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“We can add in traditions you grew up with.”
Like the Easter egg hunts that Vivan would attend, if whatever town she and her dad were in at the time offered one.
“If you want,” Susan said softly when Vivian didn’t respond.
“My dad wasn’t really into traditions, but my aunt may know a few that she and my mom grew up with.” Vivian made a note to call her aunt and ask about them. And her grandparents? She didn’t even know if they were still alive. When her aunt Kitty had left, so had Vivian’s connection to her maternal grandparents. And her father had never talked about his parents, except for regularly reminding Vivian how much freer her childhood had been compared to his.
“So, yes, I want.” She had friends in Las Vegas and had shared some of their traditions on holidays—if they weren’t working—but never allowed herself to think about her family. Thinking about what her dad had denied her growing up just made her mad, and she didn’t want to spend her time mad at her father. No matter his faults, he was her father and she wasn’t going to get another one. However, if she concentrated too much on the good memories, she was easy prey when he called and asked her to send him money. Her relationship with her father was the two-faced Janus and she just tried not to look.
Could being a part of a family give her the courage to face both sides of her father without losing herself?
“Good, dear.” Susan patted her hand with affection. “And, even though I’ve not asked, you’re always welcome to come to Mass with me.”
“I know. I appreciate both the welcome and the not asking.”
Vivian had spent sixteen years in Las Vegas and developed a community around herself. She’d had friends and known the folks who worked at her favorite coffee shop, but it was different than the community that Susan was inviting her to join. Las Vegas had been transitory, especially toward the end when the economy was crashing and so many of her friends were leaving for greener pastures.
Chicago—and Archer Heights—felt permanent.
CHAPTER TWENTY
FOR THE FIRST time since they had all been living in Chicago as adults, his mom had convinced all her children to go to Mass. Easter Mass was especially long, and by the end Karl was pretty sure most of his siblings and their significant others were regretting their decision, though only Miles’s daughter was saying anything. Dan was elbowing Tilly and rubbing his behind, making his sister laugh. Once, Dan had made his sister cry until she was almost empty of tears, and now he could make her laugh as easily as he could blink his eyes.
And that’s what Karl had always enjoyed about the Easter service, long as it was. Easter and spring represented rebirth and second chances. During the worst years of his first marriage, second chances had always seemed like a burden. A burden to Jessica to grant and a burden to Karl to have to keep asking for. With Vivian, asking for a second chance seemed glorious—as though the sanctuary had been dark and all the lights were now being turned on in celebration.
Disgorged from their cars, the Mileks and their significant others spilled into his mom’s kitchen. Vivian was sitting at the table reading. She looked both at home and as though she didn’t belong there.
“Where’s breakfast? I’m starving.” Sarah looked put-upon, as only well-cared-for teenagers and dogs can.
“First things first.” His mother bustled through the crowd to sit at the table. She buzzed with energy, her face alight with the pleasure of being surrounded by family. “Before the boys get to work on breakfast, we all have eggs to eat.”
“Easter is a day of rest for Polish women. Dan, Miles and I will finish whatever is required for breakfast while the rest of you sit in the living room,” Karl explained at the puzzled look on his wife’s face, coming around to stand behind her and placing his hand on her shoulder. She leaned over to drop a peck of a kiss onto his hand. A small, insignificant gesture that she probably didn’t even notice she made but that started Karl’s heart racing.
“It seems like cheating, since your mom made most of the food already, and all you have to do is put it on the table.”
