Page 106 of Lost in the Moonlight

“Lincoln—”

“Besides, there’s a chance this may have nothing to do with you. This actually may be about me.”

I shook my head, and he stopped it by pulling me to his side so he could look at both my mother and me as he said, “The notes and the damage to the café could have been someone Felicity Bradshaw hired.”

“The actress?” Mom asked incredulously.

“I don’t know if you heard, but I had to get a restraining order against her. She hired someone to follow me, break into my computers and phones. I’d thought things with her had finally calmed down. But the wording of the notes, the fact that they came after Willow once she’d been seen with me…”

I hated to even think it was true. I didn’t want Lincoln to carry one more burden. If something happened to me, and he thought it was his fault, it would destroy him.

I grabbed his hand. “How could she have found out about us so quickly? We’ve barely been seen together.”

“If she had someone following me again. Remember the gray sedan? The guy I ran into downtown?” His throat bobbed. “If it’s her, I promise you, she’ll wish she’d never heard of me or you by the time I’m done with her.”

“Even if it is her, this still isn’t on you.”

Mom reached around me to squeeze Lincoln’s arm. “Listen to me, Lincoln. You’re not responsible for her obsession any more than we’re responsible for the Viceroys’ hate. If we take on that responsibility, we give them power over us. This easily could be Aaron Vitale wanting revenge. Not only for his brother dying, but because his entire world is crumbling due to the RICO case. All we can do is be as safe as possible. We can protect ourselves, but what I won’t allow is for Willow, or anyone in a relationship with her, to take on that hatred and evil as if they could have controlled it and failed. From what I’ve heard, from what I can tell, you’re a good man. I know my daughter is a good human. Let that goodness surround you and not their darkness.”

The oven timer went off, and I moved away from them with reluctance to pull the manicotti from the oven. The smell of basil and tomatoes filled the air along with melted mozzarella. The toasting of the cheese was flawless, the mix of colors making a vibrant picture. It would have brought more pleasure if the heaviness in the air wasn’t so strong.

I set it on the stove to rest and turned to the rosemary bread I’d baked, slicing it while Mom pulled the strawberry-walnut salad I’d tossed earlier from the refrigerator. Lincoln asked what he could do to help and when we both told him to just take a seat at the table, he did.

Wine glasses were filled, plates loaded, and we’d all sat down when the reality slammed into me. Mom and I weren’t alone. We had a guest.Myguest. A man Iloved.

My heart kicked fiercely, spinning and soaring and sending the heaviness of our discussion skyward.

This. I wanted to keep this. The pleasure of having the people I cared most about seated around a table with me. The only thing that would be better is if Hector and Shay were there too.

New determination filled me. I’d have that. I’d have it all.

I might not know how yet, but I would keep this life and this beautiful man.

They were mine, and I refused to let Aaron or Poco or even Felicity send them from me.

While we ate, Mom and Lincoln chatted amiably, sharing the ins and outs of their lives in a way that sent more thrills through me. I wanted them to know and love each other as much as I loved them.

Mom talked about the kids winning at State, and he talked about the gallery and his dad’s election. By the time we’d cleared our plates, it felt like we’d been doing this for months if not years.

“I’ve never had better manicotti,” Lincoln said. “I see what you meant about the garlic. I didn’t miss it at all.”

“Don’t get her started,” Mom said, lips twitching. “We’ll be hearing about how America brutalizes authentic cuisine for hours.”

I rolled my eyes, but Lincoln just said. “I’d be happy to listen to Willow talk for hours.”

“Wow,” Mom said, fanning herself with her hand as a full smile took over her face. “You really are too much.” She pushed away from the table, carrying her empty plate to the sink. “I’m going over to Hector’s. When I talked to him earlier, I told him I’d be by after dinner.”

My eyes locked with Mom’s. They hadn’t really been able to talk earlier because he’d been busy at the café. While I hoped their conversation didn’t end in a broken heart for her and joblessness for me, I also had to believe that Hector saw the truth of us past all the lies.

I got up and gave her a hug, and told her the same thing she’d told me earlier. “It’s going to be okay.”

She hugged me back. “You’re right. It is. I can feel it.”

She opened the music box on the counter and pulled two envelopes out.

“After Willow’s dad was diagnosed with FFI, and he knew he wasn’t going to live long, he decided to write letters I could give her at the important moments in her life.” Mom’s voice choked. “He’d intended to write a whole cart full of them, but these are the only two he’d finished before he was killed.”

My eyes filled automatically as much from the flash of grief in Mom’s expression as her words. She’d never even hinted I had letters from Dad waiting for me.

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