Page 73 of Chloé

Chloé sniffed and dug around for the tissue in her pocket. “Is that what you do now? Remember the good times?”

“Most of the time.”

“But not today,” she guessed. “I can see it in your eyes.”

He nodded. “Today is a little harder. Seeing you and your family grieve brings back feelings of my own.”

Chloé entwined their fingers, feeling more connected to Ethan in that moment than she ever had before.

“Will you talk to me? Let me help you, the way you just did me?”

“Today isn’t about me. It’s about you and your family. Your pop.”

“You’re right. It’s about family and grieving, and being there to comfort those we love who are hurting.You’rehurting.”

“So are you.” Ethan looked down at her, and Chloé knew right then that this was the road to healing. Sharing in another’s grief, loving them through it, and being there for one another when you came out the other side.

“Ethan? Trust me. Let it out.” She repeated his own words back to him. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

“ALL RIGHT, ETHAN, what flavor do you want?”

Ethan ran up the boardwalk of the little fishing village in Sorrento, and stopped by his dad where he stood in front of a gelato stand. They’d passed it nearly an hour ago on their way down to one of the local piers, where they’d found a spot and watched the fishing boats and ferries go by all afternoon.

He peered through the glass window of the refrigerated stand at the colorful tubs of gelato and felt his mouth water. His parents had been doing their best to teach him some Italian while they were on vacation. But no matter how many times they got him to repeat things back, it just hadn’t stuck.

Except for one thing: “Can I have thecioccolato?”

“The same flavor you had last night?”

“Yeah. It was super yum.” And the only thing he could kind of say.

His dad chuckled and mussed his hair up. “Are you sure you don’t want to try something new? You can have anything you like.”

Ethan looked back through the glass again and read:fragola,nocciola,limone, andvaniglia. But nah, he was sticking with what he knew.

“I’ll just have thecioccolato.” Because seriously, who could mess up chocolate?

“You got it. Did Mom tell you what she wanted?”

“The same.”

“Well, that’s easy enough. Guess I’m going to have to be the adventurous one.” His dad reached into the back of his shorts and pulled out his wallet. Then he went about ordering one cup ofnocciolagelato and twocioccolatosin perfect Italian.

“Grazie,”the stand owner said as he slid the small paper cups with two scoops in each onto the counter.

Ethan waited patiently while his dad put his wallet away, and once his hands were free, he gave Ethan his cup and picked up the other two.

“Right. Ready to go find Mom?”

Ethan grinned and scooped up some of the cool gelato, sucking it off the spoon, as they made their way down the boardwalk.

His mom had decided to look at some of the local shops while they were getting their afternoon treat, and as they strolled past several restaurants opening for the night, they spotted her across the road in one of the antique stores.

In the afternoon sunlight, her blue dress and big white brimmed hat stood out amongst the locals who were walking by, making it easy to spot her through the crowds. But even without that, the smile she was aiming toward the store owner was what really made her impossible to miss.

It was bright and happy, full of joy, as she picked up a bowl off one of the tables and took a closer look. The store owner came over to her, and they talked for several minutes, Mom laughing at something the man said as he reached for a second bowl and pointed to both.

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