Lu sat up, nodded her head, and held out her pinky to Willa. “Pinky promise—one hour.”
Rolling her eyes, Willa wrapped her pinky around Lu’s. “One hour.”
5
The Supper Clubs often ended at the Pellitteris’ house because the kitchen was a wide-open, inviting space that seemed to draw people to it. An L-shaped breakfast bar provided a break between the kitchen and the family room, which had an amazing barrel ceiling. The back of the room opened out onto the patio through a series of sliding glass doors that slid into the walls like old-fashioned pocket doors. The sprawling back deck and pool area made the space seem far larger than it truly was but also provided plenty of area for all of the families to congregate.
Even though she’d been to the house this morning, when Lu entered she was struck again by the loss of Mr. P. That, coupled with the prospect of seeing Lex, had her stomach churning. Willa immediately pushed a glass of wine into her hand. “Drink this,” she ordered. Lu complied, feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland. Everyone around her was familiar, shades of her childhood coming at her in various colors. She looked around cautiously, thinking she wasn’t quite ready to see him.
A pair of arms encircled her waist and she almost jumped out of her skin. “It’s just me,” Pete said.
Smiling sincerely, Lu turned and embraced him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she hugged him harder. “So sorry.”
He pulled back and looked at her. “I know. But I appreciate it. How are you?”
“I’m OK,” she answered honestly.
“Don’t worry; he’s talking to my mom. You’re safe for a bit.”
He saw her visibly relax.
“How are you?” she inquired, feeling remorseful for letting him see her worries rather than letting them go so that she could be there for him.
“That is a very difficult question to answer. Too many emotions to wrap my head around one.” Drawing her aside, into the bar between the kitchen and dining room, they leaned back on the counter that housed the ice bucket and the open and empty bottles of wine. Because of their location, there wasn’t much hope for a private discussion, which neither of them really had the stomach for. Heads together, they chatted about any inane subject they could think of in an attempt to avoid discussions of death, reunion s, and uncertainty. And that was the sight that greeted Lex when he came out of the den with his mother.
His mom had spent the last thirty minutes giving him the rundown of the events over the next couple of days. Although she attempted to cover her annoyance with his schedule, tension had run through the entire conversation. Annoyed and overwhelmingly tired, Lex wanted everyone out of the house. He had managed to hide from everyone up until this point, but he had aunts, uncles, and old friends waiting to greet him and his mother. He opened the door for his mother and held it for her, allowing her to set the pace through the small gathering of people. He could see how tired she was, and while being with her family provided a soothing balm, she wasn’t up for a long night. Situated at the front of the house, across from the dining room, his father’s den afforded him an unobstructed view of the proceedings.
As they prepared to leave the sanctity of the den, he bent toward his mother’s ear. “How long can you go?” Glancing at her watch, she looked vaguely surprised. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Maybe an hour? I think Amber will be ushering my family out of here in a bit, so we should be able to make that happen.”
“We’ll make it happen,” he assured her.
From his vantage point in the doorway of the den, Lex had an open view of kitchen and hallway. Without meaning to, he surveyed the rooms looking for Lu. He didn’t see her at first. Disappointed, he decided that both he and his mother needed a drink. “Want some wine?”
Grateful eyes met his. “Absolutely. Pinot noir, please.”
Attempting to take the most obscure way to the bar—not through the kitchen but backtracking through the dining room, Lex turned the corner and stopped as he got his first look at Lu.. The lighting in the bar was dim, but he could make out her features perfectly. Blue-black hair reached midway down her back falling in a straight line without an ounce of wave. Growing up, she had worn her hair either long or short. She would let it get long cut if off for “Locks of Love” and then grow it out again. But when he had left, it was short. She had always been tiny, but now, compared with his six-foot-two frame, her demure height of five foot two left her standing a foot shorter than him. She looked like a pixie, with her delicate features and her big, blue eyes.