Yesterday's Stardust (21 page)

His father had translated the prayer. His mother wrote it down. He still had the paper, framed and tucked away in a drawer.
Heavenly Father, give Your angels charge over Dominick. Keep him safe from harm and the evils of this world. Show him the special gift You have given him. May he walk in Your ways always and may his children and theirs acknowledge You. In the name of Your son, Amen.

A week later she died, with her hands folded on her Bible. Beneath her hand they’d found a card with the names of her children, their wives, their children, and their children’s children. Her prayer list.

Her prayers had not kept her grandchildren’s children from harm.

Locking the door he’d entered, Nicky walked through the one that led to the kitchen. His father looked up. “Morning.” The man smiled as natural as if being there was what he did every Sunday. “The pilot must be shot.”

Not likely.
Nicky knelt beside the five-gallon can filling with hot oil. He reset the hi-limit and relit the pilot. It stayed lit. “It’s the thermostat.”
Again.

“Got another one?”

“Of course. I keep a box of—”

“Nicky!” Rena popped through the swinging doors along with his name. “There’s somebody out here who wants to compliment the baker.”

“A regular?” He was in no mood to face the chatty, Sunday-dressed crowd.

“No. She was here once before. Actually, she’s been here a few times.” She giggled. “She says the cinnamon rolls are fit for a king.”

“Do you cater?”

Dani watched Anna’s mouth form the words then followed her gaze to Rena’s bobbing head.

“What’s the occasion?” A silver butterfly bounced amid the rings on Rena’s left ear.

“Our rehearsal dinner. We have the venue, but we haven’t decided on the menu. Everything here is so yummy.”

As they volleyed food words—vermicelli, mostaccioli, parmesan, and penne—over her head, Dani stared at the house across the street and contemplated how and why every aspect of her life seemed entwined, like a ridiculous strand of spaghetti that began and ended at Bracciano.

Movement caught her eye across the street. A man walked out of the downstairs apartment where China had lived. He pushed a F
OR
R
ENT
sign into the ground. Without a conscious reason for her action, Dani entered the number on the sign into her phone.

“I’ll go see if my dad’s free to talk to you.” Rena’s voice brought her back into the moment. “Not sure Nicky’s going to show. He’s in the middle of fixing our fryer.”

Dani nodded. It had been Rena’s suggestion, not hers, to compliment the baker face-to-face.

Rena left and Anna leaned forward. “Who’s Nicky?”

Swallow. Speak.
“Rena’s older brother. He’s one of the cooks. I met him while I was doing a story.”

Anna flipped flat-ironed platinum bangs. “You are so going to tell me everything this aft—”

“Benvenuto.”

A man in his late forties or early fifties stepped up to the table between Anna and Jon. “I’m Carlo Fiorini. So glad you could join us today. My daughter tells me there is going to be a wedding. Which one of you beautiful women is the bride?”

Dark eyes framed by thick black lashes stared out of a face lined with life experience. If Nicky looked like this in twenty-plus years, he’d still be causing women to tumble out of their shoes.

Anna raised her left hand and wiggled her fingers. Even inside, the square rock attracted sunlight.

“Congratulazioni.”

“We’re looking for a caterer for a rehearsal dinner. About forty people in all.”

“Wonderful. My son and I would love to sit down with you and—and here he is.”

The room tilted as Dani stared up at damp hair combed straight back from a perfectly chiseled face.

Rena popped up behind him with a pitcher of water. She bent low as she filled Dani’s glass. “World’s fastest showerer.”

The room righted. “N—Nicky, I’d like you to meet my friend Anna Nelson and her fiancé, Jon Weber, and this is Evan Carr, he’s a pho…tog…”

Across the street, the man who’d put up the sign held his hand out to a girl with long black hair.

Dani pushed back her chair and stood. “Excuse me.”

“Don’t.” Nicky’s hand clamped on her arm.

She tried to pull away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Or dead.” Eyes locked on hers, he let her go.

O
ne foot off the curb, Dani waited for a line of cars. As the last one neared, China looked up.

Stay there.
Dani darted toward the back fender of the passing car and stepped into the street half a breath behind the rear bumper.

The man hammered the top of the sign. China turned her chin to the right and folded her arms across her belly.

Dani slowed her strides, kept her arms down, palms up. Four feet away, she stopped. “Are you okay?”

Tears gathered. No mascara rimmed the reddened eyes. Seconds passed. China turned, gaze landing on Dani’s arm. “Are you?”

“I’m fine.”

The man walked back toward the house.

“Turned my keys in.”

Dani nodded. “I was afraid you’d be in juvie. I’m glad—”

“Miguel wasn’t a bad person.” Dark tendrils framing China’s face quivered. Her breath shuddered. “No one ever loved him until me. He didn’t know how to give back. I thought I could show him. I thought I could make him feel whole. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t—”

“It wasn’t your job.” Dani took a step toward her.

“It was his mother’s job. A mother should love her child no matter what. No matter what people tell her, she should love her baby.” She looked up, eyes glazed, her face expressionless.

