Deep (Pagano Family #4)(77)

“It is. I want you to meet the rest of my family. I want them to know you.”

“You hardly talk about them at all.”

His expression clouded over a little. “They’re good people, all of them. They’re not in the business I’m in. They know me for who I am, and that holds me apart. But they’ll love you. And you them.”

Still confused, and now feeling a strange sense of defensiveness on Nick’s behalf, she nodded. “Okay.”

With the kind of smile he gave only her, he leaned in and kissed her. “Thank you, bella.”

Meeting his family—all of it. That felt like a step. Part of her, most of her, was exhilarated to think that he was folding her into his family. A much smaller but adamant part of her was afraid. She was half of herself. She didn’t know how to find the rest, and she didn’t want Nick to be with her out of pity or a sense of responsibility. With every step he took that deepened what they had, she fought the urge to shrink back.

What they had now was different from what they’d just started building before. She was different. And he was different. He was different with her. He was always Good Nick now, kind and patient, gentle and careful. He was the half of himself that her half-self needed. But she didn’t want to be her half-self, and she didn’t want half of him.

She just didn’t know how to put their pieces back.



oOo



Bev had never been to a Catholic service before. In some ways it was familiar, harkening back to the United Church of Christ services her mother would sometimes drag her to, when she’d get a rare itch to be a better person. But in most ways, Catholic worship was different. There was a lot more ceremony and ritual. And, strangely, people were, as a whole, dressed more casually.

Except the Paganos. They were all dressed in Sunday best—but for one guy, one of Nick’s cousins, she guessed, across the aisle. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt. The rest of the men were in suits.

After the service, there was more ritual, as everyone milled around outside and waited, apparently, for their chance to speak with the priest. Ben and Angie didn’t have to wait. And Nick, Betty, and Bev, too, were next.

And then it was time to meet the rest of his family. There were so many of them! Feeling shy and nervous, she shook hands and accepted hugs from a nearly endless line of men and women. There were children, too, a young boy and two babies, a boy and a girl. She tried to remember all of their names—she was good with names—but after a while she was sure they were running together.

She tried to keep it straight in her head: The big guy in the jeans and shirt, that was Luca. He stood out.

Nick’s uncle was Carlo. His wife was Adele. The tallest cousin was Carlo Jr. His wife was Sabina. The two boys were theirs—the blond older boy was Trey. The dark-haired baby boy was Little Ben. Oh! Cute!

The tiny baby girl was Teresa, with an exotic pronunciation. Her mother was Carmen—the one getting married. She was marrying the older tall, blond guy—blond was a helpful marker in this crowd—he was Theo. Another, younger blond guy who actually looked a lot like Theo was Eli. Eli’s Pagano was Rosa. And then there were two unattached cousins. They were John and Joey.

Phew. She thought she had them. Fourteen Paganos. Plus Ben, Angie, Betty, and Nick. And her. And there were other cousins off somewhere, too, Ben and Angie’s kids and their families. And Luca had a wife at home.

This family was a party in and of itself. Somehow, Nick had managed to be an only child in the middle of all this familial bounty.

This party scared her. Since that night at the diner, she hadn’t been around so many people. Two months had passed—more—and though she felt better, she felt different. Once happy in a crowd, mixing and mingling, meeting people, making friends, now she had no idea whether she’d be able to smile and be pleasant with strangers for a whole afternoon.

Nick took her home to change into more casual clothes before the party. He dropped her off at her door and went back to his place to do the same. Once in her room, she stripped out of her church clothes and her underwear and stood naked in front of the standing mirror in her bedroom. Even her body was different. Smaller. Looser. She’d lost muscle tone in the weeks she’d been recovering. She was scarred, inside and out.

She turned and lifted her breast, smoothing her fingers over the shiny new skin of her scar. Why she did this, she didn’t know. It didn’t feel good; the skin there was numb—a lot of the breast was numb now, in fact. It wasn’t pretty. But again and again, she felt compelled to see this mark. To study it, make sure it was etched deeply into her memory.

As if she could have forgotten.

“Bella.”

Bev’s heart nearly leapt clear of her body. She turned with a squeal and found Nick standing in the doorway to her room. “What are you doing here? You knock! You’re supposed to knock!”

He stepped in, and she stepped back, snatching her robe from the arm of the chair she kept in the room. He stopped.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. I was worried.” He took a few more steps toward her.

She was wedged now between the chair and the wall, and her heart was drumming at triple time. She shouldn’t have been afraid, not of Nick, and she didn’t think that was what had her so freaked.

Shame. It was shame.

Clutching the robe to her chest, she tried to make her voice steady. “You need to go.”