Dina hugged her friend, Christiana, who met her in the nave of the church with open arms. A plain casket rested in the center of the nave. They conversed in Italian for a few minutes.

When Dina waved her over, Joy brought a box of flowers and set it onto a wooden pew. As she removed the various flowers inside, she inhaled each bouquet. Older Italian women assisted, speaking Italian. Joy simply smiled and nodded.

“Grazie,” she said to each one, making them giggle and whisper to one another as they walked away.

Soon the casket was surrounded with fresh flowers that brightened the space. Dina sat next to Christiana, holding her hand.

Joy stepped in front of her and bowed her head. Clearing her throat, she said, “I hope these flowers are helping you heal today.”

Dina translated, and Christiana stood, reaching out for Joy’s shoulders. She embraced her and thanked her in Italian.

“My deepest condolences.” Joy sniffled and made her way to an empty pew.

“So good to see you again,” a familiar voice said.

Looking up, Joy’s eyes met Angelina’s.

“Oh, hello.” She mustered a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

But the woman placed her hand on the back of the pew and stared down her long, slim nose at Joy with pursed lips. “Uh-huh.”

“Angelina. Cosa stai facendo qui? What are you doing here?” Dina frowned as she approached with arms crossed.

She touched her chest. “I’m a friend of the family’s. You know that.”

Dina rolled her eyes and muttered something in Italian. Angelina blew air between her lips and walked over to speak with Christiana.

“Friend of the family. Ha.” Dina motioned for Joy to scoot over. She sat down with a huff. “She’s no friend of the family.” She waved her fleshy arms in the air to make her point.

“Then why is she here?” Joy watched Angelina kiss the cheeks of all the family and friends.

Dina nodded toward Alessandro, who stood with cap in hand, chatting with friends of the deceased man.

“Ah.” Joy curled her lip and nodded. “Got it.”

“She’s trouble. He needs to stay away from her.” Dina shook her head.

“Really?” Joy leaned in to listen.

“Anna was my dearest friend. She, Christiana, and I would have tea every afternoon. Alessandro and Vito were like brothers. When Anna died, we worried about him. But he put everything into the family farm and his children.” Dina smiled proudly. “He’s a wonderful father.”

Joy turned and watched him interact with friends. She thought of what Tony had done to Jaime and frowned. “That’s wonderful that Alex is a good father. It’s so important for children to have a loving father figure in their lives.”

“So now Angelina has her eyes on him like he is some sort of prize to be won.” Dina squinted and stared daggers into Angelina. “Ha.”

Another ha. Joy grinned, trying not to chuckle. She’s really mad.

“I see right through her.” Dina gripped the back of the pew in front of her. “I know what’s she’s after.”

“You do?” Joy wondered.

Leaning over to Joy, Dina covered her mouth. “She wants his name and money,” she whispered.

“I understand . . . I think.”

“The De Santis name carries a lot of weight in Italy.” Dina raised a finger.

“Really?”

She nodded. “A proud name. The De Santis farm is very successful, thanks to Alessandro’s children. They have helped the family.” Dina sighed heavily. “But now Angelina wants in.”

Joy’s eyes widened. “But isn’t she already rich and famous?”

“Well, I have something to say about that. But—” Dina stood and scooted out of the pew. “The priest is here to start the ceremony. I’d better sit by my friend.” She patted Joy’s knee. “Grazie per l’aiuto. You do good work.”

“Prego.” Joy looked into Dina’s kind eyes.

Gently touching Joy’s chin, Dina’s eyes smiled at her. “You—you would be good for Alessandro.” She turned on her heel and made her way over to the family of mourners.

“Amici e famiglia, siamo qui riuniti oggi . . .” The priest started the ceremony.

Surrounded by her adult children, the widow sat weeping and dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Even in a plain black dress with her dark hair pulled back, Christiana was lovely. Joy suspected they were the same age.

Her two daughters and three sons helped Christiana walk to the casket to say farewell to her husband. The children each spoke to their father with hands gently rested on the closed casket.

Watching the scene moved Joy’s heart. She glanced through the window above, framing the blue sky. A wave of envy flowed through her. What if Tony had remained faithful? What if he had been a good father? What if we had stayed married? Staring at her empty hands on her lap, her eyes flooded with tears. What if we were in Italy together as a happy couple? What if my father had lived?

Too many what-ifs.

She blinked the thought out of her head. Focusing on what she didn’t have would drive her crazy—she knew that.

Instead she listened to the many friends stand up and talk about their friend Marcello. Even though she couldn’t understand what they said, their eyes and voices revealed the love they had for him and Christiana.

I wonder what friends will say at my funeral? I hope they say that I loved Jaime, adventure . . . romance . . . love.

Slipping out of the pew as quietly as she could, Joy made her way to the garden outside. A sea breeze softly kissed her arms. I love it here. Thank you, Lord, for this respite. She thought more about what Tony did to her, and anger rose within her. We could have been here together. We could have had a wonderful life together. Her hands formed fists. Retirement . . .grandchildren . . . everything. No. I won’t be like that. I don’t want my friends to say I was bitter and jealous. I don’t want to be that way. Lord, help me not to be that way.

A gray dove flew past, startling her. Joy smiled, sensing it was meant to jar her out of her desperate thoughts and stay in the present. Thanks, Lord. She exhaled. It’s up to me how I am remembered, isn’t it?

CHAPTER 5

Soon Joy wasn’t alone in the garden on Islo di San Michele. One by one, guests from the funeral emerged from the church and mingled among the cypress trees swaying in the breeze. The sound the trees made resembled ocean waves.

“I’m glad you were able to assist,” a young woman said.

A lovely young woman with short brown hair smiled at her. “It was a pleasure.” Joy reached out and touched her arm. “Was it your father who passed?”