find effortlessly.
Susan would be a part of the circle of happy young mothers in town. Lacey wouldn’t, not ever.
“I’m so sorry to cause you pain. News like this must be hard for you to hear.”
Susan’s kind words jolted Lacey out of her own self-centered heartache. Finding out you were having a baby was one of the most joyous times of a woman’s life. She remembered when the two pink lines had shown up on her own pregnancy test. Remembered her video call to Gerry. She’d shown the test to him, and they’d both cried tears of joy.
Susan deserved to have that joy, too. She shouldn’t have to focus on her friend’s losses.
Lacey lifted the baby to her shoulder so she could reach out and put an arm around Susan. “It does hurt a little—I’m not going to lie. But what kind of friend would I be not to celebrate with you? I’m thrilled!”
“You’re the best, Lace.” Susan wrapped her arms around Lacey, the baby in between them, and Lacey let herself cry just a little more. Susan understood. She’d stayed a year at Lacey’s guesthouse before the remodeling, the horrible year when Lacey had lost both Gerry and the baby. Susan had been an incredible comfort.
“Anyway,” Susan added, “I’m going to need your help to fit in with the perfect mothers of Rescue River. You know I have a knack for saying the wrong thing.”
“You’ll be fine.” And it was true. Susan was outspoken and blunt, but she gave everything she had to the kids she taught at the local elementary school, and people here loved her for it. “How’s Sam handling the news?”
“Making a million plans and bossing me around, of course.” But Susan smiled as she said it, and for just a moment, Lacey felt even more jealous of the happy-married-woman smile on Susan’s face than of the tiny, growing baby in her belly.
“Hey, guys, can I leave Bobby here for a little while?” Lou Ann Miller, who was taking care of Gina’s baby while she and Buck enjoyed a honeymoon at the shore, stood at the half door. “I want to go to adult Sunday school, but there’s no way he’ll sit through our book discussion.”
“Sure.” Lacey thrust the infant she’d been holding into Susan’s arms. “Just hold her head steady. Yeah, like that.” She walked over to the door and opened it. “Come on in, Bobby!”
“Laaasss,” he said, walking right into her leg and hugging it. “Laaasss.”
Lacey’s heart warmed, and she reached down to pick Bobby up. “He’ll be fine. Take your time,” she said to Lou Ann. “Wave bye-bye to Miss Lou Ann, okay?”
Two more toddlers got dropped off, and then a diaper needed changing. Little Emmie Farmingham, who was almost three, twirled to show Lacey and Susan her new summer dress, patterned with garden vegetables and sporting a carrot for a pocket. Then she proceeded to pull the dress off.
Once they’d gotten Emmie dressed again, the infant sleeping and the other two toddlers playing side by side with plastic blocks, Susan and Lacey settled down into the tiny chairs around the low table. “Babies are great, I guess,” Susan said doubtfully, “but I have to say, I like bigger kids better. I wish one could just land in my lap at age five, like Mindy did.”
“Not me.” Lacey looked over at the toddlers, another surge of regret piercing her heart. “I’ve always loved the little ones.”
“I know you have.” Susan’s voice was gentle. “Hey, want to come over and have lunch with us after this? I think Sam’s grilling. You could bring your swimsuit.”
“You’re sweet.” The thought of lounging by Sam and Susan’s pool was appealing. And Susan was a great friend; she’d stand by Lacey even as she was going through this huge transition of having a child. She wouldn’t abandon Lacey, and that mattered.
Lacey shook her head with real disappointment. “Can’t. I’m meeting Vito for lunch.”
“Oh, Vito.” Susan punched her arm, gently. “Is this a date?”
“It’s not like that. We’re old friends.”
Susan ignored her words. “You should see where it leads. He seems like a great guy, from what I saw of him at the end of the reception. Good-looking, too. Even with the scars.” Susan’s hand flew to her mouth. “I shouldn’t say things like that, should I?”
“Probably not.” Lacey rolled her eyes at her friend, pretending exasperation. “But it’s okay. You can’t help but notice his scars. Anyway, we’re just going to talk about this crazy idea his grandma dreamed up.” She explained how Nonna had unexpectedly rented out her own house, and how Vito was newly a foster father. “Apparently, Vito had no idea that was her plan. He was counting on bringing his foster son, Charlie, to live in Nonna’s big house out in the country. I actually got the feeling Nonna had kept it a secret on purpose, to make sure Vito ended up staying at the guesthouse.”
“But that would be perfect!” Susan clapped her hands. “Vito could be with his nonna, and Charlie could get a sense of family, and they’d be right in town to get, like, reintegrated into the community.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you wanted someone else to room in, right? He’d pay rent, which would help with your expenses. He and Charlie could have separate rooms, or those two connecting ones upstairs.”
Lacey’s response was cut off by the sound of crashing blocks and a wail, and they got busy playing with the babies. The subject of Vito moving into the guesthouse didn’t come up again, but Lacey couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Susan seemed to think it was a great idea, and Nonna had talked to Lacey over breakfast about how wonderful it would be to have Vito there and to get to know the newest member of the family. Her eyes had sparkled when she said that, and few enough things had brought a sparkle to Nonna’s eyes since the heart attack.
There were all kinds of reasons to embrace the idea of Vito and Charlie moving in, but Lacey still felt uneasy about it.
She couldn’t begin to articulate why, even to herself.
* * *
At lunchtime, Vito stood outside the Chatterbox Café, looking up at the town’s outdoor clock, which clearly showed it was only eleven forty-five. He was early. Why had he come so early?
He loosened the itchy collar of his new button-down shirt. He shouldn’t have worn a brand-new shirt today, should have at least washed it first, except that he was living out of a suitcase and he’d been rushing to get Charlie ready to go and there hadn’t been the chance.
He could have just worn an old, comfortable shirt, but the fact was, he was trying to look good. Which was obviously a losing battle.
It wasn’t about Lacey. It was about the fact that he’d probably see other people he knew here at the Chatterbox, and he needed to present a professional image. He had good benefits from the VA—they were paying for his online degree—but a man needed to work, and Vito would be looking for a part-time job just as soon as he’d found a place to live and gotten Charlie settled. Maybe something with kids, since he was looking to become a teacher.
No, it wasn’t about Lacey. He’d had some feelings for her once, but he’d turned those off when she’d married, of course. He’d been over her for years.
“Vito!” Lacey approached, a summery yellow dress swirling around her legs, the wind blowing her short hair into messiness.
She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
He crooked his arm for her to take it, an automatic gesture he’d learned at his nonna’s knee. The way a gentleman treated a lady. And then he remembered how she’d stepped away when he’d done the Italian thing and thrown an arm around her yesterday. He put his arm back at his side.
People are disgusted by your scars, he reminded himself. And she hasn’t