The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

“Where is it from?” August asked, dubious.

“My kitchen,” she said, giving him a hard look.

“What is it? Soy eggs and seed-filled toast?” August grumbled, getting a hard slap on the back of the neck from Nino.

“Fine. Don’t eat anything,” Traveler said, shrugging. “More for everyone else. Hey girl!” she said, giving me a warm smile. “That hair is perfect. I can help you shape up the back a little bit. It’s hard to get it perfectly straight without help. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I told her, because there was too much to get into.

“No, you’re not. But you will be,” she said, and she was so matter-of-fact about it that I immediately believed her as I walked over toward the dining room where she was pulling things out of the bags.

Traveler’s green habits meant everything was in glass containers wrapped in silicone sleeves so they didn’t knock together.

And she went ahead and put out plates in front of everyone except August, whose head was angled up like it wasn’t bothering him even though he’d just been bitching about being starving before she showed up.

“We’ve got French toast, eggs. Real eggs. Pasture raised from a local farm where they are treated like gold,” she explained, shooting August a look. “Also, breakfast potatoes, blueberry muffins, and toast. Yes, there are seeds in it. Because seeds are good for you. Oh, and this jam is from my backyard raspberries,” she said, producing a glass container. “Dig in,” she demanded as she started to distribute the coffees.

“You made all of this this morning?” I asked. “Did you even sleep?”

“Oh, I don’t sleep,” Traveler said, moving around, handing Nicky a coffee. “I just went with regular cream and milk for you since I don’t know what you like. And I mean… I sleep. Just not much. And it’s not easy for me. So I cook. Or make. Or fiddle with my garden.”

“Fuck, woman, this is the best French toast I’ve ever had,” Nino declared. “But if you ever tell my mother I said that, I’ll deny it,” he added.

I didn’t miss the longing look August sent the food at that.

“Your secret is safe with me. You can have some. If you apologize for being a dickhead,” Traveler said, looking at August. “And you have to start with this,” she said, grabbing a piece of toast and spreading some of the jam on it. “Come on. It’s not too hard. Five words. You can do it,” she said, moving toward him. “I’m sorry I’m a dickhead.”

At that, August’s chin angled up as he stared up at Traveler. “I’m sorry I’m a dickhead,” he said.

“Christ. Did you feel that?” Nino asked, rubbing his arms. “Think hell just froze the fuck over.”

“Good boy,” Traveler said, smirking as she lowered the bread toward August’s mouth.

“Is it just me or does this feel like public foreplay?” Nicky mumbled close to my ear as August’s lips parted and she put the bread in.

“They have a complicated relationship since meeting a couple weeks ago,” I explained. “And by complicated I mean he’s been an asshole and she refuses to put up with it.”

“It’s kind of a shame it ends here,” I added, half to myself as Traveler moved away and August kept filling up his plate, his gaze on her as she walked around the table, talking to everyone.

And when he took his first bite, his eyes went huge. As if sending it, Traveler turned her head and shot him a knowing smile.

“Eh, you never know. Life is weird,” Nicky said.

My gaze flicked around the table, taking in the group of handsome mafia brothers and the coffee shop owner who had become a hero in the story.

Yeah, I had to agree.

Life was weird.

And scary and unpredictable.

But that was what made it so great.

“I’m going back to Navesink Bank with Massimo,” I told Nicky.

“Yeah, I figured,” he agreed. “Sounds like a nice place to live. Think I might enjoy being by the beach.”

“So you’ll come with me?” I asked, voice a strange squeaking sound.

“Of course I’ll come with you. We’re family,” he added, shrugging. “So, did you really fall for the guy who killed your old boyfriend?” he asked, letting out a snorting laugh.

“You know what, yes, yes I did.”