Page 42 of Summer Rush

“But he cheated on her,” Maggie pointed on.

Janine gave Maggie a pointed look. She wanted to translate that just because Rex had cheated on Maggie, and just because Jack had cheated on Janine, and just because so many people had wronged so many others across the centuries upon centuries of human relationships, that didn’t mean there had never been love. It didn’t negate the love that had come before, either.

“He loved his son,” Janine said quietly. “He loved him more than I can possibly describe. When Jack lost his dad, well, he wasn’t the same after that. Theirs was a bond that went beyond birth certificates. And gosh, this is messy. But for some reason, Teresa wanted Jack to know the truth. But he died not knowing.”

ChapterSeventeen

Teresa’s lawyer came over to the villa that night to congratulate them on completing the hunt. It did not feel joyful— but it did feel as though they’d accomplished something, which maybe had to be enough. The lawyer went on to explain just how little money Teresa had so late in her life and that her only reasonable offerings in terms of inheritances were located within that very villa, plus the villa itself. This wasn’t entirely a surprise, especially when the lawyer explained the economy in Italy right now and the fact that families like the Cacciapaglias had wonderfully historical names but not a lot else.

It was Alyssa’s idea to make the villa into a sort of museum. “If this secret society really had such an effect on Maria’s life, then they probably conducted other evils. We should dedicate the museum to people like Maria, people who attempted to serve a power greater than themselves but got caught up in their game.”

After a bit of digging, Nico suggested that when Teresa returned from the United States, she remained partially involved with the secret society. Rumors circulated that she was partially to blame for the secret society’s downfall. “We can get to the bottom of that story. That’s what your museum should be about,” he said.

To this, Alyssa said, “You should be in charge of the museum, Nico. You have the researching skills and the background for it.” She then turned toward Janine for back-up, and Janine nodded whole-heartedly, loving watching her daughter take charge like this.

Although it was suggested that they change their flights and head back to Martha’s Vineyard in a few more days, Alyssa eventually was the one to call it. “I have to bite the bullet and say goodbye to Nico eventually. It might as well be tomorrow.”

Before they headed to the airport the following morning, Nico met them at the villa, where he took Alyssa on a long walk through the canals.

“I can only imagine how romantic he is with her,” Maggie said with a sad laugh as Janine gathered her suitcase and carried it downstairs for her, unwilling to let her pregnant daughters carry anything.

“You must be excited to see David,” Janine said, turning as she set down the suitcase in the foyer.

“I am,” Maggie said softly. “Are you excited to see Henry?”

“I can’t wait.”

On the couch, Nancy stared out the window at the beautiful, early-September morning, at the sunlight that glimmered on the canals so far from home. She’d come all the way to Italy with a potential lover, and she’d leave only with her family. Janine hoped she’d find a way through this.

Four hours out across the ocean, as they closed their airplane window blinds against the splintering daylight, Alyssa burst into tears. Quietly, Maggie told her sister it would be all right, that she and Nico could keep in touch, and that all was not lost.

To this, Alyssa whispered, “I just realized how terrified I am of everything that comes next. I was hiding from my pregnancy and the childbirth and the baby coming, throwing myself into Teresa’s game as a distraction. And now? Everything is crashing down.” She tried to laugh, but it only made her cry more.

Maggie’s voice was even softer now. “You don’t have to stay with me and the babies. You really don’t. You never agreed to that.”

But Alyssa was adamant. “You’re my everything, Maggie. I could never leave you and the babies.”

Behind them, Janine’s heart shattered over and over into a million pieces, until Nancy reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she mouthed. Janine realized, then, that her cheeks were streaked with tears.

When the plane touched down in Boston, more than three weeks after their departure, almost every single member of their family met them at Arrivals. Elsa, Bruce, Mallory, Cole, Aria, Carmella, baby Georgia, David, and, of course, Henry waved their arms and covered them with hugs. After such a long flight, it was momentarily overwhelming. But the comfort of their love was grounding, like falling into bed after a long day.

Henry, especially, was a gorgeous sight to see. It was chillier in Boston, in the lower sixties, and he wore a ball cap and a button-down and wrapped his arms around Janine, kissing her on the forehead, then the cheek, then the lips.

“You’ve had a wild adventure, haven’t you?” he breathed into her ear, and she shivered against him.

“After all that chaos, I think I’m ready to get married now,” she told him, surprising herself.

Henry laughed. “That’s music to my ears.”

And in his car that evening, as the sunlight dimmed across the Atlantic, Janine held his hand and leaned her head against the car seat, listening to the soft rhythm of Henry’s words as he talked about his documentary, about everything she’d missed when she’d been away, and of the upcoming autumn season, during which they could finally, finally rest after the chaos of the summer.

And, Janine thought now of Jack, of how, for a brief moment in time, years ago, she’d felt similarly safe with him. He’d been the son of two long-deceased Italians, the names of whom she’d only just learned. And maybe it was a tragedy that he’d never gotten to know that. But she had, and she would carry his story for him, whether he deserved it or not.

ChapterEighteen

During the second week of September, the Athens, Greece authorities contacted Nancy. The number that flashed up on her cell phone was surprising, the country and area code nothing she recognized, but she answered it to hear a somber, precise-sounding Greek woman say, “Is this Nancy Remington?”

“It is.”

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