flew up to meet his, but he put a finger over his lips. Shhhh. She smiled and played along.
Sitting at the kitchen table like a queen before her court was Isadora De Novo, Beatrice’s grandmother and Caspar’s wife. She was overseeing the construction of enchiladas in a glass pan on the table while a dark-skinned man, his locks tied back with a bandanna, moved between the kitchen and the table, a neat apron wrapped around his waist.
“Now, no one needs to be eating any more snacks before dinner.” The man handed a glass to Isadora. “Miss Izzie, I’m looking at you.”
Sadia spotted him. “Ben!”
“Benjamin?” Isadora’s smile was wide and wonderful. “You’re home.” She said it with such relief Ben nearly started crying.
“Hi, Isadora.”
Sadia raced over and climbed into his arms. “How’s your room? Do you like your new closet?”
“Very much.” Ben looked over at the recent addition to the household. “You must be Zain.” With Sadia in one arm, he walked over and held his hand toward the young man. “Ben Vecchio. Really nice to meet you.”
The corner of the man’s mouth lifted as he shook Ben’s outstretched hand. “Trust me, I’ve heard all about you. Welcome home.” He moved to the stove. “Dinner should be ready in a half hour or so. I’m making chicken mole. Isadora’s recipe.”
“That sounds amazing. I haven’t had Mexican food in like two years.”
Zain smiled. “That’s just wrong. We’ll make fish tacos tomorrow.”
“I like you already.” Ben looked down as Sadia patted his cheek. “What’s up, gremlin?”
“Zain drives me to school in the morning sometimes.”
“You told me he’s a very good driver.”
“And when he fights with Dema, he moves superfast!” She made punching motions with her arms. “You should see him. His muscles are really big.”
“Oh yeah?” He glanced at Zain, who was smiling and stirring the mole.
Superfast, huh? Ben bet Dema loved that. The minute he’d clapped eyes on the man, Ben had pegged him for far more than a driver. The way he moved had the same efficiency that Dema had, the same efficiency Ben had cultivated when he’d been human.
“Are you from LA?” Ben sidled over to the counter.
Zain looked up. “Houston originally. I’ve been here for about six years now. My mother worked for Caspar and Gio back in the day.”
“When I heard he’d moved to Los Angeles, I ruthlessly stole him from Ernesto.” A cultured voice spoke in a posh British accent from the door. “One of my finer negotiations, if I do say so.”
Ben turned to see Caspar walking in from the breezeway. “Caspar.”
“Of course, the hardest part was convincing Zain to move away from the beach.”
Ben walked over, memories rushing like a waterfall.
“Come here and let me look at you.” The old man was using a cane these days, and his shoulders were significantly stooped. But his voice and his eyes were strong.
Walking behind him came Ben’s uncle, Giovanni Vecchio.
“Baba!” Sadia wiggled down and ran to her father to be picked up, carefully swerving around Caspar as Ben walked to meet him.
Caspar had been Giovanni’s child once. Then his ward, his driver, his day person. His security and confidant. His friend. And one of the few people in the world Ben had trusted almost immediately, not that he’d made it easy on Caspar when he’d been a punk twelve-year-old convinced everyone was out to get him.
“I missed you.” Ben stood in front of Caspar and the old man looked up. Once, Ben had been the one looking up.
Caspar clapped him on the shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. “It’s a fine thing.”
Is it? Ben said nothing.
The old man patted his cheek as if he’d been reading Ben’s mind. “A fine thing,” he said slowly. “In the end you’ll see.”
“I really missed you.” Ben put his arm around Caspar’s shoulders and guided him toward the kitchen table.
Beatrice rose and took the glass pan of enchiladas to the kitchen, sliding them in the oven as Giovanni moved to her and greeted her with a kiss. “Can I help?”
“Oh, please don’t.” Beatrice smiled. “We’d like dinner to be edible for Ben’s first night home.”
Sadia leaned on Giovanni’s shoulder. “Baba made me macaroni and cheese last night.”
“Did he?”
“Yes,” Giovanni said pertly. “I did.”
“Was it from a box?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes. A blue box. And it was this big” —Sadia held out her hands— “and I ate the whole thing.”
Ben sat next to Isadora and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“It’s about time you said hello to me,” she said. “Turning