Page 209 of To Catch a Sub

The photo looked weathered, the tape that held it to the wall yellowed with age. It looked like someone had taped it up there, meaning it to be temporary—maybe so they wouldn’t lose it, maybe waiting for a frame—and it became a holy artifact.

“When she was pregnant with me, they discovered she had atherosclerosis. It was already advanced, even though she was young and healthy.”

Colette didn’t know what atherosclerosis was, but she didn’t say anything, only squeezed Landon’s hand.

“When I was two, she was diagnosed with premature coronary artery disease. I remember her being tired all the time.”

“She’d hate that that’s all you remember,” Oliver said quietly. “She wasn’t like that, before she got sick.”

“And she had none of the risk factors.” Now Landon sounded almost angry.

“Genetics.” Nana appeared in the open kitchen door, a food-laden tray in her hands.

Landon and Oliver both raced to help her. She handed it to Oliver, then took Landon’s arm, leaning on him as they followed Oliver to the kitchen counter.

“This is good.” Nana picked up one of the elegant tea cups. “Using the tea set your mother gave Armaiti.” Nana patted Oliver’s arm.

Colette wondered about their relationship. Nana—whose actual name Colette didn’t know—was Oliver’s mother-in-law. She understood, in a detached way, that they moved to England to help care for their daughter and grandchild when their daughter was sick, and when she died, they stayed to help raise Landon.

But they were still here. Landon was grown up and moved out. Why had they stayed?

Oliver looked at the tray Nana had brought and sighed. It was a familiar sound of mild exasperation she’d heard from Landon more than once.

“I can feed myself. And our guest.”

“Of course you can.” Nana patted Oliver’s arm. When he didn’t move, the pat turned into more of a shove to get him out of the way. Oliver was easily twice her bodyweight but he staggered to the side as if she’d really pushed him.

The byplay had the feeling of comfort and routine. As if they’d done this a thousand times before.

For Colette, who’d had only a guardian—because no one wanted to adopt her—and no other family, the idea that maybe the Maliks had stayed because Oliver was their family, even without his wife or son in residence, was almost fantastical.

She could almost see the web of love and shared grief that wove between these three. If Nani—whose name was Ali, Colette was pretty sure—was here, she was sure he’d be a part of that web.

Landon had lived through a parent’s terminal illness and death. But he’d had this web, this net of love, to hold him up. To keep him from falling and falling, hitting the cold stone reality. They caught him before he could find out exactly how cruel the world was at an age when that knowledge would break him.

Colette had fallen.

The tightness in her stomach became a sinking feeling.

“Sit. Talk to her. And to your son.”

Nana shot Landon a look, though she was addressing Oliver. Landon winced and she shooed him back towards the table.

“I can feed myself,” Oliver told Colette as he sat across the table from her. “And other people.”

Landon sat beside Colette, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Nana’s here because she doesn’t want to miss out on anything.”

Colette covered her smile with her hand.

“What do you do?” Oliver asked. He sounded less curious, and more like he was following a script. Questions to ask when meeting new people.

Landon dropped his arm over the back of her chair, but when he went to answer for her—or throw off the conversation by announcing he’d quit his job—she touched his leg.

“I’m a gem and jewelry appraiser.”

“Ah, good.” Oliver looked like he had no idea if that was good, bad, or other.

“She appraises rich people’s jewelry,” Landon clarified. “Among other things.”