Believe (San Francisco Brides Series Book 2)

by Juliano, Celia

  “I’m so glad you’re here early.” Sophia plopped the dough into a big white bowl and covered it with a flour sack towel. Then she wiped her hands on a red dishcloth and hugged Becca.

  “Thanks for inviting me. Can I do anything to help?”

  “Of course.” Sophia laughed. “But let’s sit and talk first. I need a cup of tea. You?”

  “Sure, thanks. Would you like me to get it?”

  “You’re a dear.” Sophia sighed into one of the oak chairs at the large oval table in the corner. The mellow winter afternoon light played through the red check curtains. They were usually blue, but Sophia changed them for the holidays.

  Becca put on the kettle, got down two Santa mugs, and placed tea bags in both.

  “Have you heard from your grandparents? Are they enjoying their trip?”

  “They arrived safely. I think they’re a little surprised by some of the changes, but they’re happy to be there after so many years.”

  “It was good of your dad to send them.”

  “He’s tried for years, but Grandpa never wanted to leave the store. Now he’s eighty, he finally decided a trip home to Italy would be worthwhile. And he has my cousin Dave trained now.”

  “I wish you’d stay here with us. I hate thinking of you all alone in the house.”

  “I’m okay.” She wasn’t, really. No Christmas decorations up. No family around. Supposedly, she lived with her grandparents to help them, but now she realized they helped her.

  The kettle whistled. Becca turned, glad to hide her face from Sophia’s knowing eyes.

  “I guess it might be awkward, since Joey’s here.”

  “How’s the remodel going?” Joey was moving into his cousin Lorenzo’s old apartment but his uncle, Sophia’s brother, who owned the building, was remodeling.

  “Good, should be done by February. I’m sure Grandpop would love to have you at his house.”

  Grandpop was Sophia’s uncle, but everyone, including all the younger family friends, called him “Grandpop.” He, like Sophia’s father, lived in a fabulous mansion up the hill with his grandson, Vincente, and his new wife, Gina.

  Becca poured water in the mugs, the tea bags puffing briefly. That’s how Becca’d felt so much of her life, puffed and scalded. She’d felt that earlier, and that was one reason she was here—it got her out of herself, helping someone she loved. She put a bit of sugar and milk into the tea and brought both cups to the table.

  “Thanks,” Sophia said. She blew on the surface of the tea.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” Becca slid into the chair next to Sophia’s. She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth ease her thoughts away.

  “You’re always welcome here.” Sophia took a quick sip. “Seems like Lita’s baby might share a birthday with you. She’s due right around Christmas.”

  “It’s fun, having a Christmas Eve birthday. But I’m sure that baby will get all the attention and love in the world whenever he’s born.”

  “Maybe she.” Sophia smiled, a tender look crinkled her eyes.

  “They haven’t told anyone the sex?”

  “Lita didn’t want to know. So they’re getting surprised—what a Christmas gift.”

  Becca nodded and sipped her tea. It was a gift Becca hoped would happen for her soon. Though without a husband, it wouldn’t happen for her at all. But she had her family, and her students, and they were all wonderful…mostly. She smiled.

  “I’m glad to see you looking happy. So, whatever happened with that banker you were seeing?”

  Becca’s smile twisted into a grimace. “He wasn’t for me.”

  Sophia patted her arm. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these young men.”

  Becca shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t them…No, it was just that she hadn’t met the right man yet. She used to think it was her, and her ex-fiancé had agreed, telling her she was too fat, her hair too curly, she was too nice, too sweet. She gripped her mug. One thing Becca could say for her sister Shaina, she’d helped her see how wrong that all was. Shaina’d breezed in on one of her visits, sized up the relationship, and had a long talk with Becca. After that, Becca gathered the courage to break up with her fiancé. And she’d never regretted it. But it was lonely sometimes, especially with all the holiday parties coming up.

  “You know, Becca, maybe you and Joey should…”

  Becca laughed and set down her cup. “Sophia, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I know we’ve both told you it just won’t ever happen.”

  “Never say never. Miracles happen every day—”

  “If you believe.” Becca laughed again. It was an old saying in the D’Angelo-DeGrazia clan. And they’d seen their share of miracles. Becca believed, but it hadn’t been her time yet, not for that miracle. She gulped some tea. “So, what are we baking?”

  Sophia shook her head with a smile. Sophia wouldn’t be deterred that easily, but she’d taken the hint. “Rolls. And some biscotti for dessert. Doughs are made, but I’d love your help shaping the rolls. You make such pretty twists.”

  “Grandma taught me.” Grandma’d taught her a lot, not just domestic skills, but about life, and love. Becca’s parents hadn’t had much time for those lessons.

  “She’s a great lady. I was blessed to be raised with so many wonderful women. And I’m blessed still.” Sophia’s smile included Becca.

  “Me too. So, full house tonight?”

  “Not really. Joey, Vincente, Gina, Grandpop, and Pete.”

  Becca crossed her legs. Last time she’d seen Pete, he’d looked at her…strangely. He was a quiet guy, with kind eyes, but that evening, he’d stared at her with something different in his expression, something more than his usual friendly glances.

  “That’s like a regular night.” Becca stood and took the mugs to the sink.

  “True. There’ll be plenty of us at the party at my dad’s next weekend. And for Christmas.” Sophia joined Becca at the island. “Let’s bake.”

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  About the Author

  Celia Juliano learned to read at the age of two, beginning her lifetime love of books, especially those with a happily ever after. She grew up believing in fairies, angels, Santa Claus, and the true love of an Italian prince. Now she writes about everyday angels and Italian American men…as well as other stories of relationships, minor miracles, and happy endings. A native Californian, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.

  Connect with Celia on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads, or email her at celiajuliano@celiajuliano.com

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