by Calista Fox
Her brow crooked. “All of the Sampognas—et al.?”
“Et al.”
“Hmm. That’s a hell of a lot people, Rafe.”
“You did just fine with them at Marco’s party.”
“True… They even seemed to grasp that I needed a little less personal-space invasion.”
Rafe nodded. “Could be because you asserted from the moment we walked in that you wanted me to have the chance to survey the new dining room without being bombarded by everyone. You did it very diplomatically. If you just explain yourself a bit more, Jen, not be afraid to speak up about how overpowering they can all be, I know they’ll respect your space.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings,” she quickly reiterated.
“You won’t. Jen, they all love you. You’re a part of the family whether we’re together or not. You have to understand that.”
She mulled this over, surprisingly not feeling a bout of hyperventilation coming on.
“A real Thanksgiving feast?” she ventured. “With an actual turkey?”
“Five or six actual turkeys, but yeah.”
“Carved at a fully decorated, festive table, while everyone excitedly watches?” So traditional. But…heartwarming.
“Well, it’s just a turkey, but I suppose there’s some excitement,” Rafe jested. “If for no other reason than we’re all starving.”
She laughed. “I’m used to turkey sandwiches on Thanksgiving. I’ve always envied those scenes in movies where the man of the house sharpens his knife and then carves neatly into the bird while everyone waits with bated breath.”
“That’s sorta what happens, I guess.”
“And the mashed potatoes and gravy get passed down the long line of people.”
“And the rolls. Sure.” He grinned at her.
Jenna’s chest pulled tight. “I know it seems blasé to you. But I’ve never experienced an honest-to-God Thanksgiving dinner. I’d love it, Rafe.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I should forewarn you it might not necessarily be the tradition you’ve imagined. There’s also eggplant parmesan, pizza rustica, manicotti, spicy roasted red peppers, et cetera.”
“I’m all about the et cetera.” Her mouth watered. “And you know my motto—the spicier, the better.”
“Always did love that about you.”
She kissed him. Then said, “I’ll be taking you up on this offer.”
“So Thanksgiving dinner it is.”
“Thanksgiving dinner it is. With the et al.”
Rafe’s hand slipped around to her nape and he coaxed her close to him again, giving her one of his slow, hot, deep, wet kisses. The kind she felt all the way to her toes.
Chapter Thirteen
Jenna made yet another life-altering decision/commitment on her flight to San Francisco Thanksgiving morning.
Rafe had inspired her by coming to her in Texas. She’d realized that she’d done to her sister Linney what he’d always done to her—expecting Linney to seek her out when it was actually a two-way street. Why couldn’t Jenna go to Linney?
She’d had Wi-Fi available on her flight, so Jenna had conducted an extensive search and had located Linney Scarsdale, still in San Francisco. She owned an independent bookstore in the Embarcadero. Jenna had also been able to track down her home address.
She found the apartment building on California Street, off Filmore. Jenna couldn’t help but lament the close proximity Linney was to Rafe’s Aunt Vesta in Pacific Heights. Her sister had been under her nose this whole time.
Pulling in a few calming breaths, she left the car and crossed the street. She rang the buzzer for Linney’s apartment and awaited a response, her heart in her throat, her stomach churning. Sure, dropping by unannounced would be a bit of a shock to her sister’s system. And there was a good chance Linney wouldn’t even be around on Thanksgiving. But intuition told Jenna this was the time and this was the place to reconnect with her sister.
Linney’s voice finally came over the intercom. “Yes?”
Jenna’s heart took on a staccato beat. She couldn’t speak.
“Hello?” Linney inquired. “Someone there?”
“Um, yes,” Jenna choked out.
“Do you have the wrong apartment? Who are you looking for?” Linney’s voice was friendly, delicate. Jenna remembered that voice, and how much she’d missed it. “Hello?”
“Linney,” she said, breathless. “It’s Jen.”
Silence.
Jenna fought to slow her racing pulse. Get her breathing under control.
Linney didn’t respond.
Jenna’s stomach twisted tight. “Can I come up, please?”
Still no answer.
