chapter 11
Once Julian was gone, Charlotte felt a moment of panic. She didn’t know this girl she was suddenly responsible for—without
ever having made the decision to become her guardian. She supposed she could refuse to take Lilly home, but what would happen
to her then? How could she abandon this child the way Luca had when he’d dropped her off with all her belongings—as if he
couldn’t get rid of her fast enough?
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Lilly murmured with a shrug.
“Why don’t we put on our swimsuits and get into the hot tub?”
Lilly looked startled, as if she’d been expecting a heavy—and potentially heartbreaking—conversation. They needed to have
a serious talk at some point, but Charlotte didn’t want to hit her with painful and difficult questions before establishing
some kind of rapport, especially since she couldn’t offer any promises that might make the girl feel better—not without the
risk of letting her down again later.
Lilly blinked, clearly thrown off balance. “You want to get into the hot tub?”
Charlotte gestured around them. “It’s breezy and cool this afternoon. I think it’d be fun, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“You have a swimsuit?”
“In my suitcase.”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you back here after we change.”
Charlotte smiled to reassure her before leading the way into the house. Lilly had to feel as if she was lost at sea, but Charlotte
felt just as lost—completely unsure of her future, especially with her impending divorce. Nothing was turning out as she’d
expected, which had to be what Lilly was feeling, too.
She’d just fastened her bikini top when she got a text message from Cliff.
We beat the Cavs. Did you see it?
She’d missed the game. She wouldn’t have watched it even if she hadn’t been on a plane when it was taking place. She doubted
she’d ever watch basketball again. That was one of the few positives of her divorce. She would no longer have to stress over
a sporting event, whether or not her husband would perform to the best of his ability—and what would happen if he didn’t.
As precarious as her situation with her younger sister was at the moment, at least now she had something in her life that
was powerful enough to distract her from the misery of her impending divorce.
Uncertain as to whether she even wanted to reply—she felt sick whenever she thought of Cliff—she tossed her phone on the bed
and went into the bathroom to twist her hair up. But just as she was about to leave the room, she went over and grabbed it
again.
I’m afraid I missed it, but that’s fabulous news. Way to go.
She was about to ask him if he’d found an attorney and when she should expect divorce papers. She hadn’t consulted an attorney
herself, didn’t know the rules of such a process—how much time she’d have to respond, what would happen if she missed that
deadline because she was out of the country, how many months it would take before she was officially single again.
But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to address that issue. It was too upsetting. So she left what she’d said as it
was—after all, it was the rah-rah he was looking for—and dropped her phone on the bed again. She didn’t even want it with
her, didn’t need any reminders of the life she’d lived before.
Dressed in her orange one-piece, which was getting well-worn but was still her favorite, Lilly waited at the railing, overlooking
the ocean exactly where she’d stood before. She wished the man who’d come to Italy with Charlotte would be getting into the
hot tub with them. Julian had kind, patient eyes. The way he spoke to her made her feel safe, as if the ground weren’t about
to open up and swallow her whole. That was what it’d felt like since her mother died, as if she was in the middle of an earthquake
and had no idea what would be left standing when the shake-up was over. But Julian had gone inside to take a nap, and his
sister was already sleeping, so it would be just her and Charlotte.
If she said or did something wrong, would she be packed up and dropped off somewhere else? Because she couldn’t get it right
all the time. Why even try?
She’d probably wind up in foster care no matter what she did.
And she’d seen what foster care was like in the movies and on TV.
If she was put into some mean stranger’s home, she’d run away again and again if she had to.
She didn’t want to be a charity case, nothing but a bother.
She wouldn’t feel comfortable enough in that situation to so much as eat, let alone figure out the rest of her life.
She was tempted to run away now. Why not take off while she could?
Because she was in Italy. Where would she go? And how would she communicate? She had no friends here. Her mother had been
homeschooling her, which meant she’d been schooling herself. Sabrina had never really gotten involved other than to tell her
to go do her homework. She had to get back to America before running away would even be an option.
Maybe her sister would make that trip happen, but Lilly couldn’t imagine someone Charlotte’s age being willing to take care
of a twelve-year-old who needed food, clothes, a place to live—everything a mother would normally provide, especially if that
sister no longer had a husband. Charlotte would probably prefer to be out finding another man, not stuck taking care of a
preteen she’d just met.
