Page 119 of Look on the Bright Side

Traffic was not as wretched as usual, and Lark made it to Boston in plenty of time, parked her car in a garage, since she couldn’t trust street parking anymore. She even had enough time to stop at a Roxy’s food truck for a grilled cheese, then ate it as she walked through the Common toward Mass General. Families were out in force, little kids running and shrieking, people walking their dogs, sitting on blankets, eating, laughing. A Boston Fire engine went by, sirens blaring, and she flushed abruptly. Chances were low that Dante was on that one, but it was possible, of course.

It had been two nights since she’d sat in Lorenzo’s kitchen. No communication from any other Santini, though, aside from a text from Izzy about possibly going to a movie sometime before the wedding. That would be nice.

She found herself at a bench she and Justin had frequented in their college days here. They’d brought the Yorkshire Breakfast Hamper to the Common quite often. She sat down and finished her sandwich, feeling a slight melancholy.

She missed Justin. She missed his lovely, gentle smell—pencils and pine needles and rain. She missed his loud laugh, his inky black hair, his eyes crinkling as he looked at her. She missed his weight on top of her; his soft, wonderful lips; the way he called her little bird with such love.

But she was also forgetting him.

Seven years. Seven years. Every day was a step away from their life together. That would never change. She would only get further and further from him. She would never marry him, and oh, God, how she had wanted to be his wife. How she had wanted ordinary days with him. She wasn’t even his widow. She was just someone who used to be a fiancée.

Someone who used to be.

It wasn’t enough anymore. He was gone, and she…she wanted more. Until this summer, she hadn’t been able to picture what that looked like. But pretending to be Lorenzo’s girlfriend had given her a glimpse of the kind of future she’d never been able to picture. Someone’s partner. A sister-in-law. Daughter-in-law. Lorenzo was handsome as anything, but her ovaries hadn’t so much as twitched, given his personality.

Dante…different story. That kiss had made her weak and soft and reminded her that she was a healthy, heterosexual female in prime breeding years. That kiss—both kisses—had made her remember what it felt like to want someone. To feel connected again. The flame that had burned so strong for Justin had finally flickered.

It would be devastating if Lorenzo was right, and Dante had kissed her in some kind of revenge move.

There was one way to find out. But she’d come here for that lecture, so she got up and walked to the hall. For the next hour, she listened to developments in cancer detection tools, taking notes, paying close attention, pulling out her phone to google a few terms she hadn’t heard before.

“We will end cancer in our lifetime,” the guest doctor said at the end. “And you sitting here…you’ll be part of that. It will be the greatest medical breakthrough in human history.”

Everyone clapped, and Lark’s throat felt tight. That had been the goal since Lark was an adolescent. Treat cancer. Stop cancer. Cure cancer. Eradicate cancer. God, she hoped the doctor’s words would be true. But whether or not she’d be part of it…that was flickering, too.

Then she went outside, took a few breaths of the muggy night air, and texted Dante.

Hi, it’s Lark. Are you in Boston? I was wondering if I could talk to you.

Almost immediately, the three dots began waving.

I’m home. You okay?

There was that question again. The immediate concern for her. Yep. Can I pop over?

Of course.

His address appeared on the screen. Her phone said it would take her twenty minutes to get there.

In fact, it took eighteen. His house was rather ordinary, a gray two-family with blue shutters. He greeted her at the door.

“Hey,” he said. His hair was damp, and he smelled like…heaven. His feet were bare. Apparently, he’d just showered. Possibly because she was coming.

“Hi,” she said. “Sorry to just appear like this.”

“No, it’s great. Come on in.”

She followed him into a surprisingly lovely living room—fireplace with built-in shelves encasing it, paneled ceiling, big iron radiators. It was sparsely furnished with a couch, a recliner and a coffee table, a big TV on the wall. To the left was an empty dining room. An arched entryway led to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“Water, beer, coffee? I might have a Coke somewhere.”

“Water’s good. Thanks, Dante.”

He left the room, and she went to the fireplace. On the mantel and bookshelves were pictures of his family, and that…that got to her. Little Izzy, Dante and Sofia, first day of school, maybe, all of them with backpacks and lunch boxes, the girls looking very proud, Dante pulling a face. His parents dressed up for a function. An older couple she assumed to be Anita’s parents. The four kids, maybe ten years ago, Dante skinnier, Sofia gorgeous, Izzy in a miniskirt, Lorenzo looking stiff and irritable. A black and white dog chewing on something blue.

---