“Shush, someone may hear you.”
She ignored his low, sexy laugh and flung open the door. Now that things with David were a bit more settled, Gen was looking forward to spending quality time with her family without the crippling guilt. She’d moved on. David had moved on. Maybe her father would finally stop calling her with concerned questions and hopeful suggestions to contact David to try and work things out. Maybe he’d finally soften toward Wolfe, though she intended to keep their new relationship a secret.
Jim MacKenzie lit up and gathered her in a big bear hug. “About time. I was about to eat all the antipasto by myself.”
“Mom has my back. Bet she hid some pepperoni just for me.”
“I did!” came the yell from the kitchen.
Jim’s smile slid off his face when he caught Wolfe standing behind her. He stiffened and gave him a polite nod. “Wolfe.”
“Jim. How are you? Thanks for inviting me.”
“Fine, thank you. Maria was the one who extended the invite.”
Gen winced. Ouch. Her father was one of the kindest people she knew. His job as an alcoholism counselor put him in touch with varying types and he rarely held judgment. But something about Wolfe turned him into a stranger. She deliberately caught Wolfe’s hand and led him inside. A show of unity. A silent back off to her dad.
Jim frowned.
“The whole crew here?” she asked, walking into the living room, where appetizers were already laid out and bottles of red and white wine were breathing. Her twelve-year-old niece, Taylor, was texting on her phone at the same time she bopped to music on her player.
Gen walked over and waved a hand in front of her. The blond-haired angel grinned, tore off her earbuds, and gave her a hug. “Hi, Aunt Gen! Hi, Wolfe. Aunt Gen, you are not going to believe it. I swear you will absolutely hit-the-floor die right now when you hear.”
She assumed her serious face. “Tell me.”
Taylor’s bright blue eyes gleamed with a secret. Oh boy. She knew that look well. She and Izzy had perfected the art. “I’m going to Paris.”
Whoa. “Are you kidding me? Your mother’s letting you travel overseas? For what?”
“There’s a special foreign-language transfer student program I want to sign up for. I spend the month in Paris, learning French and the customs, and stay with a family. Do you believe this?”
Gen looked around for intervention from her insane brother and sister-in-law. This could not be possible. “When are you going?”
“When I’m sixteen.”
Relief sagged her shoulders. Wow, that was a close call. “So, you’re telling me in only four years you’re going to live in Paris, learning French and being generally fabulous?”
“Yes!”
“I can’t believe it! I’m so excited!” She jumped up and down with Taylor, squealing and holding hands, while Wolfe laughed behind them. “I’m so coming to visit you.”
“Totally.”
Lance and Gina came in from the backyard, and they launched into a discussion about traveling and how Maria never allowed them to go farther than the next-door neighbor’s.
“I don’t understand these children today.” Her mother sighed, setting down a tray of bruschetta in front of them. Wolfe dove at the same time as her father, and Wolfe jerked back, allowing him the win. “What’s wrong with staying home? Plenty of time to do traveling later in life. You all turned out fine.”
Lance kicked back in the chair, feet propped up on the worn ottoman. “Gina may disagree with you, Mom. Says I have issues.”
Gina and her mother both swatted him on opposite sides. Taylor giggled.
“Where’s Alexa and Nick?” Gen asked.
“Lily has a virus, so they’re both staying home tonight. I’ll bring her chicken soup tomorrow.”
Gen smiled. She loved how her mom’s chicken soup cured illness and general malaise. They plunged into general conversation, with teasing, jibes, and lots of wine. Her mother had just declared dinner ready. Everyone got up and began filing into the dining room, when a loud bang echoed through the house.
Izzy walked in.
Gen stared. Her sister had stopped coming to family dinners a long time ago. She remembered that fateful dinner when Izzy had barged in hopped up on drugs, sneering at their so-called happy family and launching personal attacks on everyone. Gen shuddered at the memory.
So much hurt and betrayal, as if they were living through their father’s alcoholic spiral all over again. When her father finally threw her out, yanking all privileges to visit in a symbol of tough love, Izzy swore never to return.
She’d been clean for a while now, but something was different. Usually her razor-sharp wit, sarcasm, and raw energy shimmered around her. Today, she looked . . . reserved. Troubled. Her pitch-black hair with purple streaks was pinned up from her face. She’d gone easy on the makeup, allowing the same freckles Gen sported to pop through. Navy blue eyes that matched her own were clear but held a weariness she hadn’t seen before.
The rest of the family seemed frozen, caught between surprise and worry that her good behavior was a mirage.
Wolfe broke the silence and stepped forward. “Izzy, it’s good to see you. Hope you didn’t want any antipasti. We pretty much annihilated it.”
Was that relief that flickered across her face? A half smile curved her lips, which were a natural pink rather than bloodred. She wore jeans and a simple black T-shirt, baring two of her tats. Sneakers instead of spiked metal heels were on her feet. “Gen always hoarded the pepperoni anyway.”