Authors: Zena Wynn
Stunned, he felt his eyes widen as his jaw went slack. Max couldn’t speak. He stared blankly off into space as those unexpected words reverberated around inside his psyche. Had he forgiven Cassidy?
Since learning of Phillip’s death, his focus had been on getting Cassidy back. Discovering Zoe was his had only intensified his resolve. He’d moved forward with his plan of action and hadn’t looked back, knowing the past held nothing but a complex blend of pain and ecstasy.
There was the hot fury with his mother and Nicco that had frozen to a cold resolve to have nothing more to do with his family. His mother and Nicco might have been the main instigators in driving a wedge between him and Cassidy, but the rest were just as culpable. No way his other siblings, even his father, hadn’t known what was going on.
Truth was, there was a lot of blame to go around. If Cassidy hadn’t made that deal with Phillip, his family wouldn’t have been able to tear them apart, and he wouldn’t have left Philly. If he hadn’t left, he would have known about the accident and been there for her and Zoe. If, if, if…
Neither of them could alter the past. Both of them had made mistakes. Dwelling on them served no purpose. Two years ago, he’d given his heart to one Cassidy Brannon. That hadn’t changed. She owned him—heart, body and soul.
Breaking the silence, Max said, “Yes, I forgive her. I love her.”
Turning his attention away from the game, his father-in-law asked, “And your family? Will you forgive them?”
“No.” The answer was immediate, short, and hostile.
His father-in-law sighed, bent forward at the waist, and let his joined hands hang between spread thighs. “Son, right now you’re angry and hurting, and who could blame you? But you’ve got to let it go. If not for their sakes, then for you your own. Holding onto anger and bitterness doesn’t do anyone any good. Were they wrong for what they did? Undoubtedly, but I’m sure they thought they had your best interests at heart. Am I wrong?”
Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t care what their motives were, only about what their actions had cost him.
“I never liked Phillip.”
Those solemn words caught and snagged Max’s attention.
“I was just as against Cassidy marrying him as her mother, although our reasons differed. I saw something in Phillip, a weakness of character I didn’t like. But Cassidy had her heart set on marrying him, so I held my peace.” Mr. Palmer glanced sideways at him, and in his eyes, Max could see a deep regret. “When you see someone you love headed for certain heartbreak, it’s hard to sit still and do nothing to stop it. Love compels you to protect, no matter the cost to yourself. So many times, as Cassidy lay in that hospital bed, fighting for her life, I asked myself if I’d have just stepped in and made my feelings known, would she be lying here? But, if I had interfered, Zoe wouldn’t be here today. I have to believe things happen for a reason. We do the best we can with what we have and trust God for the rest.”
Max snorted. “God hasn’t been a part of my life lately.” Despite his promise to the contrary, he had yet to attend Mass or go to confession. He knew the priest would require him to forgive and he simply wasn’t ready to let it go. Didn’t know if he’d ever be.
Mr. Palmer’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Maybe that needs to change. Cassidy told me your family’s very devout.”
“They are. It’s the reason my mother is so against Cassidy and I being together,” Max acknowledged.
His father-in-law patted him on the shoulder. “A man can lose a lot of things and survive, but don’t ever lose your faith. Faith brings hope. Think about what I said.”
As if Max would be able to do anything but.
The rest of the game passed in relative silence. Mr. Palmer sat on one end of the couch, and Max on the other. As the afternoon passed, Zoe tired of playing and crawled up to lie between them and now dozed contentedly, her small mouth pursed and a small spit bubble barely visible on her lips. From upstairs came the occasional clank and rattle of a pot or pan, and the sound of water running.
Max couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying to Philly. Right now, all the males were gathered in the family room, on the couch, armchairs, and floor, watching the games. There were Antipasto platters in honor of the holiday alongside more common snacks like popcorn, chips and dip, and assorted nuts on the coffee table. The television volume was turned to a level just below earsplitting so the commentators could be heard over the jeering and cheering accompanying each play and referee’s call. They were a boisterous lot.
