Page 3 of Tangled Threads Of Fate

Every time he was in my presence, I turned into a bumbling simpleton. So eventually, I’d decided to be cool and mysterious myself, and usually ran away anytime he came close.

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t see him any more than you see your neighbors.”

Val snorted, stuffing a baguette into the bag. “That’s what you think. My neighbors are my cousin Antonio Jr. and his six hundred kids, and my aunt Valencia with her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Vinnie.” She huffed, casting her eyes to the heavens. “I pray every day that I don’t see them on my way home, but inevitably, there’s a relative knocking on my door within ten minutes of me stepping across the threshold.”

Shaking my head at her exasperation, I pushed down the sad feeling that welled in my chest whenever I thought about how truly alone I was. I’d give anything for Val’s big, messy, loud family.

“Well, I’m going home to watchLust In The Sunwith my hoagie and a pint of ice cream, so I’m kind of hoping I don’t see anyone tonight either.”

Uncle Antonio appeared with my sandwich, all wrapped up tight, and put it on top of the groceries. “You tell Mrs. Byrne she should come down and see me one day soon. Maria misses their chats, though I think they just gossip about everyone at church. But they both used to enjoy it. And my Maria, she gets lonely, even with all the family.” He gave Val a stern look, and she gave him an unimpressed expression in return. With a sigh, he turned back to me. “I can only imagine how lonely Mrs. Byrne must get.”

She always seemed happy enough to me, but I knew she was getting on. The meals she slipped me now were more often just meat and potatoes, and even the meat was questionable. How she hadn’t given herself food poisoning was beyond me, though she’d been brought up in a harder time, that was for sure. Cast-iron stomach.

I’d offered to cook for her once, and I’d never forget the outraged expression on her face.

I grabbed the bags up in my arms. “I’ll tell her, Uncle Antonio. Give my love to Zia Maria.” I hustled it out of Rossi’s before I got trapped there for another thirty minutes. Rossi’s was an institution, and if you’d lived in the neighborhood a while, everyone knew everyone.

The bags were heavy today, and I shifted them up my body to get a better grip. It wasn’t a long trip home, but I’d swear some days, Mrs. Byrne ordered bricks. I was red-cheeked and out of breath by the time I made it to the front door, which whipped open before I could put the bags down and get my key out.

Nate stood there, his face stormy as always, though I was fairly sure that was just his natural resting dick face. He was wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that were actually well-worn, rather than bought pre-distressed. His tattoos were on full display, swirling patterns that ran up his muscular forearms and always transfixed me like a moth to a flame.

The tattoos, not the forearms.

Well, maybe the forearms, just a little. Especially when he flexed.

I pasted a smile on my face and hoisted the bags higher. “Hi, Nate. How are you?”

He grunted, but reached out and took the bags from me, ignoring my protests.

“Seriously, you don’t have to. They’re only going over to Mrs. B, and I’m sure you’re going out somewhere…”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, already turning toward Mrs. Byrne’s door. He shifted both bags to one arm, making his bicep bulge, like someone had over-inflated an inner tube, then knocked with his free hand.

I stood behind him, like an idiot. I didn’t want Mrs. Byrne to think I was slacking off on my job, though I doubted she would anyway. So I’d just loiter here, looking like a weirdo. It always took her ages to get to the door—had I mentioned she was, like, ninety?

I stood there in awkward silence with Nate. I didn’tdoawkward silence. Well, the silence part. I did awkward just fine.

“So, how’s work?”

Fuck, I didn’t even know if he had a job. What if he didn’t and that was a sore spot for him and I’d just put my foot in it?

“Actually, that’s presumptuous of me. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you only have worth if you have a job. I’m sure whatever you do is amazing. So I guess, uh, how’s life? The yard looks good, and the handrail at the front is looking amazing since you repainted it. The stairs in this place are so old, I’m surprised that it’s only the outdoor ones that need fixing.Actually, the third step from my apartment landing is squeaky, so if that wakes you up, I’m sorry!”

Just murder me now and throw my body in the bay.

“Don’t hear it,” Nate grunted as the door swung open.

“Oh, Nate, my boy. How have you been?” Mrs. Byrne gushed, waving him into her apartment. It was a proper old lady apartment, filled to the brim with ruffles and knick-knacks of a life well lived. As Nate got his big shoulders through the doorway, she finally spotted me. “Sweet Wren, there you are! I was beginning to worry, I was. Come in. I have some supper for you, girl.”

“Thanks, Mrs. B. How did you go with the doctors?”

Mrs. Byrne had no family close by, except Nate, so I tried to keep tabs on her medical issues, in case she passed out one day and the paramedics asked me hard questions. Someone needed to know the answers, right?

Mrs. Byrne’s face fell, and my heart thundered in my chest.Oh no.

“Oh, my darling Wren. It was awful news today, me’girl.” She reached out and held my hand. “They diagnosed me with this terrible condition… Old age.” She threw her head back and cackled. I frowned at her, but already, my lips were turning into a smile.

“Not funny, Mrs. B! You had me worried.”

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