The courtyard was humming with low laughter and clinking glasses. Uncle Sal stood at the grill, flipping lamb skewers like he was auditioning for a Tuscan cooking show. John and Rob were sprawled on lounge chairs, arguing about who’d packed better for the flight home. Hannah, ever the peacemaker, was curled beside John, petending not to hear them.
They were all heading back to Missouri in a few days. Including Lori.
I sat beside Sal, watching the fire dance. “You know,” I said, “now that I’m staying here, you need someone to keep you company back home. A good woman. Someone who knows how to handle your grumpy moods.”
Sal didn’t look up. “I’ve got my dog. And bourbon.”
“You’ve got Lori,” I said, nudging him.
He flinched. Just slightly. “She’s your mom’s best friend.”
“She’s also your