Jenna’s eyes squeezed shut. Okay, maybe confronting Linney this way was the wrong approach. She should have called first. Or stopped by the bookstore. Maybe she should have started with a postcard or an email or—
The door buzzed and Jenna yanked it open. She knew the apartment number and climbed the stairs on shaky legs. When she reached Linney’s door, she fought tears. Stood a little straighter. Lifted her chin.
Don’t get all weepy and creepy, she told herself.
Linney had had every right to bail when she’d turned eighteen—hadn’t Jenna done the same thing the very day she’d turned eighteen? The RV had been parked in Traverse City, Michigan, and she’d liked the city. So she’d stayed. She’d talked to her parents a few times thereafter, but she’d been the one to call them, never vice versa, so she’d eventually stopped making the effort, feeling as though it hadn’t been appreciated. Or expected. Or reciprocated. So why bother?
Jenna knocked on the door. She listened to the locks unlatch and then suddenly Linney was standing before her and Jenna couldn’t breathe.
They stared at each other, the threshold between them. An invisible barrier. Though, Linney’s eyes filled with tears as well. She was equally speechless. Pressed a hand to her mouth and continued to gaze at Jenna.
Somehow, coherent thought broke through and Jenna whispered, “My God, Lin. You’re so beautiful.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, because Jenna simply couldn’t hold them back.
Linney cried too.
Neither woman moved for several minutes. Then Linney’s hand fell from her mouth and she grabbed Jenna’s hand, clutching it tight.
“Come in,” she said in a tone raspy with emotion as she gently tugged. “Please, come in.” She locked the door behind Jenna and gave her a hug. A long, hearty squeeze that Jenna returned.
“You’re here,” Linney sobbed. “You’re really here. I can’t believe it. I thought… Damn it, Jen, I thought I’d never see you again. That you’d never want to see me again—not after what I did. The way I left you. Jen, I’m so sorry!”
“I’m sorry too. I found you so easily today. I could have done it sooner, Lin. I just…” She sucked in a breath. Pulled away. Clasping her sister’s shoulders, Jenna said, “I assumed you didn’t want to be in contact with me. I’m so accessible and you didn’t reach out and that just made me believe you had no desire to ever connect with me again. And I was too terrified to be the one to make the first move. But then…someone showed me that it’s a hell of lot better to take a shot in the dark than forever wonder what might have been.”
“Oh, God, Jen. I wanted to call you—I really did. After I saw you on TV. I thought about sending an email. A letter. Whatever. I didn’t know what to say. But more than that…I was so afraid you’d tell me to go to hell.”
“I get it, Lin. I do. Neither one of us every truly learned to deal with shit like this. But things have changed. At least…they have for me.”
With a nod, Linney said, “I have journals, Jen. Dozens. I’ve written in them since the day I left the RV. About all the places I’ve been, the people I’ve met. And how desperately I’ve missed you.”
A few more drops trickled down Jenna’s flushed cheeks. “You were my whole world, Linney. I’ve missed you too.” She hugged her sister again. They
clung to each other, weeping, until Jenna had the inescapable compulsion to pull away and quietly demand, “What is that godawful smell?”
Linney swiped at her tears and said, “My dinner. I think it’s burning.”
She hurried into the kitchen and Jenna trailed along behind her. “Whoa, that’s wretched.” The scent of the charred food filled the small room. Jenna lifted a box from the counter and said, “A Jennie-O turkey roll, Linney? Seriously?”
“Beats the hell out of turkey sandwiches,” her sister said. She opened the oven door and a plume of smoke billowed out. Linney waved her hand in the air, then reached for a potholder and yanked the pan from the rack, setting it on the stove. “Son of a gun. Now I don’t have a Thanksgiving turkey.”
“Good Lord. We are the most pathetic women.” Jenna glanced around the sparsely decorated kitchen.
Linney’s gaze followed. “I don’t like to collect stuff. The walls are a bit bare.”
“At least you own a few things. A sofa. Pots and pans.” She glanced back at her sister. “I have nothing but a cell phone, an iPad and some clothes. Well, I do like my shoes too, but the point is, I’ve been living out of hotels most of my adult life. With the exception of the time I’ve spent at my ex-husband’s loft here in San Francisco.”
