At that moment, the back door opened, and Pru and Jack came in, bickering. “So what?” Pru said. “Who cares what you think? Just because you’re the boy—”

“You sound like you’re eight years old,” Jack said.

“And you sound like the ass you are. Hey, guys! What’s everyone doing here?”

“I live here,” Honor said. “As does our father.”

Faith waved her hand. “I need to tell you guys something.”

“You pregnant?” Pru asked.

“No,” Faith said, even as Mrs. Johnson clapped her hands together in joy.

The housekeeper’s expression fell back to thunderous. “Is it really out of order?” she said. “Four of you adults now, but only two grandbabies, and they nearly grown at that. It’s not fair. The three of you are wretched children, and Prudence, why did you not have more?”

“She has a point,” Dad said.

“And back to me,” Faith said. Such was the way of family gatherings. She should’ve emailed instead. “This is important.”

“Shoot,” Pru said, rummaging in the cupboard. “Where’s that mug I made in fourth grade?”

“I’m starving, Mrs. J.,” Jack said.

“So eat something, you rude boy,” Mrs. Johnson said, cutting a muffin in half for him. “I see hands attached to the ends of your arms. Am I expected to feed you like a baby bird?” She handed him the plate.

“The day Mom died,” Faith said loudly. That shut everyone up. Pru sat down; Jack froze with the muffin halfway to his mouth. “The day Mom died,” she said in a more normal tone, though her heart began to gallop sickly in her chest, “I didn’t have a seizure.” She swallowed. “I—I just said I did.”

Her siblings exchanged looks. Dad took her hand, which, Faith noted, seemed to be shaking.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he said.

She swallowed. “Well, you know how everyone said Mom never saw what hit us? She...she did. She did try to stop. There were skid marks. But the other car was coming too fast. I told you I had a seizure because I thought the accident was my fault.”

Another silence.

“Why would you think that?” Dad asked.

Faith drew a slow breath. “Mom asked me something, and I didn’t want to answer. Um, I was a little mad at her over something. So she turned around to check on me. I always thought that’s why Kevin Hart hit us, because she was looking at me and not the road. But Levi did an accident reconstruction, and it showed that Mom couldn’t have seen him until we were almost in the intersection, and then it was too late. Even though she tried.”

There was another silence while her siblings, Mrs. J. and Dad exchanged looks.

“Honey,” Dad said, squeezing her hand. “No one ever thought it was your fault. Not ever.”

“But you thought I had a seizure, and Mom was distracted, and that’s why we got hit.”

“It was that stupid kid, Faithie,” Jack said. “A kid in a muscle car, blowing through a stop sign.”

“No one thought it was your fault, Faith,” Honor said slowly. She looked at the others. “Did you guys think that?”

Pru shook her head. “Of course not.”

“I was actually glad you had a seizure,” Dad said slowly. “Because that way you wouldn’t have remembered anything.”

Silence fell around the table.

“Do you, sweetheart?” Mrs. Johnson asked, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Do you remember the accident?”

Faith hesitated, then nodded. “I... Yes. I do.”

“Oh, God, Faith,” Honor whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Her sister’s arms around her was such an alien feeling that for a second, Faith didn’t know what to do.

Then Pru hugged her, too, then Jack, and Dad, and Faith found that she was sobbing.

“I thought you blamed me,” Faith whispered, and Honor seemed to know the words were for her. “You were so mad at me.”

“Oh, honey,” she whispered back. “I was jealous. You were the last one who got to be with Mom. You were with her in the end.”

A little while later, when eyes had been wiped and an extra box of tissues had been brought to the table and Mrs. Johnson was making sweet potato pudding for everyone and crying a little herself (though she wouldn’t admit it), Dad reached out and put his hand on Faith’s shoulder.

“Was that why you stayed in San Francisco?” he asked. “Because you felt responsible?”

Faith took a deep breath. “Maybe a little. I mean, at first, I just wanted to get away from Jeremy. But I remembered something Mom said, about how she always wanted to live somewhere far away. And it just felt...right. Like I was doing what she never got to.”

“That’s really nice, Faith,” Honor said.

“And what now?” Dad asked. “Are you going to stay in New York?”

“You and Levi seem hot and heavy,” Pru observed. Dad and Jack winced in unison.

“I’d like to stay,” Faith said, her eyes filling again. Home had never felt more precious than it did at this moment, here in the kitchen of the New House, where Mom had cooked and laughed, where Mrs. Johnson had worked so hard to take care of them all these years.

“Oh, crap, another sister,” Jack said, sighing, but he messed up her hair.

“I do have to pack up my apartment, both at the Opera House and in San Francisco,” she said, wiping her ever-leaking eyes. “Sharon Wiles found a tenant. So I might have to live here for a little while, once I’m back from California. Please don’t make me move back with Goggy and Pops.”

“Live with me,” Pru said. “Carl’s staying at his mom’s indefinitely. I like having a long-distance marriage. The bathroom is certainly more pleasant. And you know the kids and I would love having you.”

“We’ll figure out the logistics later,” Dad said. “Faith, sweetpea, you look exhausted. Come on, I’m tucking you in.”

Her room was filled with some boxes of both her stuff and Honor’s, but her bed was the same, made up with a lavender comforter and fluffy white pillows. Faith was suddenly dead on her feet.

Dad pulled the covers up to her chin. “Nice to get to take care of my little girl,” he said. He sat on the side of her bed and smiled down at her, and Faith’s heart ached with love. He was so familiar, so unchanging—the faded flannel shirt, the smell of wood smoke and coffee, his grape-stained hands.

“Honey,” he said, “this...matchmaking stuff. Did that have to do with what you just told us?”

Faith nodded. “I guess I thought if I could find you someone, it’d wipe away some of my...guilt.”

Dad shook his head. “I haven’t been paying enough attention,” he said. He was quiet for a few minutes as he stroked her hair. “Now you listen,” he said finally, “and you listen good. I’m always going to miss your mother, even if I get married again, which frankly, I can’t picture. She wasn’t perfect, but she was perfect for me, and if there’s ever going to be anyone else, that’s my responsibility, not yours. When the right person comes along, she will. It’ll be my job to notice. You understand?” She nodded, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.”

Dang. More tears. “You’re the best, Daddy.”

Her father stood up. “Well. You go to sleep, princess.”

“I love you, Dad,” she said.

“I love you, too.” He paused. “Your mom loved you so much, Faith. You were our little surprise. Our gift.”

The words settled around her like a blanket, soft and warm, keeping her company as she fell asleep in her old room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LEVI’S DAY HAD NOT been good.

First, there was Nina, who’d shown up at his apartment at seven o’clock with donuts and coffee from Lorelei’s, which he hadn’t accepted (though it had been hard...the donuts were still warm). She’d followed him to the station. Bopped over to the post office, where she’d rented a post office box, to demonstrate her intention to stay, she’d said. Mel Stoakes had come in to say she’d been in the candy store, did Levi know she was back? Gerard Chartier had entered just as Mel had been leaving to report the same news. “Hey, Levi, that hot chick you were married to...she back in town?”

So rather than having her sit next to his desk and interrogate him in front of Emmaline and Everett, he’d said yes to lunch at Hugo’s, where hopefully Jess would spit in Nina’s food, and reiterated the fact that he had no interest in getting back together with her.

“That’s the anger talking, querido,” she said, licking her lips.

“It’s the brain talking,” he replied wearily.

“Ah, but what does your heart say?”

“Same thing. As do the lungs, liver and kidneys. You know as well as I do that you’re only back here because you’re at loose ends.” And that was another thing. Had she come back on leave, he might’ve believed the sincerity of her words, not that it would’ve changed his mind. As it was now, he was just a stopgap measure. The second Nina was bored, she’d be off again.

Hopefully, she was bored now.

She wasn’t. At the end of his shift, there she was, coming into the station like she owned the place. He hadn’t seen this much of her during their entire marriage. Ignoring Emmie and Ev, she plunked herself on the edge of his desk as he shut down his computer.

“Wanna get a drink, baby?” she asked.

“Nina, I really would like to go spend some time with Faith,” he said bluntly.

“To make me jealous?”

“No. Because she’s...”

“Sweet?” Nina said, pulling a face and batting her eyes.

“Mine.”

The word surprised him, and it made Nina freeze. But only for a second. “Fine,” she said. “Go to the little princess. Bet she doesn’t know what I know.” She reached for his belt, right there in front of Everett and Emmaline, but he snagged her wrist.

“You’d be surprised,” he growled. “Go back to the city, Nina.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. But for now, fly home to your little birdie. Just remember, your g*y best friend had her first.”

There was the Nina he knew. Scratch the surface, and she was meaner than a fisher cat.

He walked across the green, jerked open the door of the Opera House and stomped up the stairs. Heard noises in Faith’s apartment, opened the door.

There were boxes everywhere.

She was packing over by her bookcase, her back to him.

Packing, as in leaving. Moving.

Blue leaped over to him and tried to mount his leg. “Get off, Blue,” he muttered, and the dog slunk away, clearly wounded. “Going somewhere?” he asked Faith.

“Hey!” She was wearing those ridiculous Dalmatian pajamas. “How are you? How’s it going with, um...with Nina?”

“Are you leaving?”

She glanced around. “Oh. Um, I only had this place month-to-month. Sharon Wiles found a permanent tenant. Wasn’t happy about the red wall, either, but she said she’d paint that over. Anyway, yeah, I have to get out.” She seemed nervous, her hands knotted in front of her. “But after San Francisco.”

Coldness filled his chest. She was moving. “San Francisco?”

“Right, right. I guess I didn’t tell you. You’ve been, um, otherwise occupied the past few days. Anyway, I have a job in Oakland, so I’m heading back to San Francisco on Monday. It’s this really nice common area for a condo complex, great view of the bridge, and while I’m there, I’ll—” She broke off, her mood visibly changing. Folded her arms under her chest, tossed her hair back. “Why are you scowling? If anyone has reason to scowl, isn’t it me? Since my boyfriend has basically ignored me since his ex-wife popped into town?”

“You’re going to San Francisco?”

“Yes, and about the ex-wife and potential reconciliation, maybe you could at least talk to me about what you—”

“For how long?”

She threw up her hands. “A few weeks, Levi.”

“How few?”

“Possibly six, hopefully more like four. I’m—”

“Really. And you never mentioned this.”

“It came up kind of fast. Why is the branch back up your ass, Levi?”

“How fast?” he said, ignoring the question.

“Um...I pitched the job in August, but I didn’t hear until about a week ago, and it wasn’t a sure thing until Friday. I would’ve told you—”

“So you make plans to move to San Francisco for a month, maybe more, but you don’t think to talk about this with me.”

She stared at him a beat or two. “I guess it was a little hard to find the time,” she said, her voice cool. “Since you’ve been so busy with Nina and the peace talks.”

“You could’ve made the time. And there are no peace talks,” he growled. “Give me some credit. She left me. That was the end of it.”

“Really nice of you to tell me. Funny, how it’s taken you two days to mention this.”

“You can’t really believe I’d get back with her.”

“I have no idea what to believe, Levi! Because you don’t talk to me!”

“Said the woman who neglected to mention she’s moving back to San Francisco.”