Chapter 21
At the back of the funeral home, Nathan took Makenna’s arm, marveling once again at the genuine grief the new widow portrayed.
How could anyone have loved Pops so completely?
What had she seen in him, especially in the last few years, that no one else had?
She must have hoped to inherit the house and whatever Pops might have in assets, but the will had deeded the house to Nathan.
He didn’t even want it, wrapped as it was in so many unpleasant memories.
But when he’d offered to sign it over to her, she’d turned him down.
“No, he wanted you to have it. I know he did. Don’t worry about me. Maurice left me enough, and I’ll go back to nursing. That’s my first love, anyway.”
So she hadn’t been a money-grubber all along, not that there’d been much left over.
And Nathan owned a house he didn’t want.
First, they needed to get through the funeral.
Nathan’s three half-brothers filed to the front seats behind Makenna and him.
A smattering of maybe fifty people dotted the chapel, folks come to pay their last respects to a man who’d once been a part of their community before he’d drifted away through drink and disease.
The service was short, and the chaplain’s words few.
There wasn’t much to say. Those last days in the hospital, Nathan had talked to Pops about God’s love.
Whether the dying man had accepted salvation, Nathan wasn’t certain.
A good, caring son would have been part of his father’s life, would have lived out his beliefs in front of his father.
Nathan hadn’t been that son. He hadn’t found his way back to God that long ago himself.
Afterward, Ray Santoro’s strong hand gripped his. “How are you holding up, son?”
For the first time, emotion threatened to flood Nathan. Perhaps it was the gentle voice calling him son. “Holding on, sir. Holding on.”
“It’s none of my business what happened between you and my daughter, Nathan, but I hope you two will give each other another chance.
I know your father’s affairs have taken most of your time and focus in the past week or two, and that’s as it should be.
But Jasmine is hurting, too, and I hope you’ll find your way back together. ”
Terrible as it seemed, Nathan had been glad of the distraction Pops’s final days had provided.
He hadn’t even minded missing the wedding they’d planned to attend together two weeks ago.
Even so, his thoughts had spiraled back to Jasmine every spare moment.
Had replayed their last words to each other.
What could he have said differently? Renounced Basil for her sake?
Agreed with her that God’s grace didn’t extend to her brother? He couldn’t.
He gripped Ray’s hand. “I really appreciate that, sir, but the ball is in her court. I’m begging God constantly to work things out. I love your daughter, Ray. Though I went astray, I always have loved her. I want to marry her if she’ll have me.”
A sheen glistened in the older man’s eyes. “We’d be pleased to have you in our family. Grace thinks of you as one of her own.”
Emotion caught Nathan’s throat. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what your words mean to me but, right now, I’m not certain I’ll ever get the chance. She’s a stubborn woman.”
A half-grin poked at Ray’s cheeks. “She’s a lot like my mother. Both of them are all heart behind their crusts. They love deeply and forever.”
Nathan swallowed hard in an attempt to keep his emotions under control. He glanced around the thinning group in the chapel. Not far away, his brother Connor talked to a pregnant teenaged girl standing next to Peter.
“You keeping the baby?” Connor’s gaze flitted to the large belly then back to the girl’s face.
Dafne nodded, chin up. “I’ve tried to convince myself he’d be better off adopted into a real family, but I can’t do it. He’s mine.”
“It’s a boy?”
“Yes.”
Connor drove his hand through his carefully gelled hair. “Man, I’m sorry, Daf. I shouldn’t have, you know…”
“Got me pregnant? Took two of us.”
“No, I mean… yes. But, I shouldn’t have pushed you about the abortion. I just didn’t want to deal with it all.”
Dafne’s eyes narrowed. “You did a good job of not dealing with it.”
Peter draped his arm over his sister’s shoulders .
“I, uh…” Suddenly Connor seemed to realize they had an audience. He glanced over at Nathan and Ray a few feet away, his face flushing. “Yeah, well, that’s all I wanted to say. Sorry. For everything.”
