Love & Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch Read Free Book Online

suddenly I realized that I’d been slowly gravitating toward her. We were only like five inches apart. Oops. I sprang back, and questions started flying out of my mouth.
    â€œMy mom lived at the cemetery? For how long?”
    â€œNot very long. Maybe a month or so? It was right after your dad got the job. He’d just barely moved into this house.”
    â€œSo they were like, together together? It wasn’t like a one-night stand between friends or something?” That was Addie’s theory.
    Sonia cringed. “Uh . . . no. I don’t think it was . . . that. They seemed very in love. Your dad adored her.”
    â€œSo then why did she leave? Was it because she was pregnant? Howard wasn’t ready to be a dad?”
    â€œNo. Howard would have been a great dad—I thought . . .” She put her hands up. “Wait a minute. Haven’t they talked to you about what happened? Your mom didn’t explain things?”
    I dropped my head. “I don’t know anything. I didn’t even know Howard was my dad until after my mom died.” Great. Now I was going to cry. Losing my mom had turned me into a human faucet. The regular hot/cold kind.
    â€œOh, Lina. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I assumed they’d talked to you about what happened. To be honest, I don’t even really know what went wrong. It seemed like their relationship ended pretty suddenly, and then your dad never wanted to discuss it.”
    â€œDid he ever talk about me? Before now?”
    She shook her head, her long dangly earrings swinging back and forth. “No. I was pretty surprised when I heard about you coming to live here. But you really need to talk to Howard. I’m sure he’ll answer all of your questions. And maybe the journal will too.” She held the flower pot out to me. “I went into town early this morning and your dad asked me to pick these up for you. He said your room was missing flowers and that violets were your mother’s favorite.”
    I took them from her and studied them suspiciously. The flowers were deep purple and had a subtle scent. I was ninety-nine percent sure my mom hadn’t had any special feelings for violets.
    â€œWould you rather I keep the journal for a while? It sounds like it’s a lot to process. Maybe you should spend some time talking to your dad first.”
    I shook my head. Slowly at first, and then more forcefully. “No, I want it.”
    Technically a lie. I’d packed up the rest of her journals several months earlier when I’d finally given up on the idea that I’d ever be able to read them without falling apart. But I had to read this one. She’d sent it to me.
    I blinked a couple of times, then put on my best I’m in control now smile for Sonia, who was looking at me with the expression of a hapless bystander trapped in a hallway by an emotionally unstable teenager. Which she was.
    I cleared my throat. “It’ll be nice. I can read about what she did while she was in Italy.”
    Her expression softened. “Yes, exactly. I’m sure that’s why she sent it. You’ll be experiencing Florence just like she did, and maybe it will be a nice connection.”
    â€œYeah, maybe.”
    If I could make it past the first page without falling apart.
    â€œLina, it really is great having you here. And stop by anytime to see that photograph of your mother’s.” She walked to the top of the stairs and then looked back. “I meant to tell you, it’s best to water violets from the bottom. Just fill up a saucer and set the whole pot in there. That way you won’t overwater. They could probably use a drink right away.”
    â€œThanks, Sonia. And I’m, uh . . . sorry for all those questions.”
    â€œI understand. And I really liked your mother. She was pretty special.”
    â€œYeah. She was.” I hesitated. “Would you mind