Her Lakeside Family. Lenora Worth

can take a toll and it shows up in many forms and it comes at the most unexpected times. It can exhaust you completely. You and the children might all experience outbursts, impatience, lack of focus, lack of appetite, lack of sleep.”

      “All of the above,” Santo admitted. “I see the outbursts in my children but I know I lose my patience even more now than I did before.”

      “So you’ve never been a patient man?” Rory asked with a wry smile.

      “Not very good at it, no.” Santo thought back over the last year or so. “It’s been a while since...Althea died. I thought I’d be able to get on with my life by now but I can see how this was building up when she was still alive. My children are still suffering and I don’t know how to help them.”

      “You can help them by learning to be patient. But more importantly, you need to be in the moment with them. I know that might sound cliché, but it works,” Rory replied on a gentle note. “Hold them. Talk to them. Sit with them. Read to them. And when they ask about their mother, let them talk and try to answer their questions.”

      “How can I explain what happened to my wife?” Santo asked, that old dread burning through his stomach. “I can’t tell them the truth. It’s hard enough for me to accept but to explain that she died because she was trying to steal from our family and she became a murderer—trying to explain that to my children is downright impossible.”

      “You don’t need to give them the brutal details,” Rory replied. “Not yet. But Lucia is old enough to hear things at school or even at church and you’ve mentioned she’s already asked some questions. Other children can be cruel. You don’t have to tell her anything but if she comes home upset, let her explain and then work from there. You can tell her that her mommy went through a bad time and made some bad choices and that you’re sad she got into trouble. If your children ask for the truth, you have to keep reminding them that Althea loved them and that it’s not their fault any of this happened.”

      Santo leaned over his desk, a hand going to his forehead. “I don’t want that day to come, Rory. My heart can’t take seeing my children hurting any more than they already are. That’s why I decided to move. She came home crying one day because a friend teased her about not having a mom anymore.”

      “No one’s heart is safe when it comes to their children,” Rory said. “Parents hurt when their children hurt. But you have to be strong for them.”

      “I’m tired,” Santo said. “Too tired.”

      “Have you thought about taking some time off?”

      He let out a sigh and picked up a pen that had the Alvanetti logo on it. “I can’t.”

      Rory didn’t push him. “Well, maybe leave a little early once or twice a week. Surely you have someone here you can trust to run this place in your absence.” Then Rory added an enticing tidbit of a suggestion. “Why don’t you do what you said you’d do and help Davina and her crew with the renovations on the lake house?”

      Santo thought about that. Was he afraid to turn over the reins to anyone else? Probably since his trust meter was broken these days. He’d certainly become more controlling since his wife’s betrayal and death. “I did tell her I’d put in some sweat equity,” he said. “But I’d probably get in the way.”

      “Davina’s good at showing home owners how to become handymen,” Rory said. “She was gentle with Vanessa and me when we renovated Vanessa’s house. A word of warning, however. Davina believes in authenticity. The house is a Craftsman style and she made sure we both honored that.”

      Santo grinned and bobbed his head. “Yes, over the last couple of weeks, I’ve heard all about my mid-century modern and how I should have been true to that style while updating as needed. The woman is a tough taskmaster but she delivers her lectures with such a pretty smile, I hardly know I’m being fussed at.”

      “Oh, it’s like that?” Rory asked with his own grin.

      Santo held up his hand. “Oh, no. It’s not like that. We’re existing in the same space at times. I see her when I get home each night and early each morning before I leave for work. Sometimes we talk on the phone, too. She’s good at keeping me updated on how she’s spending my money.”

      Maybe it was like that, he realized since he’d begun to enjoy those quick visits and her detailed updates. In fact, they had a meeting scheduled tonight at her apartment for a change.

      “I’ll think about what you’ve suggested,” he told Rory. “I’m still trying to make amends for getting her confused with the nanny. Won’t make that mistake again.”

      Two very different women and both of them trying to help him. He wondered what they’d thought, what they’d talked about once he’d left the house that first day. Still surprised at how attractive Davina Connell had turned out to be, he had to smile.

      Rory picked up on that. “Well, you’re looking more rested and it’s good to see you smiling. I know Davina is not what you expected, but that could be a good thing.”

      Santo didn’t comment. He wasn’t ready to delve into his mixed feelings regarding his pretty contractor.

      After Rory said a prayer with him and left to go back to town, Santo sat and stared out at the river beyond the docks, wondering how he’d ever get over the horror of what had happened in his family.

      The tall pines and old twisted oaks swayed in the spring breeze and the brownish-green water, filled with tannins and covered with a brackish sheen, moved in a steady flow to meet up with the bay. Everything moved, except him.

      Once they were over the initial shock of Althea and Victor’s betrayal and the scandal had died down, his parents had become even closer and surprisingly, more faithful to God. Rikki and Blain had gotten married just a few months after they’d confronted Althea in a cold, dank warehouse not far from here but they still had bad days, too. His brother, Victor, was sitting in prison, waiting for his sentence to be up so he could get back to gallivanting and spending more of the family funds. But Victor kept telling Santo he’d changed. He wanted to help out now.

      Santo couldn’t trust his brother on that yet. Victor would have to prove that he’d truly become a new man.

      But Santo was here, unable to move. Paralyzed by a grief that he found both revolting and necessary. He grieved a woman he’d stopped loving long before she’d died and the guilt of that admission floored him and held him captive. His children deserved better and he needed to give everything he had to them. Not every material thing, but everything of himself.

      How did he reconcile all the anger and bitterness inside his soul and go on with life even while he tried to raise his children shielded from the awful truth?

      Santo sat there in the quiet of his office listening to the hum and flow coming from the warehouse. Shipments moved, employees went about their business and things got done.

      He prayed for God to show him a way to make it all work together. A way to show his children that he loved them and would always protect them.

      Preacher Rory had suggested he needed to be patient and he also needed to spend more time with his children. Thinking about Davina Connell and their meeting tonight, Santo decided it might time for him to make some changes, too.

       Chapter Four

      Davina eyed the I-Need-Chocolate-STAT cupcake she’d picked up at Marla’s Marvelous Desserts and thought about how she was going to eat it while watching a movie she’d recorded two nights ago. One of the many nights she’d spent alone since she’d arrived here, which was perfectly fine with her. She loved to sketch ideas and jot down notes during her quiet time. She also loved to eat decadent chocolate desserts for dinner.

      But her cell buzzed before she could make it across the space from the tiny den to the rectangular galley-style kitchen, where her prized