Page 109 of Every Step She Takes

“But he doesn’t, and heispart of your life.”

She makes a face. “A fifty-four-year-old toddler.”

“Who needs to grow up,” I say softly.

She nods. “I’ll still be there for him, but I’m not taking Mom’s place. I won’t be his crutch or his caregiver. Neither will Jamie. I’ll make sure of that. If anyone needs that care, it’s my brother, and he’s the one who’s going to get it.”

I keep my voice as neutral as possible. “Does he need it?”

She looks up.

“Jamie seems to be doing pretty well,” I say. “At the risk of sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, I think he could do with a littlelesscare. I never had a sibling, but from what I understand, sometimes they get pigeonholed into their family roles. You’re the tough one. Jamie is the sensitive one. That doesn’t mean he needs quite so much care.” I meet her gaze. “Or that you don’t need any at all.”

Tiana squirms at that. I change the subject – away from her family and onto her own life and plans, more comfortable territory for her. We talk through lunch and dessert and coffee. Then someone raps on the open doorway of the private room.

Jamison ducks his head inside, puppy under his arm. “Sorry to interrupt, but Lucy isn’t answering her phone, and I believe we had an ice-cream date.”

I curse and scramble to my feet as he waves off my apologies.

“I could go for ice cream,” Tiana says.

“Next time.” Jamison gives her a sidelong glance and says casually. “Maybe we could invite Justice along, before he leaves New York.”

Tiana tenses, but Jamison lets the awkward silence drag until she nods and says, “Okay. Let’s do that.”

“Good.” Jamison gives his sister a fierce hug. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

He steps outside and lets me say my goodbyes to Tiana before I join him.

Jamison and I talk as we walk to the ice cream parlor. We get some looks, and a surreptitiously snapped photo or two, but we ignore them. I don’t ask how he’s doing. I can see the answer is “not great, but coping,” which is all I can ask for. He’s extended his stay at the rehab center, knowing this is a dangerous time for him. He’s fired his agent, and he’s looking for one who wants Jamie Morales-Gordon, not “Colt Gordon’s son.”

He’ll find his footing. I know he will.

We sit out on the parlor patio to eat our ice creams. Molly has her own – a kiddie cone, of course.

Eventually, conversation works around to me leaving the US.

“I’m going to spend a month with my mom before I go back,” I say.

“Is Marco staying, too?”

“I haven’t talked to him about that yet.” Jamison’s look tells me to get on that – pronto.

“I know,” I say. “I wanted to speak to you first and make sure you’re okay with me being in the US for a while.”

“Nah, hate it. Go back to Italy, please.” Another look. “Are you seriously asking, Lucy? Or is it a roundabout way of asking whether it’s okay to stay in contact… because part of the reason you’re staying is to keep an eye on me.”

“You don’t need that.”

“Mmm, not so sure. I’m doing okay, but I could probably use my Mary Poppins around for a bit as long as she has another reason to stay.”

“I do.”

He swirls his ice cream, licking up the drips. “I’d like that. Tiana will, too, even if she won’t admit it. Mom wanted you two to go public with your story. That was her way of handling it. This is another way.”

He nods at a young couple who are sneaking photos of us. “Not go public, but be seen in public. Be seen together. It says everything Mom wanted to say, if in a less dramatic fashion.”

“I think she’d like that.”