Her Lakeside Family

“You’ve been through something horrific and traumatic,” she said. “I don’t expect you to share all the details with me.”

Whirling, he dropped his arms to his sides. “But you’ve heard the details. It made the national news. The whole world knows what happened to my family, to my children. To my wife and me. No wonder my parents decided to leave the country.”

Then Davina saw it in his eyes. The shame, the despair, the regret, the guilt. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m the one who’s still here. I’m the one who has to protect my children and show them that we have to get on with our lives.”

“And you’re doing that,” she said, moving closer to him. “This house will be sunny and bright and full of joy. I’ll see to that. But Santo, you’ll have to do your part, too.”

He gave her a twisted smirk. “And how do I do that? I’ve been dealing with this for over a year now. The first few months, I was too numb to feel anything. But my children needed me so I had to find a way to keep moving. So what part do I play now? What can I do to make this right again? How can I do anything more?”

“By forgiving your wife,” she replied. “And yourself.”

“Stop it, please,” he replied on a quiet tone. “I didn’t hire you to be my spiritual counselor. Your work is good, Davina. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Okay. I’m sorry I overstepped,” she said, her heart breaking for this man. “I’ve never been through anything like what you’ve had to deal with. I came from a loving, happy, chaotic family but we didn’t have a lot of money. So I’m driven to prove myself and sometimes in my zest to make a house perfect, I ask too many personal questions. It won’t happen again.”

Lifting his head, he almost spoke but stopped himself. After a brief silence that told her exactly how he felt, he said, “I’ll check in with you again soon.”

“Okay. Thank you for the dinner.” She glanced at the cupcake they’d never shared, her stomach roiling in protest, her nerves tangled tighter than electrical cords. “I’ll make sure you get the official reports on both houses.”

“I appreciate that,” he said.

And then he turned and walked out the door.

Davina watched him get into his car and zoom away.

And then she sank down on the couch and started praying.

Dear Lord, help this man to heal. Watch over him and his precious children. And please guide me in renovating this home for them.

Because she knew in her heart that it would take a lot more than hammers and nails to mend this broken family.

Chapter Six (#u31c29930-f7ee-52a7-a161-b38f4bd0531b)

Davina couldn’t get the conversation she’d had with Santo last night out of her mind. Not that she hadn’t stayed busy. She’d finished up the last details on the bay house today and planned to spend most of the afternoon over at the fixer-upper lake house. Since Santo had told her to do what she needed to get the place in order, she had the go-ahead, such as it was. But she’d really hoped he’d change his mind and decide to get more involved in this project. He needed to see the skeleton of the house, test its bones, learn its structure and explore every nook and cranny because that was exactly what his children would do.

How could anyone not want to do that with a house?

Maybe Santo wasn’t wired like her. Tilly and Alana teased her about loving houses more than she loved wanting a home of her own.

Her sisters had a point. Houses were easy to love, easy to shape and mold and change. People, not so much. Davina wasn’t good at building relationships, probably because she’d always been right smack in the middle of her family’s sometimes tempestuous relationships with each other. But no matter now. Santo had made it clear he wasn’t good at that either. Or so he thought.

Since Davina didn’t want that lovely old home to become cold and rigid like the bay house, she’d keep her mind centered on making it spectacular again. Glad she was finished here, she did like how the modern beauty was coming along nicely. But working around the children had been a challenge.

Thinking about Santo’s beautiful children made her smile in spite of the intensity of their words last night. She’d miss these kids once she was done completely. She’d miss this community, too.

“I think I’ll be a carpenter like you when I grow up,” nine-year-old Lucia announced this morning when Davina walked through the door. “It’s a lot of fun. I like hammering things the way you do. And you’re always laughing and smiling.”

The dark-haired beauty with eyes so like her father’s hadn’t witnessed Davina screaming at plumbers or discussing with the tile man why the counters didn’t fit. That was because when the children were around, Davina tried to make the whole reconstruction fun and interesting as long as they stayed clear of any danger. She’d even found each of them bright yellow hard hats to wear. Which earned her points with the kids and Mrs. Brownlee and brought a scowl from their dad.

