AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Marcel’s not talking to me,” I say on a glum note. “He’s siding with Dad.”
Salvatore’s shoulders lose some of their tension as if sagged down by his sympathy for me. “Right, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. My father and brother have made their choices. So have I. I choose you and Dom… and our bun still cooking in this oven.” My gaze lowers to my small bump that’s barely noticeable through the knit fabric of my dress.
Salvatore does the same. For a moment we eye the bump that signifies the life of our future child. He walks over to join me at the side of the tub, kneeling beside me and plopping a handful of bubbles on top of Dominic’s head.
“We’re our own family,” he says. “It’ll be the four of us. Me, you, and the boys.”
I laugh. “So now we’re having a son. Earlier it was a daughter.”
“I told you, Phi. It’stwins. A girl and a boy.”
“Stop wishing that on me! Delivering one at once was traumatic enough!”
We’re lost in the moment in no time, laughing and teasing each other, and bathing Dominic in his bathtub of bubbles.
Any tension about the letter is long forgotten for the rest of the night.
* * *
“Delphi,” Aunt Beatrice says with a bright lilt to her voice. “What a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to call this afternoon.”
I clutch my phone in one hand and some of Dominic’s toys in the other. He’s fallen asleep after playtime and his playroom looks like a tornado has run through it. I drop the toys off in one of his many toy bins and tell Auntie Bea I’ve missed talking to her.
“I’ll have to head up there soon to see my grand nephew. Send me more pictures so I can show ‘em around.”
A smile comes to my face. “I’ll send you some from Dom’s first birthday. He smashed up his cake and attempted a sandcastle at the beach.”
“Busy boy!”
“Auntie Bea, I wanted to ask you about something. I received a letter from someone who claims he’s an old friend of my mom’s.”
“Leontine had many friends, sweetie. She was a social butterfly. I was the wallflower.”
“You two were each other’s accomplices. Mom told me all the stories.”
“Well… maybe sometimes. We did cover for each other quite a bit.”
“This friend claims they go way back. He sent me a photo of Mom that looks like it’s from before she met Dad. He says he has more of her things. His name’s Clay. Does he sound familiar?”
I expect Auntie Bea to either laugh and gush about how Clay’s some old friend of moms,orfor her to tell me it’s some sort of scam.
Instead, I’m met with silence. Heavy, poignant silence that tells me something’s up.
“Auntie Bea?” I say when my patience runs out. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, Delphi sweetie. I’m here.Claywrote you?”
My brows knit. “Yes, he did. Why do you say it like that?”
“I’m just… I’m shocked is all. It’s been years. Decades.”
“That’s what he says in his letter.”
“What else did he say?”
I lift my shoulder to pin my phone against my ear. “Bea, tell me who this is.”
