Chapter 9 - A PLACE AT THE TABLE
Six months later, the DeLuca estate looked entirely different.
The heavy, oppressive drapes that Eleanor had loved were gone, replaced by sheer linen that let the afternoon sunlight pour into the grand dining room. The sterile silence of the house had been replaced by the sound of laughter and the chaotic patter of small feet.
“Catch him!” Adrian yelled, laughing as Leo sprinted past the dining table clutching a toy dinosaur.
Julia, wearing a casual sweater and jeans, swooped in and scooped the squealing boy up into her arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Gotcha, you little menace,” she teased, tickling his sides.
I smiled, setting a bowl of fresh salad on the table. I wasn’t wearing a black uniform anymore. I was wearing a comfortable blouse and slacks. I wasn’t the maid. I was the estate manager, a position Adrian had insisted upon, with a salary that had paid off my sister’s medical bills in three months.
Elena walked in from the patio, her face glowing with health and color. She had spent the last six months in intensive therapy, surrounded by the love of her brother and Julia, slowly rebuilding the life her mother had stolen.
She walked over to Leo and Julia, wrapping her arms around both of them. Leo leaned back against his mother’s chest, completely comfortable, completely safe.
“Dinner is ready,” I announced, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
I turned to head back to the kitchen to give them their privacy, a habit born of five years of subservience.
“Nora, where are you going?” Adrian asked.
I paused. “To the kitchen, sir. To clean up.”
Adrian frowned, walking over to me. He gently took the dish towel from my hands and tossed it onto the counter.
“I told you to stop calling me sir months ago,” Adrian said gently. He pulled out the chair to his right—the chair his mother used to sit in. “Sit down.”
I stared at the chair, my heart doing a strange flutter. “Adrian, I shouldn’t. This is family dinner.”
“Exactly,” Elena said, walking over with Leo on her hip. She pulled out the chair next to it for herself. “You kept my things when the world told you to burn them. You walked me to the bus stop when I was terrified. You’re family, Nora. You always have been.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I looked at Julia, who smiled warmly and gestured to the chair.
Slowly, I walked over and sat down.
The table wasn’t set with Eleanor’s rigid, perfect fine china. It was set with sturdy, everyday plates. The food wasn’t plated with tweezers; it was passed around in warm, heavy bowls, hands brushing against hands, voices overlapping in happy chaos.
At the center of the table, resting next to a vase of fresh wildflowers, was the silver rosary.
It had been repaired by a jeweler in the city, the broken links soldered back together, stronger than they were before. It was a reminder of what had been broken, and the painstaking, beautiful work it took to put it back together.
Leo sat next to me, struggling to scoop peas onto his fork.
“Need help, buddy?” I asked softly.
He shook his head, his green eyes determined. “I can do it, Aunt Nora.”
Aunt Nora.
The words settled into my chest, a warm, heavy truth. I looked around the table at the people who had fought through hell to find their way back to each other.
Eleanor was serving a ten-year sentence in a federal facility, stripped of her wealth and her title. She had tried to build a legacy on control and fear, and it had crumbled to dust.
Adrian and Elena were building a legacy on truth.
May you like
I picked up my glass of water, taking a sip, and let the afternoon sun warm my face. I didn’t have to hide in the garage quarters anymore. I didn’t have to make myself invisible to survive.
I had a seat at the table. And for the first time in my life, I was exactly where I belonged.
