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Troubled green eyes met mine. “My brother escaped from jail.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Holly
Perfect days didn’t exist.
I’d known that from experience practically my whole life, yet the day Carlos took us flying, the fairy-tale princess inside me gained hope like I’d never had. It scared me. But that didn’t stop the hope from spreading like wildfire.
Then the hard dose of reality had squelched those flames, this time courtesy of Jason. I worried about him constantly, but when he was behind bars, I could breathe easier. What was he thinking to escape prison?Howhad he escaped?
Donato and Carlos seemed to be business associates of sorts. What that business was, I likely didn’t want to know. I doubted it was farming, though. But the man had been supportive and appeared to be doing everything he could to find my brother.
His wife, Valentina, had joined us when it became apparent Donato would be at my apartment for some time. In part, I thought he called her to keep Gabriel occupied, for which I was grateful.
“Do you have any Parmesan, love?” She looked over her shoulder at me from the refrigerator.
“I’m not sure,” I said, embarrassed I didn’t know the contents of my own kitchen.
She didn’t seem to mind as she continued to make herself at home. When she’d arrived, the woman was loaded down with grocery bags while balanced on high heels. Truthfully, I was a little in awe.
“Have I stirred this enough?” Gabriel sat on a barstool Valentina had pulled over near the stove. She didn’t seem to mind when he spilled something. In fact, she appeared to like having him cook with her.
She stopped her search and peered in the pot of tomato sauce. “A little more.”
He followed her instruction eagerly. The day had been full of new experiences for him. This was one I never thought possible. I’d never had it myself. Sure, he and I cooked together all the time, but it was different with a grandma. I couldn’t give him that because he would never go anywhere near my mother. His other grandmother—I swallowed past the lump in my throat. He wouldn’t ever have the chance with her either.
Even though Valentina wasn’t his grandmother, she was doting on him as if she were. It was surreal really. I’d seen moving to New York as a safer option. A chance for a new life. I hadn’t realized I’d find myself in a new community of people who genuinely adored my son. Who had just as warmly accepted me. If I could free myself from Drew . . .
“Holly, help me make the garlic spread. The butter is soft enough now.” Valentina seemed to read my thoughts and wanted me to get out of my own head.
She set up the ingredients on the same side of the island where she and Gabriel were. I rounded it and accepted the knife she offered.
“Mince the garlic, please. When you’re finished, I’ll tell you what to do next.”
As I chopped, I caught Carlos watching us. He seemed to be drinking in the scene, thirsty for the kind of family we were pretending to be at this moment. Or maybe that was what I wanted to see because I felt the same.
Valentina squeezed my shoulder. The gesture was supportive and kind and mothering, much like I’d done to Gabriel countless times. Being on the receiving end—it—it was nice.
“That’s perfect. Let’s mash it into the butter with a fork.” She stayed beside me and sliced the Italian loaf of bread she’d brought with her. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she called with an authority that had Donato wrapping up his phone call.
“We’ll set the table,” he said as he stood from the sofa.
Valentina winked at me. She had this man, who exuded so much power it radiated from him, trained. And I couldn’t help it. I winked back. Then I wondered if I’d ever have that.
“The first president tofly on a plane was Theodore Roosevelt,” Gabriel said after he swallowed a bite of chicken bigger than he was. “But he wasn’t still president then. Franklin D. Roosevelt was the first to fly in office.”
Where did he learn these things?
“One day you can pilotAir Force One,” Valentina said.
His eyes lit up.
“Or you could be president,” Donato added.
“I’d rather be a pilot.”
We all laughed, and Gabriel shrugged. They’d indulged his endless chatter over dinner about puppies and planes, seemingly hanging on his every word. And I was grateful.