She wouldn’t tell him she’d also let them hammer some nails into old boards, with both Mrs. Brownlee and herself supervising. Her parents had been protective but also lenient when letting their children explore and learn things. She hoped if she ever had any children, she’d be the same. But watching Santo’s children run around this treacherously beautiful house had brought out all of the maternal instincts she didn’t even know she had.

“This is a fun job,” she told Lucia now with a big grin. “You would be very good at it since you’ve had practice bossing your brother and sister around. And taking care of them,” she added, because Lucia did help with her younger siblings.

“I have to be the boss,” Lucia replied with a stern expression, her eyes growing even bigger. “I’m the oldest and we don’t have a mom anymore.” Then she’d lowered her voice. “She went to heaven.”

Davina squatted and took Lucia’s hand, wishing she hadn’t teased so much. “I know and I’m so sorry about that. You’re a great big sister. And your daddy is so proud of you.”

“He acts mad all the time.”

Davina could vouch for that. Her heart tumbled over itself, seeing the serious concern in Lucia’s eyes. What must this child think about the horrible thing that had happened in her life?

Putting on her best reassuring face, Davina shook her head. “No, no, he’s just got so much to take care of. He works hard so he can provide for all of you. He loves you.”

“He tells us that,” Lucia said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Sometimes I wish he’d just stay home with us. Saturday is supposed to be fun day and this Saturday, there’s a festival on the lake but he won’t remember. Mommy used to say that Daddy only remembered work and nothing else. But I don’t think he forgets on purpose. I wish he’d go with us, though.”

Before Davina could respond to the little anxious girl, her sister, Adriana, ran by and screamed, “Nate’s hiding. And he’s not wearing his hard hat.”

After that, a game of cat and mouse had ensued and soon, Davina and Mrs. Brownlee were both highly involved. They’d found the little boy in the corner of the master bedroom, hiding behind a big rocking chair that Davina had just placed by the locked doors out onto a cedar terrace.

“I like this chair,” Nate said, a finger to his mouth. “Can you rock me?”

Davina looked at Mrs. Brownlee and nodded. “I certainly can.” So while Virginia took the girls to the kitchen for a snack, Davina rocked Nate to sleep, her mind going back and forth with the cadence of the heavy wood hitting the plush carpet.

A girl could get used to that kind of cadence.

The little boy had lifted his head and smiled at her. “Da-danina.”

“Davina,” she’d said, grinning down at him.

Nate shook his head. “Danina.” Then he snuggled closer, burrowing into her arms. And into her heart.

As he drifted off, Davina had whispered close, “Dani. I’m Dani.”

A soft giggle had erupted against her heartbeat.

The sweetness of that moment had stayed with her all day. Now she was finished. The crew would come back and clean things up and do a run-through and then, she’d do a final walk-through with Santo and see if they’d missed anything. Not that he would notice or care.

She’d purposely been late this morning. Yes, she was avoiding him. It was for the best. The man was in a world of hurt and she’d pushed him too far, too soon, last night.

“Mind your own business,” her mother always told her children. They never did, of course. Nor did Ma. Ma was a caring, loving soul who could spot a hurting heart from a mile away, human or animal. She’d be over the moon with these three Alvanetti children and she’d immediately insist they needed a big dog to follow them around.

“Are you really all done?” Mrs. Brownlee asked through a sigh, her hands held together over the apron that stated Free Hugs with Each Cookie.

“I am,” Davina said. “And in record time. This job would normally take at least a month but when you have an unlimited budget, you can get things done pretty quickly. Three weeks for a general overhaul is my personal best now.”

“Yes, you did seem to hurry this into overdrive,” her new friend pointed out, sparkly red earrings warring with her auburn curls. “I take it you and Santo don’t always see eye to eye.”