Blue Smoke by Nora Roberts

more ready than ever to see what was next.
    Even the house had changed in her absence. She’d be sharing with Fran for the next few weeks. Bella needed her own room for all the wedding paraphernalia, and Fran, in her easygoing way, had turned over her own bedroom for the duration.
    â€œEasier,” Fran said when Reena asked her. “Keeps the peace and it’s only for a couple more weeks. She’s all but moved into the house Vince’s parents bought for them.”
    â€œI can’t believe they bought them a house. ” Reena arranged tops in her second drawer the way she liked best. According to color.
    The single thing she wouldn’t miss about dorm life was the constant disorder.
    â€œWell, they’re rich. This is a great dress,” Fran added as she hung some of Reena’s clothes in the closet. “Where’d you get it?”
    â€œHit the mall after finals. Shopping’s a great stress reliever.” And she’d wanted some new things, for her new self. “It’s sort of strange, Bella being the first of us to move out. I thought it would be you or me. She’s always been the most needy.”
    â€œVince is giving her what she needs.” Fran turned, and though she knew her sister’s face and form as intimately as her own, Reena was struck. In the streams of afternoon light, Fran looked like a painting. Gilded and gorgeous.
    â€œI don’t know him all that well, but he seems nice—steady. And God knows he’s handsome.”
    â€œCrazy about her. Treats her like a princess, which is what she’s always wanted. Rich doesn’t hurt either,” Fran added with a tiny smirk. “Once he finishes law school and passes the bar, he’ll go straight onto the fast track at his father’s firm. Rightfully so, from what I hear. He’s brilliant. Mama and Dad like him a lot.”
    â€œHow about you?”
    â€œI do. He’s got style, which Bella likes, but he’s easy around the family, and slips into the rhythm when we’re here, or down at the shop.” Something wistful came into her face as she kept her hands busy unpacking Reena’s things. “He looks at Bella like she’s a work of art. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she added. “It’s like he’s stunned by his good fortune. Most of all, he rolls with her moods. Which are legion.”
    â€œThen he has the seal of approval.” Reena walked over to the closet herself, drew out the mint green confection of a bridesmaid dress. “Could be uglier.”
    â€œSure.” Studying it, Fran leaned on the jamb, folded her arms. “She could’ve gone with the puce. We’ll all look a bit sallow and silly next to her elegant radiance. Which is exactly the plan.”
    With a grin, Reena let the dress fall back. “Better than the pumpkin orange with the million flounces and puff sleeves cousin Angela decked us out in last year.”
    â€œDon’t remind me. Even Bella’s not that mean.”
    â€œLet’s make a pact. When our turns come around, we pick dresses for each other that don’t make us look like homely runners-up.”
    Fran put her arms around Reena, pressed cheek to cheek and swayed. “It’s so good to have you home.”
    S he walked down to Sirico’s at lunchtime, straight into the familiar scents and sounds.
    They’d done more than clean up and repair after the fire. They’d kept traditions—the kitchen area open to the dining area, the bottles of Chianti serving as candleholders, the wide glass display holding the desserts still purchased from the Italian bakery every day.
    But they’d made changes, too, as if to say they not only weren’t leveled by adversity, but would use it to thrive.
    The walls were a dusky Tuscan yellow now, and her mother had done dozens of new drawings. Not only of the family, but of the neighborhood itself, of Sirico’s as