“Traveler’s Creek wasn’t just a town to my grandfather any more than Rizzo’s was just a place of business. Both were his community, his home, his heart. He and his beloved Sophia dedicated themselves to community, home, and heart. Today proves what fine work they did.”

She had to pause a moment as she saw Jan turn into Raylan, bury her face against his shoulder.

“He was my heart,” she continued, “my anchor, my wings. And while I’ll miss him, I draw comfort from knowing how many loved him, and I draw solace knowing he’s with the love of his life. I draw strength knowing he expects me to continue what he and my grandmother worked for and what they built. I’ll be grateful every day for the legacy they’ve passed to me.

“He lived well, and he lived full, and he lived here. And what he began lives on. Thank you.”

When she stepped away, Hector was there, right there, to take her hand and steady her.

Friends, dozens and dozens, came to the house. Flowers filled it—those sent in sympathy. Food spread over the tables, and there Jan had overruled her. It was prepared and served by the staff of Rizzo’s.

It brought its own comfort, the crowds of people, some laughter now as well as tears. Monroe put on music in the background, the old standards her grandfather had been partial to.

It helped to see all those generations of people whose lives he’d touched in some way.

Her mother came to her, put a hand on her arm. “You did a wonderful job, Adrian. On everything.”

“You helped.”

Lina shook her head. “It was your vision for him, and I couldn’t always see it. It seemed too much, too open. But you were right. Down to the blowup of the picture of him tossing dough.”

“Was there anywhere he was happier than in the front kitchen tossing dough?”

“He had a lot of happy places. That ranked high.”

She broke off as Raylan came up with his children. Each child held a white rosebud.

“We’re sorry about Popi. He was your granddad. He was always really nice.” Bradley held out the flower for Adrian. “He said he’d hire me to make pizza when I got old enough.”

“Thank you so much.” She bent down for a hug. “And when you’re old enough, you’re hired.”

“Daddy said he’s in heaven now with Nonna and our mom.” Mariah looked up at Lina, held the flower out. “You can have this one because he was your daddy.”

It took Lina a moment to speak before she took the flower. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get a vase.”

“How are you doing?” Raylan asked Adrian.

“Better. Today really …” She looked around, so many people, the voices, the connections. “Yes, better. I’d like to talk to you—another time, a quieter place.”

“Sure. If you need anything in the meantime—”

“I know I can count on you. You’ve proven that already.” She leaned in, kissed his cheek. She started to say something more, but someone called her away.

The crowd gradually thinned, and quiet began to settle again. Monroe took Phineas and the baby home, and Hector’s Sylvie went along to help him. Maya, more than a little tired in the last stage of her pregnancy, gave Adrian a last hard hug before she left with her family.

For a short time, Adrian sat in the great room with Teesha, Hector, and Loren.

“I don’t know anybody who got a better send-off.” Hector reached over, squeezed Adrian’s hand. “You did him proud.”

“I don’t know anybody,” Loren added, “anybody who’s a regular person, who’d have so many people want to come and say adios. But … are you sure you’re going to be okay in this big house?”

“Yes. It’s not just a big house. It’s home.”

“I know, but … I thought Harry and Marshall would stay a couple more days.”

“They’ve got kids in school,” Adrian reminded him. “And my mother’s here, for now.”

“Is she staying?”

Adrian glanced at Teesha, shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. She hasn’t said.”

“Are you still looking to do the production at the beginning of May?” Hector wondered.

“I’d like to. I have to … I have to talk to her, finalize things. I’ve let that, and a lot of things, go these past couple weeks.”

“Give yourself a break.”

“I am, Teesh. I absolutely am. But getting back to work, that’s what Rizzos do. And that’ll help me. Like it helped me to have all of you here.”

“We loved him, too. And you.” Loren scooted over to kiss her. “You know, Ads, these two are spoken for. How about if we don’t find the ones worthy of us, we pledge to marry each other. Let’s give it till we’re forty.”

“I can work with that.”

“Which tells me Rizz is exhausted, and her brain’s already gone to sleep.” Teesha rose. “I’m taking these two home with me. And you, get some rest.”

Adrian stroked Sadie’s head. “I will. Maybe take a little walk with my friend here first.”

Part of her wanted them to stay, to all stay the way they’d once bunked together in the big house. She wanted to put off the moment of alone, and the quiet, and the knowledge she’d wake in the morning without all the planning, all the details that had kept her so occupied since her grandfather’s death.

But people had lives to get back to, and so—however hard it was to imagine—did she.

She walked through the kitchen—offering thanks to Jan and the crew—grabbed a jacket from the mudroom.

When she rounded the house with Sadie, she found her mother on the back patio, sitting with a glass of wine in the light of a scatter of candles.

And felt instantly guilty, as she’d forgotten about Lina.

“It’s too chilly to sit out here.”

“I wanted the air, and the quiet, but you’re right. I heard the cars. Did your friends leave?”

“Yes.”

“I hope they didn’t feel they couldn’t stay here because of me.”

“No, of course not. It just seemed with everything, staying with Teesha and Monroe made more sense.”

“Harry would have stayed longer if he could. And Mimi.”

“I know. We couldn’t put this off forever. Getting back to … things,” Adrian finished.

“No, we can’t. I know you’re probably tired, but I’d like to talk to you. Inside. You’re right about the cold.”

“All right. I’m going to do one last circuit with Sadie.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“What do you suppose that’s about?” Adrian blew out the candles, began to walk. “I hope she’s not upset because he left me the house, the business. I really don’t want to deal with hard feelings tonight.”

But she finished the circuit, rounded back through the mudroom.

Her mother sat in the breakfast nook. Two glasses of wine, a plate of cheese and fruit.

She looked exhausted, Adrian realized. In the bright kitchen light, the fatigue showed clearly.

“You’ve had a long day, too. We can talk in the morning.”