Loving the Lawman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  If Saturday followed suit?

  Gianna and Carmen could count this venture as an initial success, with nine months before another cold, low-population winter took hold. Retailers in the north counted on spring, summer and fall to get them through winter. With the babies due, he knew Gianna wouldn’t be able to produce as much handmade clothing. Would she be able to find enough to keep the shelves filled?

  He hoped so. His phone rang midday and he picked it up. “Hey, Mom.”

  “I’m across the street at Vintage Place and having the time of my life,” Jenny Campbell declared.

  Seth groaned on purpose. “I do believe Addie and Cass both said to avoid the puffed-sleeve display.”

  Jenny’s voice tipped up in glee. “I bought three. I love puffed sleeves!”

  “We know, Mom. We all know.”

  “For your information, they’re coming back in style, so you hush,” she scolded. “And I’ve seen your closet, Seth. I don’t think you’re in any position to criticize.”

  He grinned at his end of the phone because his mother was correct. He liked looking all right, he supposed. But it wasn’t something he gave a lot of thought to.

  “Anyway, Tori is having the time of her life. She’s got a great outfit on—”

  “Gianna put it together for her.”

  Jenny’s voice said that was no surprise. “Well, it looks wonderful. And the hip scarf she’s sporting? Seth, she’s growing up.”

  He knew that. Dreaded it. But nature wasn’t interested in his abject fear of puberty. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Gianna or Tori?”

  Her spontaneous question made him laugh. “Both.”

  “Then yes. I brought food for later so you guys can celebrate and not cook. And I met Sofia and Rose.”

  “Did they steamroll you?”

  “They’re marvelous! I did make a surreptitious call to have a hearing check set up for Monday, but I most likely needed one anyway.”

  Seth laughed again. “Thanks for coming into town, Mom. And shopping. Gianna needs to make money if she’s going to pay my inflated rent and turn a profit.”

  Jenny came out the door of the shop, waved her phone in the air at him and hoisted two full shopping bags from the sidewalk across the street. “My pleasure, dear!”

  He waved back as she climbed into her car and edged away from the illegal parking spot she’d grabbed. In season, the sheriffs would have to ticket folks for parking in the wrong spots, but now? Mid-March? Everyone was glad for some economic upswing and an influx of people.

  At lunchtime he toted a loaded pizza into the apartment side of the Vintage Place building and parked it on the kitchen table.

  By suppertime he’d removed bags of winter-tree fall and debris from his yard, power washed the garage door and kept an easy watch across the street. As closing time drew near, he cleaned up, put on fresh clothes and headed across the street with twin bottles of sparkling grape juice to celebrate.

  As he started up the driveway a car pulled in next to him. A woman climbed out of the driver’s seat, barely gave him a glance and moved toward the shop door.

  “The shop just closed, ma’am.” Seth’s voice drew her attention and when she turned, the face she gave him said shopping didn’t make the short list.

  “I’m looking for Gianna Costanza.”

  Seth read the look, the posture, the tone, and kept his voice even. “For?”

  “None of your business. Is she here?”

  Whoa. This woman needed an attitude adjustment. Her voice rankled him. Her tough stance put his defenses on high alert. She drew her shoulders back, brought her chin up and he was pretty sure she was about to ream him out when the side porch door swung open. “Dad! Come on in. Grandma brought food and we had the best day ever!”

  Gianna appeared at Tori’s side, and Seth watched her face transform as she spotted him, then the woman off to his side. She paled and her throat convulsed. “Marie.”

  “You didn’t think to tell me?”

  The woman marched forward and Seth kept pace, ready to remove any threat to Gianna, but first he handed off the two glass bottles to Tori. A single firm look sent the girl back inside, and he was glad she obeyed the silent order.

  “You do this.” She sent a hard stare at Gianna’s abdomen, then drew her gaze up slowly. “And you think it is all right to leave Michael’s mother out of the equation? You think to have my grandchildren and I have no right to know? Why is this, Gianna, when I have given you nothing but love for all these years, both before losing my precious son and after?”