Peter’s hand slid down Dafne’s arm then back to her shoulder.
She leaned into her big brother. “You’re forgiven, Connor,” she said softly. “It’s just that two wrongs don’t make a right. God loves me even though I messed up, and He loves you, too.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s cool. Thanks.” Connor spun and strode toward the back of the chapel.
“I’m proud of my niece,” came Ray’s quiet voice.
Nathan turned back to Jasmine’s father. “She’s amazing. She’ll be a good mom.”
“With a lot of help from Dino and Betta. It won’t be easy for her, but if she keeps leaning on the Lord for direction, she’ll be fine.”
Leaning on the Lord for direction.
Nathan met Ray’s gaze. “Maybe I’ve been praying too much for Jasmine to change her mind. Maybe I haven’t been praying enough for God’s will to be done.”
“Have you thought about downsizing?” Jasmine sat across the large dining room table from her grandmother. Anything to avoid too much thought of Nathan’s dad’s funeral earlier that day. She should have been there for him but, how, with things so horrid between them?
Apologize , a little voice inside her whispered. Forgive Nathan. Forgive Basil . Take the first step .
Nonna straightened, a scowl creasing her face, and set her coffee cup down with a smack. “Don’t speak such nonsense. This is my home.”
Jasmine blinked back into Nonna’s kitchen. “I know. I was just wondering—”
“Well, don’t. I may be old, but I’m not senile. And I can manage this place, so long as I have a little help.”
A lot of help was more like it. There were cobwebs in the entry and grime in the corners where Nonna’s fast-flailing mop didn’t quite reach. Empty canning jars had been slowly taking over one section of the kitchen counter for months.
Shouldn’t she be a better granddaughter and come clean the house in her spare time?
Jasmine struggled with guilt, but she didn’t have spare time.
Not between Bridgeview Backyards, the massage clinic, and helping Linnea with the final prep for her wedding in two weeks.
Then it wouldn’t be long before the garden was in full swing and, no doubt, Nonna would need help with all the canning.
Jasmine was already doing everything she could to help.
And, by the stubborn line to Nonna’s jaw, nothing more would be accepted.
But watching her grandmother age was painful, too.
One day, Nonna wouldn’t be here for her.
One day, this house would be silent, the canning jars distributed amongst the family, the cookie jar shaped like the colosseum on someone else’s kitchen counter.
The back door opened, and Peter, Alex, and Basil swept in, covered in sweat. “Man, I couldn’t even get around you today,” Peter complained. “You were everywhere.”
Basil chuckled. “No way were you gonna win.” Then his gaze landed on Jasmine’s, and his grin faded. “Hey.”
Nonna surged to her feet. “It is good to see you playing three-on-three again. I have cookies and iced tea. ”
“Thanks, Nonna.” Peter draped an arm over her shoulder, and she shrugged away, waving her hand in front of her nose. He chuckled. “We knew we could count on you.”
Basil still stood watching Jasmine from just inside the door as Alex opened the cookie jar and put a few cookies on a plate.
“Hey,” Jasmine said. Really, Lord? Here in front of everyone? She took a deep breath. “Sorry I haven’t been around for you, bro. I, I’ve been stuck on myself, not thinking about you.”
Her brother shrugged. “I haven’t exactly made it easy.”
No kidding. “I’m not responsible for you.” She’d somehow felt she was, all her life. Why? “Just for myself. My actions, my reactions, my obedience to Jesus. And I haven’t been doing a very good job of that the past few years.” If ever.
Jasmine tried to break from Basil’s gaze, but somehow it was impossible. “Can you forgive me?”
A shadow crossed his face. “Yeah, sure. I’ve gotten way too much pleasure out of goading you.” Basil glanced at Peter and Alex, who watched as though at a table tennis match. “You guys, too. Being a rebel was a whole lot easier than measuring up to being a perfect Santoro.”
