This surely was the end of the world. She was just considering what she should do with her drunk father on the lawn when the carabinieri arrived, summoned by Atillio, no doubt. They shook their heads at Hazel and Stefano in shared sympathy as they picked up the snoring Roberto from the grass and carried him to the waiting police car.

The last cop to leave took a drag on his cigarette, which he admirably had managed to continue smoking during the entire operation. He pointed it toward the car and Roberto. “He is always this way.”

It was time for a heart to heart with her mother, and it wasn’t something that Hazel was looking forward to. These last few days had just seemed like one crisis after another; each horror story chipping away at the foundation of her life until she was left with only a crumbling ruin. She wasn’t even sure what was real anymore.

Indigo hadn’t gone very far. When Hazel and Stefano walked back into the kitchen, there was Indigo sitting at the table, a teapot in the center and three mugs in front of three places. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said dispiritedly.

“I’ll go upstairs,” Stefano said, “This is business for family.”

Indigo stood up and grabbed Stefano’s hand as he tried to pass. “No, Stefano. You stay. You’re family too. Hazel needs all the support she can get, and she may not want me.”

Hazel’s first instinct was to go to her room, close the drapes and sink into a blissfully unconscious sleep. Sleep would make all of this go away. But her mother’s pleading face stopped her. Hazel was angry, yes, but she was mostly sad; sad that her mother had lived all of her life with these huge secrets she couldn’t share. Her mother was a little nutty, sure, but she didn’t have a spiteful bone in her body. This had been one major mistake, one it would take Hazel a long time to process, but she would work through it, with Indigo. Right now who else did she have? She pulled out a chair and sat down, folding her arms across her chest.

Indigo took a breath and began to confess. “I loved him madly and completely. He swept me off my feet.”

Stefano reached out for the teapot and filled the mugs. Hazel wrapped her hands around the steamy mug; it was too hot outside for drinking tea, but it grounded her.

“I was pregnant with you when I left Borgotaro, Hazel." She took a shaky breath but smiled at the memory, "I’d been living in this house for two years. His mother begged me to stay. She thought a family would be a sobering influence on Roberto, but by then I knew how toxic his behavior was. I didn’t want to bring a baby into that environment. He followed me back to the US and begged me to give him another chance. And I let him stay. He had jobs off and on but mostly he was like that,” she waved her hand toward the garden. “He burned through any money we made; gambling it away. His mother sent me money every month just so we could keep up with our rent on our crappy little apartments. She was a wonderful woman, Maria. I loved her as though she were my own mother, and she loved me right back. I think she loved me more than Roberto, really.” Indigo chuckled and took a sip of her tea. “I know that I loved him more than she did. She knew he was broken way before I had figured it out.”

“Why don’t I remember him?” Hazel asked.

“I made sure you didn’t, sweetie. He wasn’t a good dad for you.”

She ignored the obvious question, wasn’t that my decision, and instead asked, “What happened then?”

“Well, then your sister was born, wasn’t she? And while your Dad could put up with one little person taking all the attention away from him, he couldn’t put up with two. He took off.”

“Took off where?” Hazel asked.

She was so intent on her mother’s story she had forgotten that Stefano was seated beside her. “To my mother,” he said.

Indigo humphed and reached for more tea. “Now that was a piece of news I could have done without.”

Realization dawned on Hazel. “Wait, Stefano. I know why you’re here. You’re here because you thought this house would go to you as your father’s son. You’re my brother. And you didn’t even know we existed, did you?”

“No. But I’m very glad you exist,” he smiled at Hazel, and although there was a note of sadness in his eyes, she felt warmed. He was glad, and so was she. She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Welcome home, bro.” She said and gave him the same sad smile in return.

“When I first arrived and Indigo told me the house was left to her, she showed me the papers.” He turned to Indigo, “I told you I was her nephew because once I saw those papers I knew you must be a good friend of my grandmother’s. My grandmother didn’t want to know I existed. I said I was her nephew so I could think. And then you said I could stay. And then I didn't want to leave. Or make trouble.”

Indigo jumped up from the table and crossed to Stefano’s chair, pulling him into a hug, “Now Stefano, I knew Maria well and I know it couldn't be true that she didn't want to know about you. It’s more likely that Roberto didn’t tell her about you at all and just told your Mother she didn't want to know. She was already so angry with him for leaving me. And so angry that I kept giving him money. She would have told me if she'd known about you. She would have known that information would have made me stop giving him money.”

“My mother thought he was good at his gambling,” Stefano said, shaking his head. “He would go away for long times and she would be sad but then he would come back with money. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. He told her he won it on the horses.”

“Horses, my ass!” Indigo stood and paced the kitchen. “I’m such an idiot!”

Hazel realized her mother must have loved him, or at least the man she knew all those years ago. “You kept giving him money, didn’t you, Mother? All these years when you told me you needed money for some crazy scheme or other, or for rent, or for car repairs. You were sending money to him.”

Indigo moved to Hazel, unfolded her tense arms and took her hands. “We have so much to talk about sweetie. I’ve been an idiot, and I hope you can forgive me. I felt responsible for him but I also loved him. I probably love him still. He just couldn’t seem to do life by himself. I enabled him, and it was wrong and you probably can’t understand loving someone so much that even though you know they will throw the money away, you can’t help giving it to them.”

Hazel smiled at the irony. “Oh, but I can, Mother. I understand it one hundred percent. I think there's someone in this room that maybe I’ve done the same for.” At least her mother had the decency to blush.

“That’s why I brought you here, sweetie. Maria didn’t want Roberto to have this house or the money. She knew he would drink it, or gamble it away. She wanted to pay me back for everything I tried to do, and I wanted to pay you back. I made you grow up way too fast, but trust me, it was better growing up fast with a perfect father in your head, than growing up fast with a drunk father in real life.”

“Don’t worry Mom. I forgive you. I have lots of questions and a huge loss to grieve but I think I know why you did it, and as always, you meant well.” Hazel stood up and stretched her arms over her head yawning. “Now we need to decide what to do, and Stefano you're a big part of that decision. But we’ll need to talk about it later because I need a nap to escape from this trauma. My head’s about to explode, I think.” Hazel headed toward the stairs, already picturing her head hitting the pillow.

“Sweetie?”

Hazel stopped.

“I was angry out there and I lashed out at Atillio. It wasn’t fair. The town is what it is, and I knew I couldn’t come back here and shield you from the gossip forever. I’ll go up and soothe his ruffled feathers later today, but Dean…  Dean must have had a reason for not telling you, and I'll bet it was a good one. I don’t think he’s the lying type."

An image of Isabella’s perfect lips pressed against his flashed in Hazel’s brain. “Oh, believe me Mother, he is.”

“Well, don’t you think you should talk to him first? Before he leaves? Are you just going to cut him off? It doesn’t seem like you.”

Hazel sighed deeply, her disappointment sitting right in the middle of her chest. “No I’m not going to talk to him first. I'm afraid he is cut off.”

She headed to her bed. She wouldn't think about Dean. She couldn't think about Dean.