  “Marie, come in, it’s cold. And I’ll explain.”

  “Explain?” She directed a tough look over Gianna’s shoulder. Carmen stood there, arms crossed, an eyebrow thrust up, and Seth was pretty sure these women had faced off before. And equally sure Carmen had won. “And your part in all this, Carmen Bianchi? You think you can wave your bony little arm and we all fall into line because you are the matriarch, the wonderful grandma who knows all while the rest of us count for nothing? Well, this is what I say to that.” She made a weird spitting noise toward the ground. “You are in charge of nothing, Carmen. Not with me or my family, and these babies are as much Costanza as they are Bianchi and Rinaldi. And therefore as much mine as yours.”

  Seth had never seen Gianna angry. He’d have thought she didn’t have much practice, but she drew herself up as Marie challenged Carmen, and when she spoke, everyone listened. “They’re mine.” She took a step forward, and while Seth wouldn’t have thought a five-foot-three-inch woman could intimidate, this one did. “I am their mother. I am the one who says what happens and when it happens. They are my flesh and blood and I’m the one who went through years of treatments to make this possible, so don’t think for a minute I’m going to let these precious babies be immersed in some sort of family feud.”

  “They are my son’s children.” Marie braced herself and laced her voice with steel. “I have rights, Gianna. And connections. You should have never left me out of this.”

  Seth stepped in before Carmen could. “Are you threatening these ladies, ma’am? Because it’s against the law to threaten folks here.”

  “I’m not threatening, I’m making a solemn pledge,” she retorted. “And I’ll finish my say while you run along and get the law.”

  Seth drew out his wallet and flashed his ID. “I am the law. So let me make a suggestion before you go any further.” He stayed calm but moved a full step closer, making sure his size didn’t go unnoticed. “Why don’t you go rest up wherever you’re staying and come back tomorrow night after the grand-opening sale. We can talk calmly then.”

  “We? ‘We’ is nothing to you, you are no part of this.” Marie pointed toward Gianna and her grandmother. “Why don’t you—”

  “Marie. Really.” Carmen aimed her gaze at Gianna’s rounded form, then agreed with Seth. “You know more than most how fragile Gianna has been. It’s cold and late and you’re tired from your trip. Get some rest, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  Marie stood silent and still, staring at Gianna and Carmen, and then she did the unthinkable in Seth’s book.

  She began to weep.

  Her face crumpled. Her hands shook. Tears flowed faster than a spring rain on O’Shaughnessy Creek.

  Carmen didn’t step forward to offer comfort. Neither did Gianna. After a few awkward seconds, Seth put a hand to the woman’s shoulder. “May I walk you to your car? Please?”

  She nodded, head down, deflated.

  Seth accompanied her to the car, and when she had buckled her seat belt, he leaned down. “Are you okay to drive, Mrs. Costanza?”

  “I am fine. I am hurt and rejected by those who should know better, but that is no big surprise. And I have only to drive over there.” She pointed to the bed-and-br
eakfast a few doors down from Seth. Seth decided he better call the sheriff’s substation and put out a special alert because Gianna’s mother and aunt were staying in the same B and B. He just hoped none of them had a license to carry a concealed weapon, although Marie’s long, bright red fingernails appeared fairly dangerous and possibly lethal.

  Marie turned more fully his way. “What is your interest in my daughter-in-law?”

  Seth wasn’t a big talker, and he didn’t like personal, probing questions. “My daughter is learning to sew. And she’s helping in the store. Gianna and Carmen have been very good to her.”

  His explanation appeared to mollify Marie slightly, but then he saw the look she cast at the now-empty doorway. Anger, mistrust and hurt darkened her expression, and intuition told him she was no stranger to those feelings. Which meant they may have been directed at Gianna in the past.

  She thrust the car into gear, backed up slowly and drove the short distance to the gingerbread-style lodging house on the left. He didn’t follow her to see if she needed help with her bags. He turned and walked into Gianna’s apartment, pretty sure Marie’s unexpected arrival had thrown a wet blanket on the day’s celebration.

