Page 49 of Let the Light Shine Through

“Oh, God. You’re still doing that?” Rowdy speaks up, gaining Al’s attention as well.

With all the men looking at her, Gia shrugs. “We all wear grief differently. Sometimes it’s muted,” her gaze flicks to mine and I swallow, “other times it’s not. Funerals are the one place where you see both displayed simultaneously. There’s no wrong way to grieve, but there isn’t a right way either, and there’s something tragically beautiful about that.”

So she was crashing Salvy’s funeral. I don’t know how to feel about that knowledge. I thought as much but didn’t know for sure. I’m offended, on Diane’s behalf, but also…grateful? If she hadn’t, where would I be right now? Is that selfish?

I haven’t wanted anything for myself, haven’t gone after anything for myself, since I stepped away from my old life, and now that I have my sights set on something I do want, I can’t just give it up because we met under questionable circumstances.

Gia’s eyes drop before she adds, “But I don’t do it anymore.”

When? When did she stop? After meeting me? Why?

Does she feel the same way I do? Somehow I find that impossible. But maybe not. While her mouth tells me she doesn’t do attachments, we continue to find each other, like there’s an invisible tether connecting us.

Leaning back, I stretch my arm out behind Gia, resting it along the top of her stool’s backrest, my fingers grazing her shoulder blade.

Something brought her to Salvy’s funeral that day. Something brought her to me. Whether due to some divine intervention or not, it doesn’t really matter because I’m not letting Gia cut that tether. Not yet.

Al finishes with the feast, placing it on the counter in front of us family-style. Perfectly crisp home fries, seasoned sausage patties, and fluffy ricotta pancakes with sliced strawberries. Oh, and real maple syrup. Even I know not to fuck with that fake stuff around here.

Gia glances up, meeting her father’s intense gaze. Coming around the peninsula, Al breaks the connection to give the back of his daughter’s head a kiss. Despite Rowdy already reaching for the pancakes, he stops to watch the tender moment, too. When Al pulls back, a lone tear rolls down his cheek before he wipes it away, then he says something to Gia in Italian that she nods to.

“Roz, it was nice meeting you.” We shake hands again. “Next time just let yourself in, yeah?” My head bobs on its own accord. Will there really be a next time?

With a fatherly pat on the back to Rowdy, Al excuses himself for work, leaving the three of us to the food.

“He’s not going to eat?”

Gia smiles thinly. “He eats while he cooks.” Then with more enthusiasm, she lifts a fork to stab a sausage patty, and says, “Dig in, boys.”

After that, the three of us fall into lighter conversation and I purposely avoid bringing up anything awkward again. In the moments where I remain silent, I watch Gia and Rowdy together. They’re close. Really close. But not in the way I might’ve thought at first. They’re like brother and sister in the same way Salvy and I were like brothers.

As soon as we finish, Gia bolts from the room, mumbling about needing to soak her shirt.

“She does that a lot, huh?”

Knowing Rowdy understands what I mean, I keep watch in case Gia returns.

“She has this way of always leaving people wanting more,” he agrees.

I twist back around. That’s exactly how I’d describe it. Of course, Gia has me wanting more before she even leaves though. But I keep that fun fact to myself.

Rowdy and I eye the pile of dirty dishes, then each other.

“I’ll wash if you dry,” he says and I smother a laugh. Why not?

Rowdy points to a lower cupboard, telling me where the now-clean platter belongs, and while I’m bent over putting it away, I hear Gia whistle as she enters the kitchen.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this.”

The telltale sound of a towel snapping against flesh echoes through the house before Gia groans and Rowdy says, “You didn’t give us much of a choice when you left us with the mess.”

Gia’s rubbing her thigh when I turn around, but luckily, she’s too busy frowning at Rowdy to notice my jaw drop. Her thighs…they’re bare. She’s only wearing her boxer briefs now, so essentially underwear. Just underwear. And a long-sleeve tee, but still…just underwear. I figured she’d come out in my shorts just to rub it in my face that she’s still got them, but this, this is so much better.

And worse.

This date’s coming to an end and she decides now’s the time to show more of that body. “She has this way of always leaving people wanting more.” Yes. The fuck. She. Does.

“And when’s the last time you cleaned anything at your own house?” she throws at Rowdy, circling him.