“Let’s have a little chat, shall we?” I glare. “You’re going to stop being such a pain in my ass and do as you’re told.”

“Dear?”

I freeze, staring at the fancy cappuccino machine I just gave a good talking-to. I’m sure I look like a lunatic. I’m talking to an inanimate object, giving it the business like it’s actually going to listen.

I turn and plaster a smile on my face, hoping Betty didn’t actually hear my crazy conversation. “Hey, Betty.”

She’s smiling. That’s a good sign. Or she already thinks I’m nuts, and I’ve just confirmed every thought she has about me. “Having problems?”

My shoulders sag forward as I groan. “This damn machine. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to get such a complicated contraption.”

Betty laughs as she steps into the middle of the shop. “I’m sure Angelo can figure it out,” she says.

“Maybe I’ll ask him for help.”

“He loves helping.”

She’s selling him hard. She doesn’t have to with me. I already know he’s a diamond in the rough. The way he treats his kids makes my empty womb crave to be filled.

“The shop’s coming along nicely.” She glances around. “I’d guess you like pink.”

“Eh,” I mutter. “I’m more of a red girl, but that’s a little too jarring for a cupcake place.”

“Who said?”

“The designer I hired. She said pink and cream are more inviting. She gave me the psychology behind the color theory, but for the life of me, I can’t remember. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”

“I wanted to talk about earlier.” She pulls the gloves off her hands and keeps her eyes on me. “I hope you didn’t think I was being too pushy.”

“I’d never think that.”

She was forward, but her honesty was a breath of fresh air. I always get Roger’s opinion, but since he has a penis, his opinion isn’t always on point.

“Why don’t I grab us two drinks from the bar, and we can finish our chat?”

“How about some cocoa instead? I still have so much work to do. If I start drinking, I’m going to end up in bed way earlier than I want.”

“Cocoa, it is.” She slides into the pink velvet banquette I had specially made for the shop and places her gloves on the tabletop.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her before I head into the kitchen to grab two mugs and the cocoa I’d been heating on the stove.

Even though I’ve been in Chicago for years, my body hasn’t gotten used to the cold. Growing up in the South, anything below sixty was enough to cause my body to go into shock. Cocoa had become my staple to get me through the cold winter nights, especially since Mitchell died.

“Here we go.” I take the seat across from her and place the two mugs in front of us.

She wraps her slender fingers around the mug, soaking in the warmth. “When’s the grand opening again?”

“In a week.” I sigh. “I’m so far behind, and my contractor is a flake.”

“That’s a shame.”

I shrug. I’ve learned not to depend on anyone, even when money’s involved. “I should’ve planned for this, but I was too caught up in the excitement, I didn’t have a backup plan.”

She lifts the mug to her lips and blows across the top. “It’s hard to plan for the unexpected sometimes.”

Isn’t that the truth? I never expected Mitchell not to come back from his mission. When we married, I knew what kind of life I was getting myself into. Military life isn’t for everyone. I accepted his long absences because he always came back to me. I knew he was in danger every time he went off to God knows where, but never once did I imagine my husband wouldn’t come home. Sure, I knew women who lost their spouses in action, but I never thought I’d be in the same shoes.

Naïve, I know.

Looking back, I realize I was a complete moron. Mitchell was bigger than life, and he always seemed invincible.

“Maybe you need to go out for an evening and unwind. All this stress isn’t good for you.” She takes a sip, eyeing me over the rim.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know Angelo could use a night out too.”

I love this woman. She doesn’t leave much to the imagination. She doesn’t just drop hints, she hurls bombs.

“I’m sure it’s not easy for him with the kids.”

I know she wants me to take the bait, but I don’t. An evening out with Angelo would in no way be a hardship. The man is handsome, sweet, and just one look at him and my body’s about to do the horizontal mambo.

She waves me off. “I’ll watch the kids. They’ll only be little for a short time. I spoil them while I can. You two should go out and get to know each other better.” She smirks.