  Sofia was scolding Carmen.

  Carmen was fixing Gianna a cup of tea.

  Rose was fluttering about, trying to ease the tensions and causing more with her constant chatter.

  Only Tori seemed at ease with all the back-and-forth. As Seth walked through the door, the twelve-year-old held up her hands and gave a time-out signal. “Stop. Please.”

  Gianna seemed surprised, but her expression said she welcomed the kid’s interruption. Carmen willingly turned an expectant ear Tori’s way. Rose and Sofia seemed taken aback by the girl’s vehement direction, but they also went quiet.

  Temporarily.

  “My dad says you’ve got to sort things through in your head and then take them to God.” She met the ladies’ gazes with one sweep of the room. “So all the talking in the world isn’t going to fix this tonight, right? And we have all this good food, and Dad brought sparkling stuff, and we had the best day ever! And I had more fun than I ever thought I would today, so can we not fight tonight? Just celebrate, like we planned?”

  Gianna’s lips twitched, and when they did, Carmen’s followed suit. “A moratorium on fighting, arguing and all things negative. That gets my vote.”

  “Mine, too.” Gianna smiled at Tori, reached out and embraced her in a big hug. “And you were marvelous today, honey. Amazing, really.”

  “I had so much fun!” Tori’s face reflected the truth of the statement. “Helping people find things. Telling them what looked nice. Packing their bags. Rehanging clothes.”

  “You had fun rehanging clothes?” Seth moved farther into the room, glad the tension had been broken. “I’ve seen your bedroom, Tor. Why do I find this hard to believe?”

  She burst out laughing. “I like rehanging clothing over here.” She stressed the location and waved to the store with her right hand. “Gianna, do you need help with the stew?”

  “Mom made stew?” Seth moved closer and inhaled deeply. “I am a very happy man.”

  “And fresh bread. And a broccoli salad.”

  “She is a kind woman, your mother.” Carmen reached up a hand to his cheek briefly. “Like mother, like son.”

  “Except Dad doesn’t cook all that well,” Tori told them. “He tries, but I figure as I get older, I can help out with cooking more. Because I have more time,” she added hurriedly, as if afraid she’d hurt Seth’s feelings.

  “I’m all for that.” Seth ruffled her hair. “Anything that lessens my workload gets a resounding yes from my corner.”

  “I’ll get the plates.” Rose moved to the far cupboard.

  “And I’ll put out the silverware.” Sofia opened the drawer adjacent to the sink. Those two normal gestures dropped tensions further, and as the group gathered to eat Jenny Campbell’s delicious meal, the emotional strain lessened. But from the look in Carmen’s eye every time her gaze strayed to the east-facing window—and Gianna’s square-shouldered posture that said she was ready for battle—Seth was pretty sure they were enjoying a brief respite from all-out family-drama engagement.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gianna couldn’t help but overhear the two-way conversation the following morning.

  “Rose said she might have mentioned Gianna’s condition to Genevieve Peccoraro before we left Florida, but she’s sure Genevieve would never tell a soul something she shared in strictest confidence. She’s too good a friend for that.”

  “Then how do you suppose Marie came to know of the babies?” Carmen’s voice stayed flat with disbelief. “Genevieve was most likely on the phone to Marie before your plane left the ground. They’ve always been close. When they’re not bickering. And Genevieve probably couldn’t wait to brag that she knew something before Marie. It has always been that way with them.”

  Gianna walked down the stairs with a pretense of calm. She wished she could ignore the conversation between her grandmother and mother, but she’d instigated the whole mess by her deceit, so it was up to her to straighten things out.

  She’d prayed last night. For strength, for forgiveness, for the right words to soothe Marie’s hurt feelings. The fact that Marie’s feelings rumpled easily was understood, but Gianna hadn’t intended her to find out about the twins in this roundabout fashion. She joined the two women, poured a cup of coffee because she was sick to death of tea and turned to face them. “I hurt her. I’ll fix it.”

