One month later…
I was nervous. With Bethany Winston’s passing, Ashley was now the matriarch of the Winston family and I really wanted to make a good impression.
I’d known Ashley—Duane’s only sister—when I was a kid. She and Jackson had been real good friends growing up, and I’d been his annoying younger sister gawking at the local beauty queen. I hadn’t seen her in years, almost a decade.
And now she was home for Christmas. Duane had spent all of Christmas Eve up at Drew Runous’s house on Bandit Lake with his brothers, Drew, Ashley, and some of Ashley’s friends from Chicago. He’d invited me but I felt strange about it. I figured the family needed time together to remember their momma without the introduction of new girlfriends. But I did accept Duane’s invitation for Christmas day.
Therefore I was nervous. Basketcase by Green Day was on repeat in my head. I’d been so anxious I made four pies and hadn’t checked first before stepping out of my shower; Sir Edmund Hilary, once again, had tried to murder me with his litter box.
Duane came over for Christmas brunch, visited with my daddy and swapped dirty looks with Jackson. When I was satisfied that the man-time had been adequate, I pulled him into the kitchen and showed him my pies, asking which one he thought Ashley would like best.
He shrugged one shoulder, kissing my cheek then the back of my hand, entwining our fingers and drawing me close. “Ashley likes all kinds of pie, as far as I know. These look great.”
I sighed, lamenting his lack of specificity and helpfulness. “Well then, maybe pie isn’t the answer.”
“Pie is always the answer.” He grinned down at me, lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a sweet, soft kiss. “You need to relax. Ash is good people. She’s going to love you.”
I swallowed, pressing my lips together. “It’s just, I’d really like for us to be friends. I mean, if she’s moving back here from Chicago in March, then I’d like for us to—”
“She is moving back. She and Drew will probably get married sometime this year, start working on a dozen kids of their own.” Duane’s mouth hooked to the side and his gaze grew fuzzy and warm.
I squeezed his hand, the look on his face making me feel fuzzy and warm.
Over the last month Duane and I had been making plans, lots and lots of plans. I hadn’t expected him to embrace the idea of world traveling with such gusto, but he had. He texted me links during the day, articles or blog posts discussing potential destinations for our world tour, or travel tips for non-tourists.
When asked, he flat-out told me he wanted to go to Italy first, specifically Maranello. In fact, he’d purchased the Rosetta Stone software and started learning how to speak Italian. I was confused by his choice until I realized Maranello is the home of Ferrari and the Scuderia Ferrari Formula One racing team.
Of course.
So that was our plan. We found a few villas for rent just outside of Modena, an ancient city in North Italy dubbed “the capital of engines”, and Duane was researching potential employment possibilities.
“I didn’t know Ashley and Drew were a thing, not ’til you told me two days ago. When did that happen?”
“When momma was sick and Ashley was down here taking care of her at the end of the summer. But I don’t reckon either of them were ready to admit it, not until a few days ago. Pair of dummies, both of them, wasting all that time. We should’ve just locked them in a room together back in September.”
I smirked at his pronouncement. “You know, the same could be said for us. We wasted a lot of time, too.”
Duane’s gaze cut to mine and his mouth was curved with a half frown, half smile. “And whose fault was that?”
“Yours,” I answered immediately.
His eyes narrowed, but now the curve of his mouth was a full smile. “That’s right, and don’t let me forget it.”
***
We held two pies each and I carefully picked my way along the path leading to the Winston’s front porch. I was in my fancy boots and didn’t want to track mud into the house, so I tried to step on thicker patches of dying grass to avoid puddles.
The top of the mountains were blanketed in snow. However, moderate morning temperatures lower down in the valley had melted most of the overnight precipitation, leaving some ice on the ground, but mostly just cold mud. I glanced toward the house and smiled, seeing that the Winston boys had left up the garlands, holly, and white twinkling lights lining the porch and the roof of the house. As well, the wreath I’d made still donned the front door.