Chapter Twenty-One
Willow half rose from her chair, prepared to intervene in case her grandmother pushed Cami away. While she knew from their earlier conversation that her mother had no intention of forgiving Cami, her aunt, who’d joined them via Zoom fifteen minutes before, seemed willing to put the past behind them, and so had Carmen. But now Willow wasn’t so sure. Her grandmother wasn’t embracing Cami, her arms hung limply at her sides, but her mouth was working and her eyes were shiny.
Sage pulled out the chair beside Willow and took a seat. “Stop worrying and sit down,” she whispered. “It’ll be fine. Look at Nonna’s face.”
Willow wasn’t looking at her grandmother now. She was listening to Cami.
“I don’t know what I did to make you guys leave me behind,” she sobbed, “but whatever it was, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please say you forgive me. Please.”
Carmen lifted her hands, framing Cami’s tear-streaked face between them. “It’s done, cara. It’s been too long. You’re forgiven.” She kissed Cami on both cheeks, and then she stepped back and took her daughter by the hand. “Come, we’ll get the food. We’ll celebrate.” Carmen smiled at Riley. “You come too. You can tell me what trouble my daughter got you into this week.”
Sitting across from Willow, her mom threw up her hands, her expression stony. “That’s it?” she muttered. “We just welcome her back to the family like she didn’t—”
“Gia, enough. It’s done,” Willow heard her aunt Eva whisper fiercely.
“Ma. I wasn’t that bad!” Cami laughed, oblivious to her sisters quarreling behind her. But then she spun around. “Wait. I haven’t said hi to Gia yet.” She flashed her sister a movie-star smile and ran over, giving her a hug.
“This won’t be good,” Sage murmured.
Their mother sat stiffly while her sister embraced her. Cami obviously hadn’t noticed Gia’s less-than-welcoming expression or the fact that she didn’t hug her back. “I missed you so much! Don’t leave me here by myself again.” She looked around. “Where’s Eva? Didn’t she come home with you?”
Willow’s aunt leaned forward, bringing her nose to the screen. “I’m here, Cami. I’m, uh, in London.”
Cami moved to the laptop on the table. “When are you coming home?”
“Soon. We’ll be home soon.”
“Good.” Cami gave her sister a teary-eyed smile. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Eva said on a hoarse whisper, leaning against Lila, who put her arm around her mother.
Carmen called to Cami, saying something in Italian. Cami grinned, waving. “I’ve gotta go. Don’t want to piss off Mussolini.”
Eva laughed. “You haven’t changed. Only you could get away with saying that to Ma.”
Cami grinned and ran to Carmen, who was shaking her head with a smile. Hooking her arms through her mother’s and Riley’s, Cami skipped to the kitchen.
Her tanned face darkening, her green eyes narrowing at her sister on the screen, Gia began yelling at Eva in Italian. Eva fired back in Italian, and then the two of them went at it.
“We have to learn to speak Italian. We’re missing all the good stuff,” Sage said, and then got up, rounding the table to calm their mother down. She put an arm around Gia’s shoulders. “Take a breath.”
Willow’s uncle appeared behind her aunt, wrapped an arm around her neck, and then lowered his mouth to her ear. He was talking to her in Italian, and whatever he said had her aunt nodding and smiling up at him.
Willow glanced from her aunt, uncle, and cousin to her mom and her sister, and for some reason, she felt very much alone sitting by herself on the other side of the table. A warm hand curved around the back of her neck, and she looked up to see Noah looking down at her, concern darkening his indigo eyes. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head, and he raised his gaze, looking from her mother to her aunt on the screen. Her aunt’s eyes went wide, no doubt at the stone-cold expression on Noah’s face.
“It’s not what you think,” Willow told him, realizing how it must look to him, especially with her obviously trying not to cry.
“Maybe you should tell me what’s going on, then.”
“I will.” She pushed back from the table and stood.
Sage got up and came around the table. Taking Willow by the shoulders, she searched her face. “You told me you were okay. You said you were good.”
