“Oh. Yeah. Good point. So … what do you think about the flowers from Bruno?” There was both coyness and challenge in that question. She was digging for dirt.
I sighed, but a small part of me wanted to smile. As we were leaving for the resort, a deliveryman had arrived, holding a vase of what must have been two dozen red roses. They were beautiful. No, more than that—spectacular. But they also wouldn’t fit in the rental SUV, what with all our bags and my work trunk. I was bringing along a selection of weapons, sturdy boots, and a change of clothes. Because despite the best of plans, my life often sucked. The trunk was heavy steel with three kinds of locks. It would take at least two strong men to move it—or one petite woman with vampire strength. Dawna had tried to insist I leave it home.
In turn, I insisted she leave behind at least one of her three makeup cases. Emma broke the deadlock by suggesting I take the flowers to Gran’s to save them from the wear and tear of the long trip to the spa. It was a good solution except that now, as we drove to Gran’s, Emma was spitting leaves, because the arrangement really did take up about half of the backseat.
The Glades retirement center on Parker Road wasn’t a typical apartment complex. It was a combination of a high-rise nursing home and clustered groups of elegant assisted-living bungalows. There was the requisite golf course, site of an even higher-priced retirement community. There were pools, fountains, and gardens everywhere.
Gran was in the assisted-living cluster … not because she needed that much help but because she wanted to live among women she knew. Ahn Long, Dawna’s bá nôi, or paternal grandmother, lived there, and so did several members of Gran’s church group. Each of the connected single-story townhomes had two bedrooms and a small kitchen. Everything in the apartments could be easily navigated or reached by those using walkers or wheelchairs. Gran’s unit was much smaller than the house she’d lived in for so long, but she seemed happy there. As we walked up the smooth concrete sidewalks that snaked among the greenery, she greeted us with a smile.
“Oh! What beautiful flowers, punkin. Who are they from?”
“Bruno. I think he’s trying to make up.”
Her brows rose and she appraised the flowers again. “As well he should. They’re a start at least. But make sure you let him stew for a few days before you acknowledge them. He needs to know you can’t be bought so easily.”
My jaw dropped. It really did. That was so unlike any advice Gran had ever given me that I was frankly stunned. When boys had given me flowers in school, she’d coo and fuss about their beauty and insist I call immediately to thank the boy.
“That card still gives me tingles,” Emma commented. And I couldn’t disagree. She pulled the small white card from the tall plastic fork buried in the leaves and read it aloud with a dramatic flair, one hand held over her heart: “ ‘Celia, I’m so sorry for everything. I understand now why you were upset. You were right. I was wrong. Is there any way you can forgive me? I’m coming to California and want to see you. Please. Call me. Bruno.’ ” She sighed. “It’s like the next-to-last scene of a romance movie. Yum.”
Yes, there had been little flutters in my heart when I’d read the card and I’d immediately wanted to call him and scream, Yes! Of course I want to see you! Then reality had sunk in.
“It’s not that easy, Em.” I closed my eyes again, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Either it was time for another shake or I was just starting to realize the gravity of the problem.
Gran apparently knew what I was feeling. “Emma, honey, life isn’t always like a romance movie. I watched Celia’s whole relationship with that man, just like you. They were engaged, so I watched close. He said all the right things, but his actions spoke different too often. I want to believe that he’s changed. I do, because I truly think he loves her. And this is a good first step. But how long do you honestly believe his understanding will last? That’s what he still needs to prove. That he can accept Celie the way she is.”
Emma’s face crumbled. Dawna reached over and put a hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Celia. I know how much he hurt you.”
That was the crux of the problem. It did hurt. I wanted it to work … desperately. But Bruno was who he was and I couldn’t expect him to change. He was an old-fashioned Italian American who honestly believed in hearth and home. A woman was expected to fill a home with children, laughter, and love. To Bruno, that was a primal thing that was more important than anything else. It was the life he had grown up in and it was what he wanted for himself. I respected that, but that’s not what I see as my role in life. At least not now.
Now I’m about keeping people safe. It’s my business and, more, I’m happy throwing myself into danger. I’m willing to neglect home and hearth when necessary. Those two worldviews don’t mix well. In truth, I wouldn’t want him to change. I know he feels the same about me. Our relationship would always be based on an uneasy truce, no matter how reluctant either of us was to admit it.
“Anyone can change,” Emma said after a long silence. “I truly believe that. If you try hard enough and want it bad enough, you can change.” The words were quiet but impassioned and almost too personal to hear out loud.
She wasn’t just talking about Bruno and we all knew it. The taint of the demonic isn’t easy to escape, and I can’t run from my fangs. The main reason we were going on this trip was as an escape from our own brushes with death and worse.
Gran stepped forward to pull Emma into a hug. “Of course people can change, honey. It just takes time and wanting it bad enough that nothing else is more important. And it takes people supporting you, keeping you on track.” I knew she wasn’t just talking about Bruno anymore, or even Emma. She was talking about all of us but, I suspected, mostly about Mom.
Lord, but we were a messed-up bunch.
“All right,” I said after a long pause, “I’ll call him. I promise. But next week, okay? This is our ‘ladies only’ weekend.”
Emma pulled back from Gran’s arms and beamed at me, while Gran offered me a sad half smile of solidarity. I knew she’d stand behind me, whatever happened. She was the one constant in my life … the only person I could really count on.
Dawna shook her arms, letting out the tension. “So, Emily, how are you liking the tai chi lessons? Bá Nôi says you’re really doing well.”
Huh? Dawna’s grandmother was giving Gran tai chi lessons? She hadn’t mentioned that.
Gran laughed and made a graceful movement of her arm, ending with a flattened palm held toward me. “Oh yes. For several weeks now. It’s really improving my flexibility. Ahn is a wonderful teacher.” She walked past me and started toward the entrance to her apartment. “But we should get those roses out of the sun. Please, come inside.”
I was surprised to see Pili sitting on my grandmother’s couch, holding a cup of tea. Gran didn’t even like tea. There were colorful brochures with pictures of exotic locales scattered all over the table. Dawna clapped her hands in delight. “Oh! You are going away? I know you’re going to have a wonderful time.”
Huh? I didn’t like the feeling that I was completely in the dark. I plastered on a smile and nudged Dawna’s shoulder. “Could you come help me with the roses in the kitchen, please?” She turned, confused, so I gave her one of my patented I need to talk with you. Now. looks.
“Oh! Sure. Yeah, we should probably trim the ends, since they’ve been sitting so long.” Dawna always had been quick on the uptake.
Gran sat down at the table and picked up her cup. “Do sit down, Emma, and have a cup of tea. Celia, the flower snips are in the drawer next to the stove and the trash can is under the sink.”