Biting her bottom lip, she gazed worriedly out at the sea. Most people saw a beautiful ocean with cliffs to the right and
left bearing colorful houses. This was a vacation spot. The place to be. There were shops and restaurants and beaches. But
she saw only the hopelessness of her current situation.
Life was going to be so different now that her mother was gone. Sabrina hadn’t been the best mother. She’d dragged Lilly around
wherever she wanted to go. And the men in her life, even though they filtered in and out and never stayed for long, had always
come first.
But at least Lilly had known Sabrina loved her.
Maybe not as much as some mothers loved their children—the kind who actually made meals, helped with homework and chaperoned field trips.
But Sabrina could be generous when she was happy.
She’d taken Lilly to so many fun places over the years, and they used to laugh and talk a lot, especially when her mother was between boyfriends.
At least, Lilly had known what to expect—and what not to expect—with Sabrina. There was a level of predictability even in
her mother’s unpredictability.
The door opened and her sister stepped out wearing stylish white-framed sunglasses and a matching bikini that had only a single
shoulder strap. She looked like one of the models Lilly had seen when Sports Illustrated came to town to shoot their swimsuit issue, which frightened her. Why would anyone so young, glamorous and rich want a twelve-year-old
she hadn’t even known existed a week ago?
Although . . . Angelina Jolie was like that. Angelina had adopted several kids, just to help out.
Too bad Lilly didn’t know how to reach Angelina . . .
That was a stupid dream, anyway, she decided. Angelina wasn’t going to take her in even if Lilly could figure out how to contact
her. No one was going to take her in—if her sister wouldn’t.
“All set?” Charlotte said.
The false cheer Lilly heard made her feel like throwing up. She’d been nauseous all day, even though she’d barely eaten, and
she wasn’t sure getting into hot water would help. But she felt shivery at the same time, as if the wind was blowing right
through her, so maybe it would be okay.
She stepped into the water, found it wasn’t as hot as she’d anticipated and breathed a sigh of relief as she moved around
to the opposite side to get out of the way. Then she watched beneath her eyelashes as her beautiful older sister climbed in.
Maybe if she’d had the same dad, she’d look like that, she thought.
Instead, she was too tall for her age, all skinny arms and legs.
She remembered Luca teasing her when he first met her, telling her she looked like a fawn that was barely learning to walk.
He’d also said, with his heavy Italian accent, “Eyes too big, teeth too big, feet too big.”
He and her mother had laughed as she’d stormed out of the room, but her mother had called after her saying she’d grow into
everything eventually.
She tucked her feet underneath her so that Charlotte wouldn’t notice how big they were.
“What do you think of Italy?” her sister asked.
After being gone for three months, Lilly missed America. It was home. But she didn’t dare admit it, didn’t dare let anyone
know how badly she wanted to go back. Everyone thought Praiano was paradise. “It’s hard to live somewhere when you can’t understand
what people are saying.”
“Don’t most people here speak some English?”
“If they work in a shop or a restaurant. But if you go outside of town, where there aren’t many tourists, a lot of people,
especially the older ones, don’t speak any English.”
“I see. What made your mother—” she cleared her throat “—our mother choose Praiano?”
That question surprised Lilly. Maybe most women wouldn’t leave their home country for a man, but Sabrina would do anything.
“Luca lives here.”
“How’d they meet?” Charlotte asked.
“On a dating app.” Sabrina would have Lilly take photograph after photograph to send to the men she was talking to. It seemed
Lilly could never get the right shot the first time. Her mother wanted her to take the picture in such a way that she looked
prettier or younger or skinnier—a lot of times when she was in a swimming suit.
“Do you like Luca?”
Lilly shrugged. What she felt for her mother’s latest boyfriend was hard to explain. He hadn’t been terrible to her, but he’d only been putting up with her for the sake of her mother, which was why he’d been so eager to get rid of her as soon as Sabrina was gone.
Charlotte leaned forward. “Was he kind to you?”
“He wasn’t unkind,” she replied.