“I am. It’s just…” She glanced at Noah and then returned her gaze to her sister.
Sage nodded. “Right. Go talk to him.”
“I’m Gia. Willow’s mother. I apologize for what you walked into. We’re not usually like this. It’s been an emotional day.”
“Your daughter and I are taking a walk, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t upset Cami while we’re gone. She’s had a rough day.” His voice was as cold as the winter winds off the bay. “Sage?”
“I’ve got her covered, Noah. You don’t have to worry about Cami or Riley. I promise.”
He nodded, his gaze moving around the table as if daring anyone to say a word. They didn’t. Her mother, aunt, and cousin stared at him in stunned silence. She thought her uncle might’ve laughed. Probably because the Rosetti women were rarely stunned speechless. He might not have found it funny if he’d heard the part of their conversation where her family learned Willow was falling for a man who was quite possibly her first cousin. Her grandmother hadn’t been fazed by the news. According to her, half the marriages in Southern Italy were between first cousins. Lila had quipped, “In what century?”
But it wasn’t as if that were something Willow, or Noah, she was sure, would even consider. They’d have to settle for being friends. She supposed that was why, when he guided her onto the back deck and then down the stairs, she was holding back tears.
“You should’ve called me, Willow. Or at the very least waited until Sage was here to tell your family about Cami.” He stood in the sand at the bottom of the stairs, scowling at the window as if he was contemplating strangling her entire family. Then he looked at her, and his expression softened, and he put his arms around her, drawing her close.
“That’s not why I’m crying. My mom wasn’t happy about Cami, but my zia, nonna, and cousin were okay with it. I think they might actually be happy she’s here. At least seventeen-year-old Cami.”
He leaned back and looked down at her. “So what’s with the tears?”
She pressed her palm on his chest and then moved it, waving her hand between them. “It’s about you and me… about us. There can’t be an us. I mean, I don’t know if there’s an us—”
“There’s an us. We’ve been an us since we were fifteen.”
“We were a different kind of an us than the us I’m talking about.”
“We were fifteen. We couldn’t be the us we are now or the us that I’m very much hoping we’ll be.”
“I wanted that too. I wanted it so much,” she said, stepping back and swiping a finger under her lashes. “And now we can’t be anything more than Summer Noah and Willow. Even that might be too close.”
“I think I’m missing something.”
“You are. I’m sorry. It’s just been a lot.” She looked around and then took him by the hand, leading him away from the restaurant to the water’s edge. “My mother’s my mother, but she’s not my biological mother. Cami is.” She squeezed his hand. “And Noah, my mom says that your uncle is my father.”
He let go of her hand and stared at her, looking stunned.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. But Noah, I’m almost certain we’re not cousins. At least fifty percent certain.”
“Willow, you have nothing to apologize for.” He took her hand. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“I’m not sure I want to. That’s what my mother said before she dropped her bomb, bombs on me.”
“You really have had a hell of day, haven’t you?” he said, drawing her into his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head. “Don’t worry. I’d hug you even if you are my cousin.”
She buried her face in his chest. “I don’t want you to be my cousin.”
“Trust me, sweetheart. I don’t want to be your cousin any more than you want to be mine.” He gave her a light squeeze. “Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, really feeling. I’m assuming when you told Sage you’re good, you were referring to learning Cami was your biological mom. But I can’t believe it would be that easy for you to bounce back after that kind of news.”
She nodded. “I haven’t had a chance to completely process it. I don’t know what it says about me, but I couldn’t get past the cousin thing.”
He stepped away from her, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Come on. Let’s sit over here.” He guided her several feet from the shore, and they sat side by side on the sand.
She leaned against him. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me that all I could focus on was you and me?”
“No, but I’m biased. I like that your biggest concern was how it impacted us. And, like you said, it’s a lot to process.”
“It’s not just that. My mom was torn up. You saw her. She looks like she’s been crying for a week, and she feels guilty, so guilty. I couldn’t make her feel worse by asking questions or letting her see that I was angry that they’ve kept it from me for all this time.” She shook her head. “Not angry, disappointed, I guess.”
