She understood.
“Better.”
“That sounds cautious.”
“It is.”
She smiled.
“I moved back home.”
“Oh.”
“Into the guest room.”
I tried not to react.
She laughed.
“It’s progress.”
“It sounds confusing.”
“Marriage frequently is.”
She looked toward Dante, who was talking to Jamie about old buildings.
“We have dinner together every Wednesday. No phones.”
“Romantic.”
“Mostly administrative.”
“That may be more impressive.”
Her expression softened.
“We’re learning each other again.”
“And trust?”
“Slowly.”
May you like
She looked at me.
“Which turns out to be the only way it lasts.”
