Her eyebrows scrunched together as she took me in. “Okay.”
Nodding, I turned to Maria and, for the hundredth time, wrapped her in my arms. “I’m so sorry, Maria. He loved you so much.” I swallowed, holding back the emotion, trying to escape. “I’m here for whatever you need.” Maria trembled as she let out a shuddering breath into my neck.
We hugged for maybe longer than was appropriate, the church silent as we had our moment. I wouldn’t be the one letting go. This was for Maria. The church full of people could wait until this grieving wife was ready to stand on her own.
When Maria’s hold loosened, she discreetly wiped her eyes and grabbed Mrs. Abate’s hand. The older woman softened as she brought her daughter-in-law to her side. The three of us shared one more sad look, and I returned to my seat. No one moved to give another speech, so the priest dismissed us. Luca raised an eyebrow, and he leaned down and kissed me on my forehead, murmuring into my skin, “Good job.”
Outside the church, Rosa joined us, and we stood behind Mrs. Abate and Maria as people gave her their condolences. Then we followed her out and joined them in the town car right behind the hearse. Rosa told me Mrs. Abate was a second cousin of Dante Sr., and her husband had passed. Pete was her only child, so his death left her with only Maria.
“How are you doing, Flo?” Rosa asked, patting her hand.
“I’m ready for today to be over.” Her deep, smokey voice surprised me.
“Well, don’t worry about the repast. We have it handled.”
“Thank you.” Her voice didn’t waiver for a moment.
We rode in silence until we reached the cemetery. Luca got out first, then helped his mother and Maria, leaving me alone with Flo.
“What you said about my Pete was nice.” She patted my knee. “You’re a good girl.”
It was the first time anyone had ever called me a good girl and meant it in a nonsexual way. Completely gobsmacked, I slid out of the car and held Luca’s hand to the gravesite. The first tremors spread through Mrs. Abate’s body when the pallbearers pulled the casket from the hearse. Her chin dipped, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Maria quickly curved around her, sharing her strength.
My own eyes burned, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t hear anything the priest said because I was so focused on Mrs. Abate. The woman that had been so calm and collected at the church crumbled in Maria’s shaking arms. Their sobs and cries became loud enough to drown out the prayers.
Biting my lip, I held back tears. I had no business blubbering, but watching Pete’s mother and wife fall apart broke my heart.
The ride to the Abate’s house was a blur. Flo and Maria whimpered and wiped at their eyes while Luca sat in stony silence. He escorted us into the generous two-story brick home, then disappeared to God knows where.
“Can I make you a plate?” I asked Flo as I got her set up in the living room in what seemed to be her chair.
“I’m not really hungry.”
I persisted. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“That sounds great. Thank you.”
“Maria?”
“I’m fine.”
I left them to chat, running into at least six people that introduced themselves. I twisted my hands, anxious to get to the refreshments, making my apologies and dodging more people to get Mrs. Abate a coffee.
The whole day crashed in on me as I stood in line, staring into the distance, wondering where Luca went.
“Oh, sorry!” A small body bumped into my legs, and I looked down into warm, brown eyes.
“Dante.” He grinned up at me, and I hugged him to my hip. “Where’s your mom?”
“Somewhere around here. She told me to come find you.”
I scanned the room and found her standing very close to Marco, frowning while he yammered on about something. “You hungry?”
The impatient nine-year-old sighed and rolled his eyes. “Always.”
Ruffling his hair, I pointed him toward the buffet. “Go make a plate and find somewhere to sit out of the way. I’ll find you in a bit.”
“Okay!” And he zipped away, adults dodging him but not saying a damn thing to the Moretti prince.