Page 13 of Shadow Scorching

“I agree,” Tilly said. “He was always good to me. He never made me feel inadequate. I was surprised that when Kelson died, that he left us the mantle of family elders. By then, Dante’sgrandmother had died. When Gino died, the mantle fell on my shoulders, and I became the matriarch.”

“So, whydidyou support Dante, if you uphold the traditions?”

“As I said, I married into the family, and I know how hard it is to make an arranged marriage work. Gino and I were lucky—we had similar visions and temperaments. But that doesn’t happen often. Also, times have changed since we married. I’m slowly but surely trying to move our clan into the present.”

Now I understood. Tilly was a quiet revolutionary, making change from within. She might believe in tradition, but she knew when it was time to progress.

Sounding tired, she continued. “Backing Dante’s choice to say no seemed important. While his parents have disowned him, I outrank them And while they can do as they like, I’m the one whose opinion counts.”

“Are we wearing you out?” I said, suddenly aware that she looked exhausted.

Dante noticed the lack of energy, too. “Auntie, are you all right?”

Tilly let out a long sigh. “I’ve had a long day. And eventually, age takes the lead, and no matter how hard you try, the body grows weary.” She glanced at our plates. “Are you ready for dessert?”

I wanted to ask more about Jet, but it was obvious that Tilly was tired and needed to rest. “Yes, thank you,” I said.

Dante kicked me under the table, but I gave him a warning shake of the head.

“Trifle sounds lovely,” was all he said.

As we ended the evening and I kissed Tilly on the cheek, she leaned in to whisper, “I know my nephew is worried about me. But he shouldn’t be concerned. Jet’s in love with me. Gino was a wonderful man, but he and I…we weren’t truly in love.”

And right there, I understood why such a sharp lady was overlooking red flags. Love—the strongest of desires and emotions—had come to call, and Tilly had answered. She had never known what it was like to be loved, not in that all-consuming way, and now it was blurring out every warning sign.

I kissed her cheek, slid my arm through Dante’s, and we said goodnight.

CHAPTER FIVE

On the wayto our cars, Dante started to grumble.

“That didn’t do any good,” he said.

“Yes, it did. We have his name—Jet Shy, from Singapore. And I don’t think your aunt is losing her mind. Nor is she nearing dementia. I knowwhyshe’s resistant to listening to your warnings.” I leaned against my car.

“What do you mean?” Dante shivered. “Can we get in? It’s cold.”

“Let’s go to a coffee shop. I don’t want Tilly noticing we’re still in her driveway. She’ll know we’re talking to her.” I held up my keys. “Meet me at Barista Heaven.”

The coffee shop was open till midnight. It was in Seattle, but traffic was light at this time of night, unless there was a football game.

“I’ll see you in about twenty minutes,” Dante said, waiting till I was safe in my car. As I pulled out of the driveway and eased my way up the narrow road leading to the street, the sound of the waves along the waterfront seemed to whisper goodbye.

The tripback over the 520 floating bridge wasn’t quite the harrowing trip it used to be, before they had replaced the bridge. But still, driving across a windswept lake that was frothing wildly in the icy breeze was a little daunting.

I opened my window and breathed in the chill air. There was a hint of snow on the wind—that tang of ozone that happened before both thundershowers and snowstorms. The temperature had dropped, it was now pushing thirty-four degrees. I closed the window again and corrected for the wind. Focused on keeping my vehicle from hydroplaning, I slowed down to thirty miles per hour as a particularly nasty gust rocked the car.

Ten minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Barista Heaven. Dante had made it here before me, and I could see him waiting inside the coffee shop. I grabbed my purse and stepped out of my car. The next moment, a snowflake landed on my arm, then another on my face. The clouds had shifted to silver, and in the glow of the streetlights, snowflakes began to fall among the sleeting rain.

I watched for a moment, transfixed. I always loved the snow—it blanketed the world, cloaking the grit and grim with a cleansing veil. After a moment, a snowflake landed on my cheek, startling me out of my thoughts, and I jogged over to the entrance, pushing the door open.

Dante already had his drink, so I stopped at the counter to order a hot cocoa. I’d had enough caffeine for the day and wasn’t planning on staying up the rest of the night. I carried my cocoa and a chocolate chip cookie over to the table and sat down.

“It’s snowing,” I said, giving him a wide grin.

“And you love it,” he said. “Do you think it will stick?”

“I don’t know, but it’s beautiful.” I stretched back in my chair, then quickly adjusted my legs. “Damn, I think I’m going to get rid of all my short dresses. This is annoying.”

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