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Gio nodded, put his arm around his wife, and led her straight to the door. Dominic watched them until they disappeared.
“Tara’s mother texted,” I explained to Dominic since Gio hadn’t had a chance to give him the full story. “The baby suddenly spiked a high fever.”
Dominic didn’t say anything. He just kept staring toward the door where Tara and Gio had disappeared.
I reached out to gently touch his arm. He showed no sign that he even noticed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I said, even though I knew nothing about babies and fevers. But I saw the anxiety in his face and felt like I needed to say something, anything.
“Did Tara leave?” asked Donna in confusion. She was twisting up an embroidered handkerchief in her thin hands and blinking rapidly.
“Yes, Donna,” I said, sliding into the seat beside the old woman. “Tara and Gio had a small emergency, but don’t worry. I’ll get you whatever you need.”
“And I’ll take you home when you’re ready,” Dominic said. Then he fastened his intense stare on me. “Thank you, Melanie.”
I felt the heat of a blush crawl across my skin.
Donna gazed at me wistfully. “Marie should see you,” she said. “She would be so proud.”
Marie.
The blood rushed to my head, and I nearly fell out of my chair.
My mother’s name had been Marie. But there would be no way for Donna Esposito to know that. She’d just met me. She had to be talking about a different Marie.
Donna didn’t realize her words were at all unusual. She unfolded her handkerchief on her lap. The letters LE were artfully embroidered in dark-blue in the upper corner, and it actually looked like a man’s handkerchief. Her fingers traced the edges as she hummed tunelessly.
“They don’t really leave us,” she said with sudden confidence. Then she turned my way and beamed. “Melanie, may I have another glass of wine?”
“I’ll get it,” Dominic spoke up, and began walking away. When he reached the threshold of the kitchen, he turned around and looked right at me.
There was so much going on, what with all the restaurant chaos and the sudden family emergency that had unfolded moments earlier. Tonight I’d seen Dominic’s face run a gamut of emotions, and I had to admit the reason why I recognized them all—I’d gotten into the habit of watching him so damn closely. But as he held my gaze before disappearing into the kitchen, I glimpsed a raw expression that caught me off guard—tenderness and gratitude and hungry passion all rolled into one. The kind of look that could alter the future and redirect the flight plan of the stars. Had I been standing, my knees would have buckled under the weight of its promises.