Nonna harrumphed.
“Nobody needs to be a perfect anything, cuz,” Peter said. “There’s no such thing, and we’re all individuals.”
“Nobody put you in a stair-stepping lineup with your three perfect brothers and your perfect sister.”
“Perfect?” Alex chortled. “You have got to be kidding me. Except Jasmine, of course. Always Daddy’s little angel.”
Seriously. “I got in my share of trouble. The disappointment in Dad’s eyes killed me every time. ”
Basil shook his head. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”
“And you don’t know what it’s like to be me,” Alex agreed.
“I always envied you guys,” Peter put in.
“What I wouldn’t have given to have a brother.
All I had was two little sisters, way younger than me.
And while Ava and Dafne are a long way from perfect — trust me — I’m kinda proud of both of them now.
” He jerked his chin toward Basil. “Daf screwed up. But she’s letting God work in her life through the pregnancy.
From what I can see, all of us are going to do stupid things from time to time—”
“Though driving drunk takes the cake,” muttered Alex.
“—but it’s how we handle ourselves in the aftermath that counts for the long haul. Like, are we going to be bitter? Keep going on the stupid path? Or learn from it and make changes?”
Jasmine had wandered the stupid path long enough. The bitter path. She held up her pointer finger. “I’m choosing the learn-from-it side. The repentance-and-forgiveness side. The it’s-not-all-about-Jasmine side.”
Basil sighed and held up both hands. “Fine, fine. Yes, I’ve been thinking a lot. A night in lockup and the prospect of many more to come does that to a guy.”
“I’ve got a question.” Alex handed a chocolate chip cookie to his brother.
“Yeah?”
“Why Dixie, of all people?”
Basil ran his hand over his eyes. “About that. So ignorant.”
At least he was seeing it now, even if it was a bit late.
“I wasn’t going to do anything with her, if you must know. Definitely not while she’s living with Dan. Just a few drinks and a dance or two. Dumbest night of my life.”
Peter took a bite of his cookie and looked around the kitchen. “Where’d Nonna go?”
Jasmine surged to her feet. “Oh, no. I didn’t even see her leave.” She jogged into the living room then down the hallway to her grandmother’s bedroom. “Nonna? You okay?”
Nonna knelt by her bed, hands folded on the quilted cover. She opened her eyes and turned toward the door with a little smile. “I needed to thank my Heavenly Father for what He’s doing in the lives of my precious grandchildren. He is so good.”
Tears misted Jasmine’s vision. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been about as stupid as Basil.” Just not as visibly… but she needed to stop thinking like that. How did that scripture go? Man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.
Nonna held out her hand. “Can you help me up, mi tesoro ? I forgot how it is difficult these days. I usually pray sitting in my chair, but I forgot.”
Nonna’s treasure. Jasmine smiled through her tears as she grasped the outstretched hand. “I’d be happy to help you, Nonna. As long as you need me to.”
But Peter stepped around Jasmine, tucked both hands under Nonna’s armpits, and hoisted her to her feet. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Pietro.” She patted his cheek. “You are a fine man. When are you going to get married and give me babies to hold?”
Peter chuckled. “God hasn’t sent me the right woman yet, Nonna. You and me, we need to be patient.”
She sighed. “And Basil. And Alex. And Antonio. How long do you all think I will live? Time to get busy.” She pointed to the rug beside her bed. “I will pray.”
“You go ahead and do that, but maybe from your chair.” Peter waggled his eyebrows. “It’s Jasmine you should be nagging, you know, not me. She’s got a perfectly fine guy who’d love to get hitched. Maybe now that she’s repented of her stubbornness, she can get on with it.”
Jasmine slugged Peter’s arm. “Mind your own business.”
“I am, Jas, I am. Anything that’s the business of one Santoro is the business of us all. Basil’s right about that.”
Maybe he was.