Page 16 of Ribbons and Roses
“You think the car stopped working?” Stitches asks.
“Who knows? But it seems like they must be on foot…”
We venture deeper into the wooded area with our eyes peeled for any sight of them. Stitches turns on the flashlight on his phone after mentioning yet again how quickly it’s growing dark. The sky has morphed from a light gray to a darker, angrier shade that only makes the snowfall look brighter in contrast.
Stepping between two thick trees, I check if I can at least spot some footprints in the snow. I sense the sudden movement before seeing or hearing it—a man lunges from behind one of the trees and swipes at me with a pocket knife.
I’m quicker than he is.
I leap back and square up as if about to knock him on his ass with a takedown maneuver.
The only reason I don’t is because I recognize him.
Delphine’s brother Marcel is clumsy launching his attack. When I prove to be a step ahead by jumping out of the way, he stumbles forward and almost drops the pocket knife in his hand.
He realizes who I am as I raise my brows at him in question.
“Oh,” he says, his tone flat. “My bad. I thought you were someone else.”
“Do you always lunge at strangers in the woods?”
“When I’m lost on my way up to an alleged cabin in the woods I do. Dad! Over here!” he shouts into the near distance. “It looks like Mancino and his sidekick have turned up.”
Tension tightens my jaw. I glare at him as eventually Ernest Adams appears at his side. The father and son bear a striking resemblance, except Marcel has turned out an inch taller.
While Marcel is cold and hostile at best, Ernest grins at the sight of Stitches and me. He steps forward to shake our hands and moves into a quick one-armed hug.
“Excellent, you’ve found us!” he says. “I never thought we’d make it. Marcel hasn’t had any luck with the GPS. He suggested we get out on foot and see if we have better luck.”
“Yeah, I bet he did.” I still haven’t stopped eyeing Marcel.
“Hey, how you doing?” Stitches asks Delphine’s older brother. He moves in for a handshake. “I’m Francis but everybody calls me Stitches. I’ll tell you the origin story sometime.”
Marcel ignores his extended hand and turns toward the direction where the cars are parked. “How about we actually get going?”
I stand back with the other two watching as Marcel takes off ahead of us. Ernest sighs from my side.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “He’s been agitated all day. It could be jetlag from his overseas travel.”
But as we eventually set off behind him, I’m not so sure. My read on Delphine’s brother tells me there’s something else that’s driving his behavior and that what we’ve been told might not necessarily be the truth.
6
delphine
Salvatore’sstill sound asleep when I wake up the next morning. I lay in bed for a while and express silent gratitude that everything has turned out alright.
We’re all under one roof in one piece, celebrating the holiday together. What more can I ask for?
I roll over onto my other side and take in a sleeping Salvatore. He’s not the kind of person who gets much sleep, usually only five or six hours at most, but he’s been knocked out since last night. Probably exhausted after going to find Dad and Marcel.
I slide my arm over his stomach and snuggle closer, unable to resist touching him in some way. My husband worries that he’s not giving the kids and I what we need, but little does he know he’s exactly what we need. He gives us every part of himself, even when he’s struggling with his inner demons.
Hopefully, this Christmas getaway will show him the holiday can be full of new, brighter memories. We can enjoy the holiday as a family.
Salvatore senses my touch, cracking one eye open to peer at me. I smirk at him and then squeeze him in a side hug, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder. He chuckles and embraces me in return, his arm sliding up to rest on my hip.
“Morning,” he rasps. “Were you watching me sleep?”