“I’d read that you’d gotten married. I didn’t hear about the divorce. I’m sorry.”
“We kept it under wraps for the most part. But we’re still close.” She eyed her sister a moment, then said, “Linney, I’m having Thanksgiving with Rafe and his family and I want you to come with me. Have a real turkey for dinner.”
Linney’s jaw slackened.
Jenna rushed on. “You can tell me what you’ve been doing for the past thirteen years. Tell me about the bookstore. Meet some really fantastic people. Drink a lot of wine. What do you say?” Jenna pleaded with her, not the least bit ashamed of how intensely she wanted to spend the holiday with her sister.
Linney still hedged. “I don’t know, Jen. I’m not so great with crowds, you know?”
Jenna let out a soft laugh. “Yes, I know. I suffer the same affliction. But…you’ll get used to them. I am. You just have to keep putting yourself out there. Baby steps. This is one. Come with me,” she urged. “If it’s too overwhelming, you just sit in the corner with your wine and let them all have at it—talk around you.” She winked. “Little trick of mine.”
Linney didn’t budge. Jenna crossed the tiny room and shut off the oven. She said, “I’ll clean up this mess. You go change out of the yoga suit and I’ll drive us over. They’re not far from here.”
Her sister wrung her hands, but then nodded slowly. “Okay. Just…give me a few minutes. I wasn’t expecting company.”
Jenna said, “You look great. Really, Linney. All that blonde hair and geez…you’re just so pretty.”
“You too.” She kissed Jenna on the cheek and said, “Thanks for coming. I’ve tried so long to force myself to make the first move, but I couldn’t stomach you slamming the door in my face.”
“I never would.”
She sighed. “You’d have every right to.”
“No,” Jenna said with a definitive shake of her head. “That’s not true. You had the right to leave. I left too. Just as abruptly. And to be honest…” She stared her sister squarely in the eyes and confessed, “I never wanted to look back as far as the RV was concerned. I never wanted to see it again.”
“I hated that damn thing,” Linney said in an edgy voice. “What a shitty way to be raised.”
“Yeah. There’s certainly some residual damage that goes along with having bohemian parents.”
Linney studied her a moment before asking, “Is that what caused the problems in your marriage?”
“Primarily.”
“But you two still spend time together.”
“Of late, yes. More, we’ve vowed to each other. Though that currently hinges on whether I make it to dinner on time.”
Linney laughed, albeit shakily. “Give me five minutes.”
She didn’t take any longer and Jenna drove them to Vesta’s house. She’d considered calling Rafe on the way, but they were close by.
Jenna rang the bell, already hearing the noise from inside and inhaling a myriad of wonderful, co-mingling aromas that practically made her drool.
Beside her, Linney said, “Like, how many people are we talking about here?”
“I don’t know. Fifty. Sixty. Something like that.”
“Jesus, Jen.” Her eyes grew wide.
“Don’t swear or take the Lord’s name in vain in front of Vesta, please. She’s very sensitive about that.”
“Gotcha.”
A second later, the door opened and Rafe’s aunt raised her hands in the air in enthusiastic greeting.
“Here you are, cara mia!” Then over her shoulder, Vesta rattled off to everyone else something in Italian that didn’t compute with Jenna. Who decided then and there it was high time Rafe taught her Italian.
Vesta did the double-cheek kiss-kiss thing and then Jenna said, “This is my sister, Linney. I hope you don’t mind I brought her a—”
“Of course not!” Vesta kissed Linney too, and then said, “Always the more the merrier with us. Come, come!”
The petite woman ushered them inside, but Jenna pulled up short in the foyer as she spied Rafe in the living room. He turned and, in his arms, he cradled the tiniest baby, wrapped in a pink blanket.
For a moment, Jenna’s brain stalled. Her heart melted. Her knees practically gave out.
Sexy, hunky Rafe with a sweet little girl in his arms. Jenna couldn’t speak.
He grinned at her, a sparkle in his ocean-blue eyes.
