“Oh.” After a moment, I regained my composure and offered gently, “I’m doing okay.”
“You sure? Because I can help out if you need me to.”
The way he said it, both willing and sincere, made my heart warm. My face softened and a small smile revealed itself. “I’m sure, but thank you for the offer.” For the first time since I’d known him, I did something I felt I couldn’t do before now. I reached out and placed my hand on his, giving it a light squeeze. “That’s sweet of you.”
The compliment made him prickly. He pulled away from me, but leisurely enough that it wouldn’t offend. “Yeah, well, in this family…”
I finished the Scala motto for him. “We bleed together.”
He paused then and we exchanged a look. One of mutual understanding. And the tension between us eased some.
Daniele said, “Right.” He tapped a knuckle against the island, straightened then uttered, “Well, you got my number.” He made for the back door. “Use it.”
He definitely put no effort into making it sound touching and yet, I was moved. Deeply. “Alright. I will.”
I waved him off as he made his exit and I stood there a minute wondering why I felt such a shift from the whole painful back and forth. And then it hit me.
Up until this very moment, I wasn’t fully accepted by Tor’s family.
And with that realization, and Daniele’s departure, I felt a tremendous weight lift off of my shoulders and float away.
* * *
I often talked to Amara.Whenever I cleaned the house and came across something of hers, I took care to be gentle with it. My jealousy over the ghost of Ettore’s first wife had long faded and now, as I lived in her house, enjoying her family, I felt a sort of kinship with the woman, even having never met her.
When Tor and I would fight, I complained to her, knowing she would have understood my side of things. When the kids were misbehaving, I prayed for her to send me strength. And when I was feeling particularly low, I asked her for guidance.
Between the photos and home movies, I felt as though I knew her, and the older Ella got, the more I saw of Amara in her.
“Do you think she would have liked me?” I asked Tor one night in bed as I ran my fingers over the light smatter of hair at his chest.
Brutally honest, as Tor was, he stroked my spine and shook his head. “Nah, baby. She would have torn you to pieces.”
And maybe I was addled, because the smile I wore stretched wide.
On our first wedding anniversary, Tor and I spent a quiet night at home with the kids and we had already decided there was no need for gifts. So, when Tor sprung one on me, I was a little peeved. But when I opened the inconspicuous brown paper package, I found my annoyance ebb away.
I held the frame to my chest and felt it tighten, along with my throat. “How did you know?”
My loving husband simply responded, “I pay attention.”
I watched him approach the mantle and still as he peered into the face of his first wife and my heart ached. With a heavy exhale, he reached out to remove the wedding photo and put ours up in its place, but I found myself saying, “Leave it up.”
I never planned on replacing her. She was more a part of this family than I and she deserved to be acknowledged. She would always have a place here.
Tor turned to me and his brows creased. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I replied with zero hesitation.
My smile softened as Tor moved the frame and placed our only wedding photo beside it, blending old with new. And when he moved back to my side, slipping one strong arm around me, together, we peered up at the mantle and I let out a deep satisfying breath.
“Alright,” Tor uttered reluctantly. “Maybe she would have liked you.”
My gaze warmed as I looked up at him. “I love you.”
He peered down at me devotedly. “‘Til death and beyond.”
The End.