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“Thank you.” Rex’s mom sets a large dish in the middle of the table. “Baked chicken with a mushroom and provel cheese sauce and green beans.”
“I think I gained a pound just staring at it.”
“Wait until you taste it. Rex, would you grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator?”
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Nothing, dear. You are our guest. Please, have a seat.”
Rex pours each of us a glass of wine, stopping to kiss my cheek as he passes by. When I blink up at him, I catch a glimpse of his mom watching us, but she quickly turns away.
“I hope your mom likes me,” I whisper.
“She loves you. I can already tell.” Rex drops another kiss to my forehead before corking the wine and placing it back in the refrigerator.
Once we’re all settled, we say a quick prayer and dig into the food.
We fall into easy conversation. Rex’s mother asks me a few surface questions about how I’m liking Chicago and working for Josalyn, but that’s it. She spends the rest of the time telling me stories about Dante and Rex growing up. By the time we’re done eating dinner, I’m certain I’ve got a few embarrassing stories I can hang over each of their heads if ne
eded, and Mrs. Ambrosi has even offered to get me pictures to back them up.
“You’re evil,” Dante says, grabbing his empty plate, along with his mother’s, and walking them to the sink.
“Us girls have to stick together. Isn’t that right, Shae?”
“Absolutely.” I wipe my mouth and set the napkin on the table.
“You done, baby?” Rex asks.
“I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried. I’m stuffed. The meal was delicious, Mrs. Ambrosi.”
Her beautiful face lights up, and now I see where Rex gets it. He has her smile and her beautiful eyes. “Please, call me Isabella.”
“Call her Isa,” Dante says, sitting back down at the table. “That’s what everyone else calls her.” Bending down, he places a kiss on her cheek, but his mother’s wide eyes are locked on mine.
“Isa,” I say, rolling the name around on my tongue. Not Isa with a long I, but with a long E.
Oh, God.
No.
My body stiffens as everything drops into place, and I can see it on Isabella’s face. She knows I know, and thanks to her son no less, who called her by her nickname. Otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve put two and two together as quickly—if at all.
I suck in a sharp breath as my stomach rolls.
Isa’s lips tighten, her eyes silently pleading with me to keep my mouth shut, which is fine because if I open it there’s a good chance I’ll throw up.
Isa is Rex’s mother.
The words from the letter play over and over in my head.
My dearest Isa,
Time has not been our friend, neither has fate. But you have my love, always, as does our son. Please give me more time. I know you’re anxious to get this over with, as am I, but please let me do this the right way. I hate the way things have unraveled but right now I must think of your safety as well as the safety of my children.
Love Always,
Luca
