tears.
"You can let him go, but not because you're afraid. You're not alone in this."
Her throat worked. "Did you . . . name him?"
"He's your son. You name him."
"Diego," she whispered. "His name is Diego Manuel Espinoza."
Her coarse hair and forehead were warm and damp under his hand. "Diego Manuel will be glad to see you."
She shook her head. "I can't."
"The guys who had you are in custody. Is Diego's father one of them?"
She turned away, and he could swear it was shame that washed over her face.
"Maria?"
"No sè."
"You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Please."
He cupped her head with his palm and rested it there as a tear trickled past her temple to her ear. "Okay." He released a slow breath. "Everything's going to be okay." He held her weary gaze and sent one more prayer to God's ear, then went home to tell Diego Manuel his name.
————
"This calls for a celebration. Bring wine." Nonna's face broke into myriad lines of joy and laughter.
Sofie shared the smile. The baby in her arms was warm and soft, and now he had a name. Their limbo was past, the cushion of wordless comfort, their knowing without knowing. She needed to prepare herself to part with him, to restore him to his mother. It was right, and she wanted it. But there was no denying her heart ached.
Lance returned to the kitchen from the cellar with a bottle of the family vintage. Star took down glasses, filled two with sparkling water for herself and Elaine, who murmured, "Glad, very glad."
When everyone had been served, Nonna inspected the hue and clarity of the aged wine. "A vintage worthy of the event."
Lance raised his glass with a broad smile. "To Diego Manuel Espinoza, long life, happiness, and grace." He pressed Rese to his side, and they stood together in repose, upholding each other with joy and satisfaction.
Sofie drank to the baby. God willing, he had suffered no trauma from this separation. God willing, Maria would love him as well when he was returned to her—if. Matt still had his doubts.
Her chest tightened at the thought of him. He was only a man doing his job. He would resolve things for Maria and Diego, then move on to another case and other caregivers. They came from different worlds, held opposing views. He didn't know God existed; she needed to trust God every day. He didn't believe in heaven and hell; she had experienced both.
With a sigh, she passed the baby to Nonna and slipped out to the garden. She had prayed for him, for Maria, and those prayers were being answered. She raised her face in gratitude, and still the pang lingered.
The door opened and Star joined her. "So much happiness cloys."
The bitter edge in her voice came from the place Sofie didn't want to go. "Whose happiness do you mean, Star?"
"Rese."
"Because of Lance?"
"Selfish and embittered, I know. But she's always been there, my sister Looney Tune, my strong and capable friend. I don't know who I am without her."
Her chest constricted. She knew how it was to be so identified with someone that her own self crumbled at the loss. "Your friendship won't change."
Star twisted her arms. "It has. She's changed. We've changed."
And change was hard. She'd found hope in an old woman's words and a new start, but it took work every day to maintain it when habits and thoughts clung like spider webs.
Star sighed. " 'These sorrows make me old.' "
"And yet, we carry on."
"With what?"
"With whatever it is that won't let go."
Star stared up into the night sky. "And what, pray, is that?"
————
Matt waited with Cassinia outside Maria's room the next morning. Lance joined them, and though there was no reason for Sofie to be there, Matt couldn't help a momentary disappointment that her brother had come alone. The stuffed bear holding fresh blooms that Lance carried only slightly softened the antiseptic smell as they entered. Maria's cheeks warmed as Lance drew near, but it looked less like a crush than
"You can let him go, but not because you're afraid. You're not alone in this."
Her throat worked. "Did you . . . name him?"
"He's your son. You name him."
"Diego," she whispered. "His name is Diego Manuel Espinoza."
Her coarse hair and forehead were warm and damp under his hand. "Diego Manuel will be glad to see you."
She shook her head. "I can't."
"The guys who had you are in custody. Is Diego's father one of them?"
She turned away, and he could swear it was shame that washed over her face.
"Maria?"
"No sè."
"You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Please."
He cupped her head with his palm and rested it there as a tear trickled past her temple to her ear. "Okay." He released a slow breath. "Everything's going to be okay." He held her weary gaze and sent one more prayer to God's ear, then went home to tell Diego Manuel his name.
————
"This calls for a celebration. Bring wine." Nonna's face broke into myriad lines of joy and laughter.
Sofie shared the smile. The baby in her arms was warm and soft, and now he had a name. Their limbo was past, the cushion of wordless comfort, their knowing without knowing. She needed to prepare herself to part with him, to restore him to his mother. It was right, and she wanted it. But there was no denying her heart ached.
Lance returned to the kitchen from the cellar with a bottle of the family vintage. Star took down glasses, filled two with sparkling water for herself and Elaine, who murmured, "Glad, very glad."
When everyone had been served, Nonna inspected the hue and clarity of the aged wine. "A vintage worthy of the event."
Lance raised his glass with a broad smile. "To Diego Manuel Espinoza, long life, happiness, and grace." He pressed Rese to his side, and they stood together in repose, upholding each other with joy and satisfaction.
Sofie drank to the baby. God willing, he had suffered no trauma from this separation. God willing, Maria would love him as well when he was returned to her—if. Matt still had his doubts.
Her chest tightened at the thought of him. He was only a man doing his job. He would resolve things for Maria and Diego, then move on to another case and other caregivers. They came from different worlds, held opposing views. He didn't know God existed; she needed to trust God every day. He didn't believe in heaven and hell; she had experienced both.
With a sigh, she passed the baby to Nonna and slipped out to the garden. She had prayed for him, for Maria, and those prayers were being answered. She raised her face in gratitude, and still the pang lingered.
The door opened and Star joined her. "So much happiness cloys."
The bitter edge in her voice came from the place Sofie didn't want to go. "Whose happiness do you mean, Star?"
"Rese."
"Because of Lance?"
"Selfish and embittered, I know. But she's always been there, my sister Looney Tune, my strong and capable friend. I don't know who I am without her."
Her chest constricted. She knew how it was to be so identified with someone that her own self crumbled at the loss. "Your friendship won't change."
Star twisted her arms. "It has. She's changed. We've changed."
And change was hard. She'd found hope in an old woman's words and a new start, but it took work every day to maintain it when habits and thoughts clung like spider webs.
Star sighed. " 'These sorrows make me old.' "
"And yet, we carry on."
"With what?"
"With whatever it is that won't let go."
Star stared up into the night sky. "And what, pray, is that?"
————
Matt waited with Cassinia outside Maria's room the next morning. Lance joined them, and though there was no reason for Sofie to be there, Matt couldn't help a momentary disappointment that her brother had come alone. The stuffed bear holding fresh blooms that Lance carried only slightly softened the antiseptic smell as they entered. Maria's cheeks warmed as Lance drew near, but it looked less like a crush than
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