“You can be honest with me, Willow. I’m not going to judge you. I want to be here for you. I want you to be able to say whatever it is you’re feeling.”
“Ugh.” She flopped onto her back in the sand. “Stop being Mr. Perfect. Stop saying exactly what I need to hear.”
He lay on his back beside her, turned his head, and winked at her. “Perfect Noah, I think I like it.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “I’m being serious.”
“So was I. Talk to me.”
She blew out a breath. “I can’t be mad at Cami. Maybe because I’ve gotten to know her this past week, and she was just a year older than she is now—a year older than she thinks she is, I mean—when she had me. Can you imagine?”
“No. In fact, the idea of the Cami we know having a baby is slightly terrifying. She’s lucky she had your mother to turn to, and you’re lucky that it was Gia who raised you. I don’t mean to sound judgmental. I know plenty of young women who raise children on their own without the help of their family and do a fantastic job, Robyn for one. But think about what Cami must’ve been dealing with at the time. Not only was she a pregnant seventeen-year-old, the father of her baby had recently died in a tragic car accident.”
“I can’t imagine.” She picked up a handful of sand, watching as it seeped through her fingers. “So you think it’s true. I am your cousin.”
“There’s a possibility Flynn is your father. We’ll take a DNA test. Riley will too. We’ll have an answer by the end of the week.” He took her hand, gently shaking it to get her to look at him. “If my uncle was your father, Willow, you’re entitled to a third of the sale of the corporation.”
She pulled her hand from his and shook her head. “No, I’m not. It’s yours and Riley’s, and I want no part of it. I mean it, Noah.”
“It’s what my uncle would have wanted. My grandparents and my mother too. But more important, it’s what I’d want, and so would Riley.”
“No. The subject is closed. I won’t take money that belongs to you and Riley.”
“At the risk of sounding like a self-entitled ass, Riley and I have more money than we could spend in three lifetimes, and that was before the sale of Bennett Broadcasting. Both my grandparents’ families were wealthy and invested well. They left everything to my mother, and she had extensive portfolios apart from the Bennett Broadcasting Group. I’ve established a foundation, and with Riley’s consent, the funds from the sale of the corporation will go directly into it. Once the company is dissolved, I’ll be moving key staff, including Robyn, to the foundation.” He rubbed his head. “Totally sounded like an ass.”
“You don’t. You couldn’t. And I think it’s wonderful you’re establishing a charitable foundation.” She smiled. “And I’m really glad Robyn will still be working for you.”
“I thought you would be. But I don’t think you realize what this would mean for you. The other sales have been finalized, and while, technically, legally, you could contest the sale, I’d ask that you don’t. It would put too many jobs at risk as well as organizations that are depending on the money we’ve earmarked for charitable donations. But I’d personally give you what you were entitled to.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “Let me finish, please. A third of Channel 5 would be yours, as well as a third of the beach house.”
Okay, so she hadn’t thought about that.
“You would have the means to buy Riley and me out.”
“That’s your home. Yours and Riley’s. I’m not taking it. I’m not family. Even if we found out that I am, technically, I’m not.”
“Sweetheart, I’m selling the beach house and closing Channel 5.”
“Unless we can find a buyer,” she reminded him, and that’s when what he was saying truly sank in. “I could buy it?”
His lips twitched. “You could. In fact, you could probably buy a thousand Channel 5’s.”
“I don’t want a thousand Channel 5’s. I just want one.”
“I know, and that’s why I”—he cleared his throat—“admire you so much.”
Her chest got tight and the backs of her eyes burned. She was almost positive he’d been going to tell her he loved her. “You know how much the station means to me,” she said, struggling to get the words past the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “How much I’ve wanted to save it. How I’d do anything to save it. But now that there’s a chance my dream of saving the station might come true, I don’t want to pay the price. It’s too high. I’d have to give up the dream of me and you.”