Yesterday's Stardust (18 page)

Nicky sharpened a knife and laid it on the table. “My dad cheated on her. A million times, according to the arguments I heard. One day—I was eleven and Rena was just a baby—my dad came home after being gone for three straight days. My mother handed Rena to him and waved a plane ticket in his face. She never came home.”

Dani slid her hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t breathe until she pulled her hand away. He rolled his cinnamon-covered dough into a cylinder and cut it into one-inch slices then handed the knife to Dani.

“So that left you in the role of parent.”

“Yeah. There’s a lady who stepped in to help. That was huge, but Rena’s not a little girl anymore.” He looked toward the back door. “I see how she’s messing up, and I get mad. So I yell and she shuts down, and we never get anywhere.”

“She’s at a scary age. One wrong choice can alter the course of her life. But you can’t make decisions for someone else. I know. That’s what I tried with China. Maybe someday I’ll learn I can’t keep taking on other people’s problems as my personal project.”

“No, you can’t, but living with regret is worse than saying too much.”

Her tired eyes took on new focus. “I get the feeling you’ve experienced regret.”

“Haven’t we all?” For a moment, he considered saying more. But he couldn’t lose sight of the fact that she was a reporter. He stood. “You need to get back to bed.”

“Only God can fix broken people, you know.”

“Convince Rena to let Him, and I’ll be forever in your debt.”

She stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

He shook it and held it. “Just name your price.”

“I think I already have.”

“What’s that?”

“Lunch. Today.”

“Look at this.” Rena slid her phone across the counter.

Dani wiped cinnamon roll frosting on her napkin and read the text. WDYT ABT LN? C
HI
C
RAZY
. C
HICK
OK? SC. CM.

“Um…” Dani bit the corner of her lip. “It would be a lot faster if you translated rather than me guessing. I text, but I’m an English major. My friends know I’ll go nuts on them if they do that to me.”

“You gotta learn this stuff if you’re going to be writing about us.” She ran her finger across the screen. “This is from one of the Sisters.”

“Sisters?”

“I’ll explain that later. One of the girls who was at the beach last night. It says, ‘What did you think about last night? Chi’s crazy. Chick’—that’s you—‘okay? Stay cool. Call me.’”

“You got all that out of that?”

“Yup. You’ll learn. I’ll teach you.” Rena set the phone down. “Last night didn’t scare you off, did it? It was a freaky night. I keep thinking what woulda happened if Rabia hadn’t charged at Chi like that. She’d be…” Rena shivered. “Anyway, do you still want to do this?”

Dani sucked frosting off the side of her hand. “I’m scared, but not ready to quit. If you think we can still pull this off.”

Seven silver earrings, four in one ear, three in the other, jiggled. “I think what happened last night gave you a little street cred, girl.”

“Even though I wasn’t smart enough to duck?”

“You wait. You’re already turning into kind of a hero.” Rena picked up her phone and typed a message so fast her fingers blurred. She held it up.” ICBW,
BUT
IMHO, UR I
N
.

Dani dug her fingers into her hair and faked a scream.

“I could be wrong, but in my humble opinion, you are in.”

“I hope you’re right.” She fingered the bottom edge of her bandage and stared over Rena’s shoulder, picturing the man who slept upstairs. The man who was, now and forever, in her debt. Lines were blurring, and she couldn’t blame it on the pain medication. Lines between her job and her heart, the law and her passion.

She forced her foggy thoughts back to the moment. “At least I think I hope you’re right.” She slid her hand in the back pocket of the distressed and now blood-specked jeans she’d borrowed from Rena, and pulled out a digital recorder. “We only have a few minutes.”

Rena’s spine seemed to stiffen. Her hand rose to her mouth, and she bit down on what was left of the fingernail on her pinky finger.

“You’re not going to use my name, are you?”

“No.”

“And no one in my family will hear this?”

“No.”

She got up and closed the door to the stairway, sat back down, and nodded.

Dani turned on the recorder. “Renata Fiorini, do I have your permission to record you?”

Rena swallowed audibly. “Yes.”

“What do you see as the biggest problem facing—” Dani’s phone dinged. She pointed the screen at Rena and shut off the recorder. “See? This is how old people text.”

Evan’s message—I
’M OUT FRONT. ARE
you R
EADY?
—forced her to gulp the last bit of coffee.

“So what’s with you and Razzi? You said you weren’t going out with anyone.”

Dani laughed. Evan would be thrilled she’d used the nickname even though, after hours in the waiting room, she knew his real one. “We’re just friends. We met at church, and I got him a job at the paper. He’s an amazing photographer. Always my first choice.”

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-two. He’s kind of like the little brother I never had.” “Is he single?” “Yes. He is.”

Rena nodded. A slow, contemplative nod. “He’s cute. And funny.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“No names, remember?” Dani slid off the stool and picked up the recorder. “I’ll just tell him one of the girls from the bonfire has a crush on him.”

“I do not. I’m with Jarod.” No love-light lit her eyes. “So what are you guys doing today?”

“He’s just giving me a ride home. I have a…lunch meeting at noon.” She walked around the table and gave Rena a quick hug. “We’ll talk.”

“No.” Rena grabbed the napkin and marker and scrawled T
₂
UL.

Dani laughed, took the pen, and wrote a series of letters. TRKOTULU

“I don’t get it.”

Dani turned around when she reached the door. “Think about it. You will.” She walked along the side of the building to the H1 parked in front.

Sliding into the passenger seat, she grinned at Evan. “I’ve always wanted a private chauffeur.”

