She comes to give us each a kiss on the cheek.
“Halibut?” Holden frowns. “What’s the occasion?”
“No reason,” Amelia says quickly. “But your aunt and uncle are coming, right? That’s the perfect occasion. We’re lucky we weren’t having ribs from that grease pit River loves so much.”
She gives me a playful nudge and I ease a sigh of relief that she’s deflected Holden’s suspicions. For now.
My sister is nineteen and pretty in my eyes. Not only for her physical beauty—she looks more like Mom every day—but because she’s healthy. Her smile comes easily like it used to. The grief is still there—it’s in all of us—but it shows now as a depth in her eyes instead of a shadow.
From the kitchen, I see Dad on the back patio wearing an apron that says, Boss of the Sauce.
Like Amelia, he looks healthy. More whole. The three of us have been attending grief counseling at the Medical Center and the change in him has been tangible. He’s abandoned the den and now works at the shop nearly every day. He says he’ll never date again, and I don’t push him, even though I worry about him being alone after Amelia starts school. But she’s p
romised our Dad to spend most weekends and summers at home.
And he’s welcome at our home any time.
“There they are,” Dad says, shutting the screen behind him and coming to give Holden a hug. He winks at me over his shoulder—which means Amelia spilled the beans to him. “I hear your aunt and uncle are joining us.”
“Hope that’s okay, Jerry. Not a lot of advance warning. For me either, come to think of it.”
“Of course, it’s okay,” Dad says. “More family the merrier.”
On cue, we hear the front door open and Beatriz calls from the entry.
“Hello? I am coming in.”
I grin, and Holden goes to greet the woman who’s been—until today—the only family Holden’s ever had. When he came back to Santa Cruz, she was the first visit he made after me. I wasn’t there to see their reunion, but Holden came back with his eyes puffy and red but happy. Another broken piece falling back into place.
Holden returns from the front with Beatriz, her hand tucked in the crook of his arm.
Like she might when she walks him down the aisle?
I rein in the thoughts that are too dangerously hopeful. Holden has spent most of his life in a prison of some kind or another—a loveless house, Alaska, the sanitarium… Maybe it’s asking too much, too soon.
Amelia reads my expression and pulls me aside while Dad greets Beatriz with a kiss on the cheek. “Second thoughts?”
“None. Except, what if—?”
“No chance.”
“It’s only been a year…”
“A year and a hundred lifetimes,” Amelia says. “I see it. Everyone sees it. How much you love each other…it’s the most beautiful thing.”
“I wish Mom could see it.”
“She can.” Amelia gives my arm a squeeze. “She sees everything.”
“River, meu doce menino,” Beatriz says and comes over to pat my cheek. “You are looking very handsome tonight, doesn’t he?” she asks the room, her hands over her heart.
I laugh and bend to kiss her cheek. “Hello, Beatriz. So happy to see you.”
She takes my face in her hands. “Meu Deus. Look at your man!” she says to Holden. “So beautiful tonight. What is the occasion? Is it my birthday?”
I shoot Amelia a panicked look and she swoops in to take Beatriz to the kitchen with Dad, asking her advice on the wild rice.
Holden leans his shoulder into mine. “Nothing like watching your seventy-year old auntie lust after your boyfriend.”