  “She is too sensitive.” Sofia raised her hand, dismissive. “It is preposterous to carry on so.”

  “You were upset, too, Mom.”

  “Me, yes. I am your mother, and your grandmother takes special liberties with you. She loves being the favorite, the best nonna. That grows old after a while.”

  Carmen’s lips twitched. “I can’t say I’m against the favoritism, Sofia. I enjoy my granddaughter’s love very much.”

  Sofia faced her. “Bah. You enjoy being in charge more than anything, and my daughter is more like you than me. That is all right except when we forget that I am the mother. And although we do not do things the same way—” she settled a stern look on Gianna and Carmen “—or think the same way, I do not deserve to be left out of things. I understand why you did this.” She turned her attention more fully to Gianna. “I get excited, and I worry. I worry loudly. Your grandmother does not. But when I am done being excited and worried, I am filled with joy. Like now.” She hugged Gianna, and the feel of her mother’s arms around her helped loosen the nasty knot of emotions within. “Of course, I am mostly pleased because my blabbermouth sister is stuck across the street trying to be nice to Marie, and that is her penance for telling Genevieve about your condition.”

  Carmen acknowledged Sofia’s words with a look of acceptance as she began opening pastry boxes of fresh cookies and tiny cakes. “Then the punishment fits the crime.”

  “On this we agree.” Sofia budged her way into the table area and pointed toward the shop. “You two know what needs to be done in there. I do not. But I can put together pretty trays of sweets. And I like that your young man brought us cake the other night. He is thoughtful, that one.”

  “He is,” Gianna agreed. “But he is not my young man.”

  “Perhaps I should say significant other? Or special friend?” Her mother’s frank expression said she wasn’t buying Gianna’s rebuttal. “In any case, his daughter is a dream child, and I could just sit and chatter with her all day. So full of life and joy, and so smart!”

  Sofia’s description inspired a shared smile between Gianna and Carmen. Tori was blossoming day by day. The assurance that she could stay with Seth, her joy of working in the store and with fabric, and her gradually increasing school skills seemed to feed her rocky self-esteem.

  �
��She’s a sweet one.” Carmen picked up her coffee and headed into the shop area. “I’m going to run a hem on that dress for Mrs. Yardley. I should be able to get it done before we open.”

  “And I’ll double-check tags and make sure everything’s in its rightful place.” Gianna looped an arm around her mother’s waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for doing this, Mom.”

  Her mother’s happy grunt was answer enough. Gianna glanced across the street before she stepped into the shop. On one side of Overlook Drive was Seth’s house, warm and welcoming. Down the road, visible behind unleafed spreading oaks and maples, the green, pink and yellow bed-and-breakfast looked just as inviting, but Gianna had seen the look on Marie’s face the night before, and it brought back a pincushion’s worth of prickly memories.

  She’d tolerated Marie’s bossiness when she and Mike were married because she needed to. And the fourteen-mile distance from their home to hers had given some leeway.

  But she’d moved here because she understood the woman’s emotional overload, not from any intent to keep these babies from their paternal grandmother. And Marie’s feelings, once hurt, tended to linger in the abyss, which meant she’d have to coax her former mother-in-law back into the fold.

  Michael hadn’t needed to bow and scrape. As her only son, he could do no wrong in his mother’s eyes. But trying to live up to the standard set by an overbearing mother-in-law had taught Gianna to smile and nod, then do what she thought best. It had worked years ago, with Michael as a buffer. But now?

  She organized dresses with quick hands, certain the smile-and-nod trick of old wouldn’t cut it anymore. She finished up the racks as the doorbell rang on the apartment side of the building. She turned, surprised, because no one ever used the doorbell.

  Her mother came through the curtained partition. In her arms was a glorious basket of flowers, a tribute to spring in bright pinks, yellows, purples and greens. Airy white baby’s breath peeked from between the blossoms, contrasting the fuller blooms with an artist’s touch. “That’s gorgeous.”