I lean forward and set my mug on the gray and white marble table. “Can I be frank, Betty?”

She nods.

“I don’t think Angelo’s ready, and I’m not sure I’m the right one for him.”

She stares at me for a moment and doesn’t speak. I’m truly flattered she wants us to spend time together. What girl wouldn’t be when a hot guy’s mom thinks you should get to know her son better?

“The one thing I know is my children. Angelo feels things deeper than most people. Losing Marissa almost broke him. But I also know he’s not meant to be alone.”

“I…”

“I think you two would be perfect for each other.”

“Betty,” I say, thinking about how to put into words what I feel. “I understand his grief probably better than most people in the world. There’s a helplessness and infiniteness to the pain and darkness. It took me a long time before I felt human again. I’ve never experienced such crushing grief. I know your family wants what’s best for him and for him to move on, but until he’s ready, there’s nothing that will open his heart, not even if he finds the perfect person.”

“He’s lonely. Even with the kids, he’s lonely. I don’t think he can escape the darkness until he finds someone with light. Someone who will remind him what it means to be loved and to be a man,” she tells me and reaches across the table, touching my hand. “I’m not asking you to love him, dear, but maybe be his friend. As you said, no one else understands what he’s going through like you do. Maybe he’ll feel comfortable and open up to you. If nothing else, maybe you can help him see there’s still more life to live.”

I get what she’s saying. For years, I avoided going to support groups. I didn’t think they’d help. Talking to strangers about something so personal wasn’t easy either. But opening up to people, knowing I wasn’t alone in how I felt did bring peace, even if only for a little while.

“We could always use more friends. I just don’t want you to think that he and I will be anything more.”

It almost pains me to say those words. Angelo’s a man I could easily fall head over heels for. He’s a little intense, but Mitchell wasn’t a walk in the park either. Strong men are always a little over the top, and I’ve never been one to go for the hipster type who wears skinny jeans and spouts sweet words. I need a man with a little bite to him.

Betty nods as she takes another sip of her cocoa. She’s stunningly beautiful with her bright red hair and pale skin. “Sure, dear. Of course. If there’s no spark, there’s no spark.”

“Betty.” She’s goading me, and I’m falling right into her trap. “I never said there wasn’t a spark. At least, for me. I just can’t rush his heart’s ability to move on.”

She beams with excitement. “Sure. Sure. I completely understand. Friendship is a great place to start.” She dabs the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. “You said you were having some problems getting work done?”

I nod and push away the mug of cocoa. “I am. I have a few things that need doing, and I don’t have the skill set to do them.” I shrug. “I’ll have to look on Craigslist and see who I can find in a pinch.”

“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head. “I have two men next door who can handle the work. Three, if you include Vinnie who should be home any day now for a few days before his spring break ends.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Doll, let my boys help. They love feeling needed, and right now, you’re in need. That’s what we do in this neighborhood. We’re a small little family, bound not by blood but by location.”

I have a feeling that isn’t always the case. If I were some crotchety old man with a problem, I wouldn’t have three strapping men helping after their momma sent them over to come to my rescue.

“How are your boys going to feel about you offering their services?”

“They’ll do whatever I tell them,” she says with a smirk.

I have no doubt Betty rules that household. It’s the Italian way. I don’t think I know any Italian man who isn’t wrapped around his mother’s finger. There’re worse things to be. A man who will adore his mother most likely knows how to treat a woman and has learned respect. That’s a way of life I could get behind.

“Let me see if I can find someone else first. If I can’t, I’ll ask the guys to give me a hand.”

She nods again and slides out of the booth. “That’s fine.”

I rise to my feet, towering over her in my high heels. “Thanks for stopping by,” I say, not sure if I should hug her, so I just stand there.

All doubt is wiped away as Betty puts her arms around me and embraces me so tightly, I almost break down in tears. It’s been so long since anyone’s held me besides Roger. The sentiment is touching, and I know in this moment, not only could I fall for Angelo, but his family too.