Beside her, Linney whispered, “The ex?”
Jenna nodded.
“Something you forgot to tell me, Jen?” she prompted.
“The baby’s not mine. Or his.”
Mags came from the kitchen and joined Rafe. Her gaze followed his and she let out a squeak of joy. “J.! You’re here!”
Somehow, Jenna managed to find her voice. “Sorry to be late. I stopped off to see my sister. This is Linney.” Then she gestured as she said, “Linney, this is Mags and her husband Geoff. Vesta and Frank. Zelda and Joe. Vinny and Macy.” And about fifty more to go…
Gio stepped in and said, “I’m Gio, the wine guy. Looks like you could use a glass.”
Linney was clearly shell-shocked. The same reaction Jenna had experienced long ago.
“He’s Rafe’s cousin,” Jenna said to her sister. “One of many.”
“Yeah, wine would be best right out of the chute. Holy shi—cow.” Linney took deep breaths.
Gio offered his hand. “There’s a chair with your name on it along the fringes. Used to belong to Mrs. Rafe Sampogna.” He winked at Jenna. “I think you she can handle the mayhem today. And, Linney, I promise to keep the wine flowing.”
“I like you already,” Linney said with a soft laugh.
Jenna watched them cross the room, Gio doing an outstanding job of fending off the vultures so Linney could make it to her chair, sit and assimilate. Rafe’s family made a concerted effort to let Linney adapt, for which Jenna was grateful.
And Gio remained attentive…an interesting tidbit Jenna tucked away.
She worked the room as best as she could, though they were all gracious enough not to press in too closely on Jenna too. She eventually reached Rafe, still cradling the newborn in his arms. She hugged Geoff and Mags, the ecstatic parents.
Mags told Jenna, “Those flowers you sent to the hospital were insane. I was the envy of the entire floor.”
“I’m so glad everything went well.” Jenna’s eyes were on the baby. “Lily. What a beautiful name for such a beautiful little girl.”
Jenna swept her fingers ever so gingerly over a soft, plump cheek. Lily wiggled and stretched and her mouth made a perfect “O.”
“She’s an absolute angel.” Mist covered Jenna’s eyes. The baby wrapped her itty-bitty fingers around Jenna�
�s pinky. “Wow. And already a heartbreaker.”
“I know, right?” Mags said with awe in her voice. “I used to tease Tonio when he wouldn’t put the twins down to sleep because he wanted to hold them. Now I understand. I hate to have her out of my arms for even a second.”
“And yet I got a full five minutes,” Rafe said. “A perk to being her godfather.”
Jenna snapped out of her baby-induced trance. “Godfather?”
“Yes,” Mags beamed. “He accepted. And now you have no choice but to agree to be Lily’s godmother. Please, J. For me?”
A fat drop crested the rim of Jenna’s eye and rolled down her cheek. “You people are in constant command of my tear ducts.”
“But it’s not so bad, right?” Mags asked.
“No, not so bad.”
“So you’ll be at the baptism?”
“I will move heaven and earth to be there.” How could she miss out on such an important day—and calling? Godmother. She’d never in a million years imagined herself in that position. Whoever thought someone would ask her? The fact Mags had warmed Jenna’s heart.
“You want to hold her?” Mags asked.
Jenna stared at little Lily. She was almost irresistible. But Jenna shook her head. “I’m not good with babies.”
“They’re not so scary,” Mags assured her. “Rafe, hand her over.”
He carefully transferred the baby to Jenna’s arms, and Mags showed her how to hold her, to cradle her head.
Jenna couldn’t help leaning close to the infant and inhaling deeply. “She smells like heaven.”
“I know,” Mags said. “She’s positively addictive.”
Jenna watched the baby coo and sigh and wiggle her fingers. And thought she was the most precious thing on the planet.
It wasn’t until Lily fussed that Jenna gave her back to Mags, who said, “Don’t take offense. She’s hungry.”
“I don’t blame her. My stomach’s been grumbling since I walked in.” She smiled at Lily and whisked a finger over her supple skin again. “It’s going to be so much fun watching you grow up.”