“Hope you realize you’re buying me lunch for this.” Dani swallowed hard.

Evan pointed to a poster on the front door. “Let’s come back here. They have a buffet on weekends.”

“I really need some time to relax.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d relax. At the park. With Nicky. “How ‘bout a rain check?”

“Tomorrow then. After church.”

“That sounds”—her mouth felt lined with beach sand—“fun.”

D
ani waved a honeybee away and pulled a sweet-and-sour chicken wing out of the box. Her fourth one. She rested her elbows on the picnic table. “This wasn’t what I expected.”

Nicky dipped a celery stick in bleu cheese dressing. “Do you eat potatoes for every meal?”

“That’s a weird question.”

“Gallagher. That’s Irish, right?”

She laughed. “So there’s more to you than pasta and pizza. I get it.” She looked out across an expanse of green grass bordered by a split rail fence. In the opposite direction, birthday balloons swayed in the breeze under the roof of a field stone shelter. Two young girls pushed toddlers on swings. “Do you come here often?”

“A few times a year. When the weather’s decent, I pack rollerblades and try out different parks. Pet Springs might be my favorite. I can’t do vacations, so I need mini getaways during the week.”

“I should do that. Kind of resets your brain.” She glanced at him. “There must be some way you can do vacations once in a while. Your father’s around some of the time, isn’t he? Do you own the restaurant or does he? Can’t you—sorry. Questions are my life.”

“You’re good at it.” He shifted so he faced her without turning his head. “You’d think it would work that way. My grandfather owns the business. He’s in a nursing home. My dad doesn’t have the heart to have him declared mentally incompetent. My dad’s a chef, not a businessman.”

“So a lot of the responsibility falls to you.”

Nicky nodded. “We have good employees, but my dad and I are the managers and he’s AWOL half the time. If I left I just might come home to no business at all.”

“Does he drink?”

“No. He…carouses. It’s embarrassing. When I got old enough to know what was going on, in my early teens maybe, he reminded me of some of the kids at school. Living for the moment, you know? I always thought my dad would grow up when I did. He didn’t.”

“Have you ever thought about striking out on your own?”

A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth then disappeared. “Millions of times. But I couldn’t stand watching ninety years of family history fade away.”

“Why don’t you buy it from your grandfather? If your dad isn’t interested—”

“It’s not that simple. My dad has a brother. They aren’t talking to each other, but someday my dad and Uncle Sal will inherit the place together.” He tossed a chicken bone onto his plate and wiped his hands on a napkin. “So what did you find across the street? What’s this secret meeting all about?”

“It’s not secret.”

“You just didn’t want anyone else to know about it. Or was it just the guy you were with at the funeral who shouldn’t know about us.
This.”

“The guy is just a friend, and I don’t want too many people hearing about
this”
—she tapped her bag with the toe of her shoe— “until we know more.”

“The ‘this’ is in there?” Nicky nodded at her bag.

“Yes. Can’t take it out till I wash my hands.”

“They teach you that in school? To give your reader just a nibble so they want more.”

“It’s called a hook.”

“It works.” He held her gaze. “I’m hooked.” Dani stopped breathing. He pointed at her bandaged arm. “How’s that feel?”

Delicious.
“The arm? Sore.”

“You gonna stop pretending you’re a teenager?”

No.
“Guess I’ll just have to brush up on my street smarts before I do it again.” She tore open a towelette pack as she watched his mouth set into a rigid line.
When’s the last time you laughed?
She picked up her cup of root beer. Two bees crawled around the inside edge. She dumped the rest of her soda into the grass and tossed their plates into a trashcan. She handed the diary to Nicky. “I found this behind the house across from the restaurant. It was in a basket with China’s school notebooks. I thought it was hers, but it’s not.”

Nicky opened the front cover. “1924. Osseo. That’s up by Eau Claire, isn’t it?”

Dani nodded.

“It looks interesting, but what’s this have to do with me?”

She sat beside him and turned to the page in the middle of the book she’d marked with a sticky note. She pointed to the entry at the bottom of the page dated June 24, 1928. Nicky’s eyes widened. His lips moved with the words.
Busy but fun night at Bracciano again.
He turned the page then several more. His finger landed on an entry dated July 30, 1928. “Did you see this?”

Dani’s arm pressed against his as she leaned over the book.

“Renata. That’s my great-grandmother.” His tone held a reverence that seemed completely out of character for Nicky Fiorini. “Look at this. ‘Renata helped me find a way to hide the things T left. They are safe. I don’t think I will ever see him again, but I’m afraid to believe we are finally free.’” He looked up, eyes dancing with questions. “What does that mean?”

Dani shook her head. “I’m still in 1924, and I hate reading the end of a book first, but I had to show it to you. I thought maybe we should…” The heat from Nicky’s arm spread through her veins, melting her thoughts.

“Start from the beginning? Together?”

She nodded.

His eyes locked on hers. “I think you’re right.”

“Is she blind?”

Nicky rested his chin in his hands and stared at Dani next to him on the picnic table bench.

“She’s fifteen. She’s never been in love before.”

“I thought girls were born with antenna to pick up those signals. Guys are supposed to be the obtuse ones.” He shifted the church bulletin Dani had laid on the page to keep their eyes from wandering away from 1924. He ran his finger along a line of rounded, girlish script. “‘Theo can have dreams of moving to India, but I’m just a girl. I shouldn’t trouble my empty little head over a silly notion like a career. I should only worry about embroidering luncheon cloths for my hope chest. Theo doesn’t say such things, of course, but I know he thinks them. Men!’”