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“I was supposed to go back to Savannah after the sailing trip,” Aria explained. “But I just couldn’t. I felt so off. So unsure of myself.”
Cole furrowed his brow. “Was it because of the accident?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know.” Aria could still remember the jagged fear of that night, how she’d been so sure that she and her entire family were about to drown in the inky depths.
“An experience like that changes a person,” Cole muttered. “It’s part of why I returned to the Vineyard.”
Aria nodded. It took her every bit of strength not to reach over and touch his hand. But now, as though he sensed how much she wanted him, Cole inched away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. The refusal of her love seemed apparent. Aria stood and walked angrily toward her kitchen counter, wanting to scream at Cole, to demand why he spent all this time with her but didn’t love her.
As she stalled at the counter, she parsed through her mail, most of which were bills, save for one envelope with her name and address. There was no return address. She frowned at the calligraphy of her name, which was in handwriting she didn’t recognize. Cryptic.
“I just don’t think you should give up on your dreams,” Cole continued as he stood to clean up the pizza and put the leftovers away. “I mean, you went to that Savannah art school for a reason, didn’t you?”
Aria blinked up at him, regretting ever telling him about it.
“What’s that?” Cole asked, gesturing toward the envelope in her hand.
“Oh. I don’t know. Just a bill or something,” Aria lied, shoving it under the pile of mail. She smiled at him nervously, suddenly so exhausted that she thought she might collapse. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Cole nodded, his cheek twitching. Again, there was a strange energy between them, something Aria felt she couldn’t penetrate. It always seemed there was so much left unsaid between them.
“Sleep well,” Cole said as he zipped up his coat and tugged his winter hat over his head. Then, he disappeared into the black night and left Aria stirring in confusion, her brain foggy from too much cheese. Already, the strange envelope on the counter was more or less forgotten, and she stewed in sorrow and loneliness until she finally fell into the release of sleep.
ChapterFive
It was mid-March, and Carmella was at the gym, of all places. In the mirror, she watched herself on the treadmill, walking with her Kindle up on the platform, her legs striding easily, with more muscle and strength than they’d had in quite some time. Ever since Aria had proven herself to be a “baby whisperer,” Carmella had opted for much more time out of the house, using Aria’s talents about three times a week to carve out space for herself. It seemed that now, Carmella was able to think clearer, sleep deeper when she had time, and love Georgia, Cody, and Gretchen, when Gretchen was around, with greater depth and responsibility. As a single person, she’d never cared so much about herself, but now, she understood that caring for herself was a necessary element in caring for everyone else.
When Carmella drove home, she found Aria in the kitchen with baby Georgia in her arms, singing to her as Georgia cooed gently and happily.
“Aren’t you a perfect sight?” Carmella laughed as she entered to take Georgia into her arms.
Aria blushed and then joined Carmella’s laughter. “I didn’t hear you come in!”
“I’m glad. I’ve never heard your singing voice before. It’s something special.”
“It’s not. I just practice in the car all the time,” Aria explained.
Carmella remembered Aria’s clunky Chevy out front, which she’d just purchased about six weeks ago. The car had belonged to a friend of a friend of Carmella’s, and Carmella had been able to make the connection, which had ensured that Aria had gotten a very good deal.
“Why don’t you stay for tea?” Carmella suggested as Georgia fell asleep in her arms. “Unless you have to run back to the bar?”
Aria agreed and placed the kettle on the stovetop, whistling to herself as Carmella went to the next room to put Georgia in her crib. After the water boiled, they brought their tea into the living room and sat on the couch calmly as a sharp late-winter, early-spring draft burst against the house outside.
“This winter must have been hard on you,” Carmella suggested, “being a southern girl and all.”
Aria wrinkled her nose and sipped her tea. “There were a lot of reasons this winter was difficult. I wouldn’t say the weather was in the top five.”
This wasn’t the first time Carmella had seen something of herself in Aria, that same lost, aimless twenty-something she’d been twenty years ago.
“Have you considered visiting your family at all?” Carmella asked.
Aria shook her head. “We’re not close.”
“I wasn’t close with my family, either. For many years,” Carmella said.
Aria’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really? But you and Elsa seem like best friends.”
“That’s a pretty new thing. If you had told me a few years ago that I would be married with a baby, and best friends with my sister, Elsa, I would have said you’re crazy.” Carmella stalled, then added, “Oh, gosh. I sound like an old lady telling you, ‘Life changes when you least expect it!’ Ignore me.”