“China, Miguel was—”

“Maybe it
was
my job to make him whole, and I just didn’t do it right. Maybe I didn’t listen like I should. Maybe if I’d heard things he wasn’t saying, picked up on things, I could have made it all right. If I had more time…”

“No one can do that for another person. It’s not our place to make someone else feel whole.” She sucked in a breath. “Only God can do that.”

China raised her chin. Tears coursed down pale cheeks. Dull eyes met Dani’s. “Then why didn’t He?”

Dani opened her mouth, took another step, and stretched out her hand.

“You think you have the answers. You don’t.” China shook her head then turned and ran.

Strong hands grasped Dani’s shoulders.

Evan.
Always there when I—

“You said what she needed to hear.”

Nicky.
His breath feathered her cheek. Heart slamming her ribs, she didn’t move, just breathed in the fresh-showered smell of him.

“I shouldn’t have tried to stop you. You knew what you were doing. This time.”

“I wish.”

“You did the right thing.” He paused. A long, breath-tickling-cheek moment. “But you still don’t have any street smarts.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “It takes a woman making a fool of herself to make you smile.”

His grip tightened. “Not this time. This time it took a woman doing what she believes in.”

“Whoooo is he?”

Anna stood in the doorway of her apartment, not bothering to invite Dani in or even to waste breath on common courtesies like “Hello.”

“He’s just a guy who’s giving me some info for a story.”

“Right. And Jon’s just a guy I hang out with once in a while.” Anna stepped back, opening the door wide. “You have approximately ten minutes until my mother gets back to tell me how you met, how many times you’ve seen him, every word he’s said, and what his intentions are.”

Dani tumbled inside, kicked her shoes off, and followed Anna onto the balcony overlooking a courtyard. A glass-topped table held wedding books, fabric swatches, a plate of cookies, and a pitcher of lemonade.

“You’re the perfect hostess.”

“Thank you. I was just sitting here imagining the courtyard with banquet tables, lots of candlelight, floral centerpieces to match my colors, and a buffet of the best Italian food I’ve ever eaten, cooked by a guy you haven’t told me about yet.” She filled two glasses, thrust one at Dani, and sat down. “Sit. Spill.”

Settling into a white wicker chair, Dani took a long drink. She pulled her phone out of her purse, set it on the arm of the chair, smoothed her blouse, and smiled coyly.

Anna glared. “Talk. Fast.”

Dani held the glass to her forehead. Leaving out trespassing in the apartment, she recapped the story, starting with the call from China. When she got to the part about Nicky saving her, and her shoe, from a near nosedive, Anna stopped her.

“That’s so Cinderella-ish.”

“Yeah. He said that, too.”

“He called you Cinderella?”

She moved the glass to her cheek and nodded.

“So what’s next? What’s going on in your head? When are you going to see him again?”

She’d save explaining the diary for later, when she knew what it was all about. “We didn’t make any plans. I needed some facts about the history of the restaurant, and he was going to check with his dad—”

“Who, by the way, is like
wow.
He’s old and I’m happily almost married, but the man made my knees weak. What a charmer. ‘Which one of you beautiful ladies is the bride?’ That whole accent thing… Okay, back to Nicky. You like him, of course. But how much?”

Dani slid the glass to the side of her neck. “Can you imagine how many girls are standing in line for a date with a guy who looks like that?”

“Who cares? Just get to the head of the line and stay there.”

Closing her eyes, Dani shook her head. “You’re a lousy accountability partner.”

“I am not. I’m keeping you from talking yourself out of what just might be God’s will for your life.”

“How about focusing your energies on talking me out of a guy I have absolutely nothing in common with?” Her phone dinged. “I have no idea what he believes. I don’t know if he’s ever even been out of Kenosha. He works six nights a week.” She picked up her phone. “We’re from opposite sides of the tracks, completely different backgrounds. Not that
I
care, but can you imagine me telling my parents I’m going out with a guy who makes pasta for a living?” She touched the screen. “And why are we having this conversation, anyway? I have no idea if he’s even interes…ted.” She stared down at the text.

A
RE YOU BUSY
M
ONDAY
N
IGHT
? T
HOUGHT WE COULD READ SOME MORE
. A
FTER TAPAS AT
P
AZZO’S
.

“Him?” Anna jumped out of her chair and bent over Dani’s shoulder. “Yep. You’re right. I need to save you from possible heartache. Let’s go shopping Monday night and then go get manis and pedis and—”

“Not on your life.”

Her phone rang as she pulled out of Anna’s driveway. She answered without looking at it.

“Dani? This is Todd. Metzger? The policeman?”

“Yes.”
Uh…
“Hi, Todd, how are you?”
And what do you want with me?

“This is really late notice, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in going to the coffeehouse thing at my church tonight. I’m only playing a few sets, so it’s not like I’d leave you stranded all night. It starts at seven. I could pick you up.” He laughed. “Guess I should have stopped at ‘Would you be interested?’ and let you answer.”