told you.” Although why Marietta would spend any time on the details of one of her daughters-in-law’s backgrounds was anyone’s guess. Especially if she were entertaining Kenji in a romantic way, regardless of her rebuttal of that thought back in October. As far as Winnie knew, Kenji had only come by the house maybe once a month since showing up at Marietta’s birthday party in September. But on Christmas Day?
Their close proximity when Winnie walked in spoke of something more. Her mother-in-law was eighty! And Kenji Ito was older than that. Sure, they’d been childhood sweethearts, but—
Winnie shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory of the faded photos and Valentines the family had found while sorting the basement storeroom a few months ago. Who was she to deny the older folks their friendship... or more?
Marietta cleared her throat. “Where is Charlie? I thought you might bring him by last week.”
Kenji wasn’t likely the sort to blab Winnie’s secrets. Not when he’d lived in Bridgeview most of his life and had kept to himself the whole time, while his former girlfriend and her husband populated the entire neighborhood with their sons, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren. Although Kenji had married, he and Fumiko had never had children.
It would be rude to leave now, so Winnie pulled off her boots and hung her jacket. “He’s gone to Seattle for a few days.”
“Oh?” Marietta’s brows pulled tight in a frown.
“Dominic came home late last night. It seems he and Katri are at odds.”
“I will pray.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure what is going on. Well, that’s not completely true.” Winnie took a deep breath. “Michael is upset that I’m seeing Charlie. He told Dominic. Dominic also thinks it is awkward. Katri’s mother made some snide comments to Katri about it, and now...” She threw her hands in the air. And that covered everything but the kissing bits, which Al’s mother didn’t need to know about just yet. If ever, at the rate things were crumbling.
Marietta nodded slowly. “I have wondered about Michael and pray for him every day. It is still very hard for him, si?”
“Yes. It’s like the more time goes by, the more he regresses, as though it’s his job to make sure no one forgets his father. Especially me, but that’s crazy. I’ll never forget Al. You know that.”
“I know.” Marietta exchanged a glance with Kenji.
Winnie didn’t even want to know what that was about. Marietta had been a widow for twenty-five years. No one could accuse her of rushing into another relationship after Salvador’s death. Not like that hussy of a daughter-in-law, Winnie. Only two years, and look at her!
Who cared if people thought it was too soon? Not people in general, no, but Michael did matter. He was her child. Al’s child. Michael deserved her respect, but giving him all the control seemed unwise. But it wasn’t just her youngest son. It was also her oldest. For Dominic, the problem was whom Winnie had chosen, not the timing.
“And he has counseling, si?”
“He still sees Rebekah Roper once a month, even though he’s at the middle school now, and she’s the counselor at the elementary school. Maybe he should go oftener. I don’t know. I’ll talk to her about it.” That would mean one more Bridgeview neighbor knowing the situation with Charlie, but Rebekah would keep things confidential. Maybe Winnie should be seeking her friend’s counsel herself.
Kenji cleared his throat. “May I speak?”
Marietta reached over and patted his knee.
Winnie averted her gaze. “Of course.”
“I have no son. You know this. But I will tell you what I know, and that is life is short. I see this, even though I am eighty-six years old and have lived a long life.”
Hot tears stung Winnie’s eyes. Yes, life was indeed short, or at least unpredictable in length. Al had only been forty-nine when he’d heard his Master’s voice: Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.
And she’d been left behind to pick up the pieces and guide Al’s five children in dealing with the loss of their father while she grieved herself.
It had been hard. Many days, brutally difficult. Many nights, even worse.
“Winnifred.” Marietta’s voice was gentle. “Kenji is right. My Salvador also left me too soon. I was fifty-five. My life was full with my five boys and their families, but tears filled my pillow in the night hours.”
Oh, how Winnie