Lavished with Lavender - Valerie Comer Page 0,31

didn’t relinquish it.

“We’ve found enough.” Uncle Franco’s voice was heavy. “It must be now.”

“No.” Kenna shifted closer to the door, blocking it. “Sh-she’s asleep. Please don’t wake her for this.”

The thought of his grandmother suffering a heart attack at the shock of this resurfacing memory made Tony cringe. Definitely best not to thrust the evidence beneath her nose before she’d fully woken up.

Uncle Dino looked sharply at Kenna. “Don’t you worry, coming so far while she sleeps?”

Kenna lifted her phone from a deep pocket. “We have a monitor app. She’ll call my name when she wakens.”

He nodded. “Tony, put these things by the door. We’ll take them up later when we go. I only pray we find nothing to add to the evidence.”

Tony tucked the items into a small cardboard box, carried it through to his part of the basement, and set it on the counter. He braced his hands on the edge and stared out the high window, his mind whirling.

He’d never thought of what life must have been like for his grandparents as young people. Nonna had crossed the Atlantic as a young girl after the war, with her parents and sister. Nonni’s family had already lived in Spokane a generation, his father a supervisor in one of the area’s aluminum plants.

But to think of Nonna as a young girl interested in a different boy... that was just too strange. Too off-putting.

He only became aware of Kenna beside him by her floral fragrance. “You snuck up on me.”

She laughed and arched her eyebrows. “These are quiet, sneaky shoes.”

“About that. I’m sorry.” Although he had to admit he liked the softer look on her. “I was a jerk.”

“Me, too.” She sighed. “I never thought about anyone but myself.”

Tony had a thousand questions at that comment, but zipped them inside. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“Me, too.” She stared out the window. Her cheeks seemed a bit pinker than usual. Probably a bit more makeup. Her lips seemed pinker, too.

He bumped her shoulder with his own, just enough to make contact. Just enough to see if he might be imagining things.

Kenna met his gaze, her gray eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. She was only a few inches away.

Tony pressed a little closer.

So did she.

He pulled away. What was he, some kind of crazy? He was in no position to start a relationship with anyone, let alone his grandmother’s nurse. He didn’t even have his own place to live. This situation had temporary stamped all over it. He didn’t need a temporary relationship to round it out.

12

If Tony hadn’t pulled away, she would have. Absolutely.

Kenna jogged up the outside steps from the basement apartment — an exercise much easier in her new slip-ons than her heels — and entered the house via the patio doors. She tilted her head a moment. Whew. It was still quiet. She didn’t want to face Mrs. Santoro right now. Not after the discovery of the old woman’s mementoes... or the discovery that Tony might mean something to Kenna.

Or might not. Just because he’d called an end to hostilities and invited her to Antonio’s did not mean anything further. In no way did she want anything more. She was done with men, remember? Completely, undeniably, and forever.

She dug into the bottom drawer of her dresser, underneath the four pairs of identical gray leggings, and pulled out a framed photo of her wedding to Maurice in Vegas. She propped it on top of the dresser and stared at it.

There. Seeing that every day would help keep her from doing something foolish again. One idiot action in a lifetime was enough.

Kenna took a long cleansing breath before her gaze landed on the church bulletin from Sunday. The pastor had spoken of setting aside anxiety and leaning into peace. How did someone do that? She picked up the paper and opened it.

Don’t be anxious about things; instead, pray. Pray about everything. He longs to hear your requests, so talk to God about your needs and be thankful for what has come. And know that the peace of God (a peace that is beyond any and all of our human understanding) will stand watch over your hearts and minds in Jesus, the Anointed One. Philippians 4:6-7 (The Voice)

The knot in her gut said she was anxious, no matter how much she denied it. But praying wasn’t a medically acceptable answer. Meditation for light cases. Counseling, maybe, or hypnosis for deeper problems.

Been there, done that. And it hadn’t helped.

That wasn’t entirely