The women would all be gathered in the kitchen. From time to time one of them would interrupt to have one of the men run some errand or carry out some duty that had to be done right that moment, despite their very vocal protestations of being forced to miss a portion of the game. Adding to the melee would be children of various ages darting about, chortling with glee at whatever game they’d concocted or complaining about the unfairness of some cousins’ actions.
He shifted uncomfortably as his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. Max had lost count of the number of text messages he’d received from various family members. The most innocuous merely questioned his whereabouts and if planned to stop by before the day was over. Harsher texts—from his sisters—harangued him for his childish behavior and ordered him to forget about his stupid male pride being hurt and come home where he belonged. Surely he wouldn’t let some woman come between him and his family?
There’d even been a text from Nicco admitting that he might have been out of line in his actions, but surely Max could see Nicco’d only had Max’s best interest at heart? If he insisted on being with Cassidy after all she’d done—although he couldn’t comprehend why Max was so hung up on this one woman when there were so many others to choose from—Nicco would roll out the welcome mat and made sure the others followed suit. The important thing was Momma. She was hurting, and Thanksgiving just wasn’t the same without Max there.
From his mother he’d heard nothing. It was obvious from the tenor of the texts he’d received that the family didn’t know about Zoe. To the Desalvos, family was all. They simply couldn’t understand him choosing some woman with whom he’d been involved in a temporary fling over them. None of them, with the exception of Nicco, he’d thought, had recognized or given credence to his feelings for Cassidy. In their minds, Cassidy had been some married woman he’d taken up with while he’d gotten over the shock of Amber’s betrayal. Just another bad relationship choice gone awry as they’d all known it would.
His teeth clenched as he remembered all the unsympathetic platitudes they’d spouted upon learning Cassidy had returned to her husband.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. She’s pregnant with his child.”
“Surely you could see she wasn’t right for you.”
“Let me introduce you to my friend. She’s just what you need—a nice, respectable,
single
young lady. And she’s Catholic.”
“Momma never liked her, and she’s a good judge of character. I’m glad she’s out of your life.”
On and on it had gone as his sisters and sisters-in-laws realized he wasn’t getting over Cassidy as quickly as they believed he should. His mother had redoubled her attempts to introduce him to someone more suitable, enlisting the aid of his female relatives. To get away, he’d finally given in to his parent’s persuasions to travel to Italy and visit his relatives there. Ostensibly, the purpose of his trip was to gather more authentic family recipes for their restaurants here in the States, but Max knew his mother hoped he’d find a bride. His mother had been almost desperate to get him out of Philly, and now, Max thought sourly, he knew why.
Not that their schemes absolved Max from the guilt of his actions. At least Cassidy had thought to test the veracity of Nicco’s words and went looking for him. Max hadn’t doubted Nicco for a second. Bottom line was he hadn’t had as much faith in Cassidy as she’d had in him. Thank God for second chances.
This past month he’d spent with Cassidy and Zoe had been the happiest of his life. Yes, beneath the euphoria there was a niggling sense of discontent, a feeling of something being missing, but he was sure it would pass once Cassidy accepted him fully into her life and heart. She loved him but was holding back in an effort to protect herself. He understood and didn’t blame her—not really. Just because he was willing to put his heart and soul on the line didn’t mean she was ready to do so. Cassidy had been through a lot more than he. Max was willing to be patient. She’d eventually come around and realize he wasn’t going anywhere.
Max sensed movement at the top of the staircase and glanced up.
“If you gentlemen will wash up and set the table, we’ll be ready to eat in about ten minutes,” Mrs. Palmer called. She’d come down the first level and stood appraising the basement quarters. Her face maintained that neutral, faintly disapproving expression he was coming to associate with her.
“We’ll be up in a minute,” her husband told her. She turned on her heel and left. To Max he said, “Can you set the recorder so we don’t miss any of the action?”
“Sure.” Using the remote, Max pushed a few buttons and checked to be sure the system was recording. “That should do it.” He stood and bent over to gather Zoe.
She grumbled and batted at him with her small hand. Grinning, he told his father-in-law, “She’s grumpy when she doesn’t completely get her nap out.”
Mr. Palmer eyed Zoe contemplatively. “I’ll let you handle her. As Grampy, I need to stay on her good side.”
