Page 98 of Inferno

Prissy laughed. “You should try coming to the hair salon with me one day,” she teased, descending the rest of the stairs.

“No way,” Marcus said with a vigorous shake of his head. “My mom used to—” He broke off abruptly, his expression darkening with pain and anger. After shooting a glance at Michael, he returned his attention to the pinball machine, but with far less enthusiasm than before.

Prissy’s heart broke.

She looked at Michael, who’d been studying her with that keenly perceptive gaze that always reminded her of his father’s and Stan’s. “Is everything okay, Aunt Prissy?” he asked in concern.

She nodded quickly, even as tears crowded her throat. “If my eyes look a little red,” she lied, “it’s from chopping onions for dinner.”

Michael nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “What’re you making?”

“Oh, nothing fancy. Just a pot roast with garlic mashed potatoes and honey-glazed green beans.”

“Sounds good,” Michael said approvingly.

“I think you might enjoy it.” Prissy smiled fondly at him. “Your father tells me you’ve been cooking for him and Marcus.”

Michael shrugged dismissively. “Dad works long hours, so….” He trailed off with another shrug of his shoulder.

Prissy wasn’t at all fooled by his attempt to downplay the way he’d been taking care of his broken family. “Your dad says whenever you come home from a tough practice, or if your basketball team loses, you march straight to the kitchen and start cooking up a storm to work off your anger and frustration. He says by the time you’re finished, the kitchen looks like a disaster area, but you’ve made enough food to last for two weeks.”

Michael fought a smile, looking embarrassed. “Dad tends to exaggerate.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Marcus interjected without glancing up from the pinball machine. “Youdocook like that. And his food’s pretty good, Aunt Prissy.”

“I bet it is,” she agreed, affectionately rubbing both of their backs as she stood between them. “I still remember the delicious omelet he made for us over the summer at Mama Wolf’s house. Best omelet I’ve ever had. Maybe one day you can become a chef, Michael.”

“Nah.”He shook his head. “I’m gonna be an engineer.”

Prissy smiled softly. “Well, whatever you decide to be, I know that your parents will be very proud of you. Of both of you,” she added, turning to Marcus. “They love you both very much, and your happiness means more to them than anything else.”

When her nephews said nothing, she thought of the family experiences they would never again share with their parents, the memories they would never make. And she thought of the brother or sister they would never get to meet and bond with.

Suddenly the tears she’d been struggling to contain broke free and began streaming down her face.

Marcus eyed her worriedly. “Why are you crying, Aunt Prissy?”

“Because I love you and your brother so much,” she whispered achingly, tenderly kissing their foreheads. “And I hope you know that I will always be here for you, no matter what. If there’s anything I can do for you,anythingat all, you pick up the phone and call me. Will you promise me that?”

The two brothers looked at each other, eyes bright with unshed tears, nostrils flaring with suppressed emotion.As proud and vulnerable as wounded eagles trying to soar above the darkest storm clouds.

Without a word they turned to Prissy, Marcus wrapping his arms tightly around her waist while Michael drew his arms around her shoulders. She closed her eyes, her heart expanding as she savored the precious connection.

She wasn’t their mother, and she would never try to be. But from that day forward, she vowed to do her damnedest to ensure that Michael and Marcus would never lack the warmth of a mother’s love.