Yesterday's Stardust by Becky Melby Page A

of pasta, dropped it into his mouth, and closed his eyes.
“Dolce signora,
I am in love.” The sharp angles of his jaw softened. “When will I learn to cook like you? When will you come to work for me? I steal your recipes and still nothing I make is like this.
Delizioso.
”
    Lavinia set the pan on the table. The reluctant smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she raised her hands and shook her head spoke of a history of forgiving against her will.
    There were stories in this house.
    Vito’s recliner squeaked. “Let’s eat,” he said as he walked into the room. He took his chair at the head of the table. Lavinia sat at the opposite end. Dani ended up next to Todd and across the table from Rena and Nicky. Vito folded his gorilla hands and lowered his head. “Bless us, O Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
    Todd picked up a basket of garlic bread and passed it to Dani. “So you’re a reporter.”
    Wherever this was going, she already didn’t like it. “Yes.”
    “That explains what you were doing the night we met.”
    “The night we met.”
It sounded like a line from a chick flick.
    He rubbed the sandy beard stubble on his chin. “I just have to wonder—”
    “Todd.” Vito pointed at a cut glass dish. “Have a pickle.”
    Todd smiled and picked up the dish. Lavinia pointed a fork at him. “Tell Dani about the concert at your church.”
    One shoulder shrugged. “We’re doing sort of a coffeehouse thing.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll write down the website before we leave.”
    “He’s so modest. Todd’s a drummer. An excellent drummer. You like rock music, don’t you, Dani?” Lavinia nodded and her chin jutted slightly forward and to the side.
    “Sure, but I lean toward the quieter stuff.” Dani aimed her answer at Todd. “Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman’s worship songs, and Colbie Caillat, Jamie Cullum, Nora—”
    “Jones?” Rena leaned forward. “That’s Nicky’s kind of music. Bet you like Katie Melua’s stuff.”
    “I”—she swallowed hard—“Yes. I love ‘The Flood.’”
    “Nicky just bought—”
    “Rena.” Lavinia picked up a glass dish. “Have a pickle.”
    She took the dish and passed it. “Have a pickle, Danielle.”
    What’s going on?
It seemed like everybody was working off a different script. Lavinia was trying to set her up with Todd, and Rena acted like she was trying…No. Just her imagination.
Change the subject.
“What do you do for fun, Rena?”
    The girl darted a glance at her brother. “I hang out with friends.”
    Nicky’s seemingly permanent scowl deepened.
Stories.
    “Mostly I just work.”
    “Well, you’re good at that. Some waitresses I’ve met never smile.” She gave a half wink that could pass for a nervous tic. “I think it must be the working conditions.”
    “Yeah, I love my job.” Rena gave a carbon copy of the half wink.
    “The food was delicious. And the atmosphere so”—she raised one eyebrow—“friendly.”
    Rena coughed on a bite of mostaccioli. “That’s us. The happy Fiorinis. Our happy family has been giving that place a happy atmosphere since 1923.”
    A chill shimmied up Dani’s back. Should she tell Rena about the diary? It wasn’t the kind of secret she wanted to keep to herself.
    She’d read a dozen or more entries before falling asleep. Not enough to figure out how the girl who started in Osseo ended up in Kenosha. She could have skipped to the final year of the diary, but she hated reading endings first. “I love old buildings and the stories behind them. Do you know much about your family history?”
    “I don’t, but Nicky does. He listens to my grandfather’s old stories.”
    Lavinia poised a spoon over the pan. “If you like historic buildings, you should see the house on Third Street Todd grew up in. Not far from you, Dani.” She turned to Todd. “Dani lives in the cutest little apartment across from the Kemper Center. You two