Max laughed and gave the sleepy toddler in his arms a slight jostle. “Come on, Princess. Time to eat.”
“No,” she muttered and snuggled closer, burying her face in his neck.
Mr. Palmer arched his eyebrow, a silent inquiry as to Max’s next move.
Shaking his head in continued amusement, he said, “I’ll take her to go potty. Maybe that will wake her. If not, I’ll have to call in reinforcement.”
“You’re good with her,” his father-in-law observed.
Max felt his face flush with pleasure at the compliment. “I have a host of nieces, nephews, and younger cousins I’m extremely close to, but it’s different when it’s your own child.” An unexpected pang of remorse struck him as he thought of the kids wondering where Uncle Max was. He shook it off. “Princess here was a tough nut to crack. She’s only recently started allowing me to hold her and do things for her, and if Cassidy’s in the room, she deserts me for her mother,” he said ruefully over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.
“They all do when they’re that age. Cassidy didn’t make the shift until she was old enough to understand she had me wrapped around her little finger,” he said, a reminiscent smile gracing his older, slightly cragged face.
“I’m looking forward to that day,” Max assured him. He had a soft spot for little girls. His nieces all knew they had Uncle Max wrapped around their tiny fingers. Why should it be any different for his child? His daughter, whose facial features favored her beloved mother but had his blue eyes.
As anticipated, by the time he coaxed Zoe into using the pot and got both of them cleaned up, the toddler’s eyes were bright with alertness. However, she was still sleepy enough to want to be babied, lifting up her hands for Max to carry her. He obliged, grateful for any opportunity to hold her in his arms.
Despite Mrs. Palmer’s words to the contrary, Max arrived in the kitchen with Zoe to find the table in the formal dining room already set and platters and serving bowls of food being carried in.
“Set Zoe in her high chair and take your seat,” Mrs. Palmer said as she strode by, arms loaded with dishes.
“Is there anything I can help with?” he offered.
“We’ve got it. Just sit down,” she instructed curtly.
Cassidy followed behind with a pitcher of iced sweet tea in one hand and a pitcher of iced lemonade in the other. From her furrowed brow, pinched mouth, and the lines of strain around her eyes, Max knew things had not gone smooth between her and her mother. It might explain Mrs. Palmer’s attitude, though Max had yet to see her be anything but disagreeable.
“You okay?” he mouthed to Cassidy.
“Two more days,” she mouthed in return, indicating she was counting down the time until her mother left.
He surreptitiously gave her back a consoling stroke, wishing he could be more of a comfort to her. However, these were her parents, her show, and Cassidy had been very exact in what she did and did not want to happen while they were visiting. Whether Max agreed or not, he’d promise to abide by her wishes. In any event, he’d learned with his family to stay out of disagreements between mothers and their daughters. In the end, neither party appreciated his input.
Max settled Zoe in her chair and strapped her in before pushing her chair closer to the table. Mr. Palmer had already claimed a seat at the head of the table so Max took the chair across from Zoe, figuring Cassidy would want to sit next to their daughter.
Zoe’s wide eyes took in the bounty set before them and she clapped her hands, chanting, “Eat, eat, eat!”
Chuckling, Max gazed at her indulgently. “Oh, so now you’re hungry. Smells delicious, doesn’t it, Zoe?”
“Dee-li-tiom,” she echoed.
“Close enough,” he agreed.
The women brought the last of the food to the table and took their seats—Cassidy next to Zoe and him, and Mrs. Palmer at the end of the table opposite her husband.
“Before Bernard blesses the food, we’ll go around the table and each say one thing for which we’re grateful. Mr. Desalvo, as our guest, you can start us out,” Mrs. Palmer ordered.
“Max,” he corrected automatically, refusing to allow Cassidy’s mother maintain the impersonal barrier she was attempting to build between them. He waited until Cassidy stopped glaring at her mother, and while gazing into her mortified and slightly angry eyes, said, “I’m grateful for second chances.”
Cassidy’s features softened and a tremulous smile appeared.
His mother-in-law’s puzzled expression met his when he gazed her way, obviously waiting for him to embellish. Max remained silent. “Bernard?” Cassidy’s mom finally prompted when she saw Max wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity.