The act had left him fractured, and Haven was still trying to come to grips with the fact that it might be a long time before he was whole again. And as grateful as she was to be alive, as blessed as she felt to be standing there, picking out a Christmas tree with the boy she loved, she was also angry. Not at him—not anymore. That anger had been unfounded. She was mad at herself now, and at the universe, because no matter what she did, she couldn’t help Carmine. She was helpless to his plight. There was no way for her to end his torment. No way for her to save him.
Once again in her life, Haven felt powerless.
So she stood by silently, continuing to watch, terrified of looking him in the eyes one day and seeing regret. Frightened that someday, he would turn to her and she would see her worst fear playing out in his face: that she hadn’t been worth it.
Eventually, the evergreen toppled in Haven’s direction. She jumped out of the way at the last second, the tree nearly hitting her.
“Sorry, tesoro.” Carmine dropped the ax and pulled his black long-sleeved shirt up, exposing his toned stomach as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
He grinned proudly as he lugged the tree toward the car. She picked up his ax, surprised by how heavy it was, and followed behind. He threw the tree over the fence like it was no trouble at all and helped her to the other side.
“What are we going to do with it?” she asked.
“Tie it to the car and take it home,” he replied, taking the ax from her. He tossed it in the trunk and pulled out a coil of rope, holding it up to show her.
“Are you sure?” she asked as Carmine grabbed the tree and shoved it on top of the car. The branches scraped against the shiny black paint. She couldn’t imagine they would get it home without causing some damage.
He sighed exasperatedly. “Of course I’m sure, Haven. What is it with you and that damn question today? Don’t you trust me anymore?”
She was taken aback by his question. She hadn’t realized she had been repeating it. “Of course I trust you! I was just . . . double checking.”
“Well, I guess questioning me is always better than saying okay,” he replied, positioning the tree and tying it down. It hung over all sides of the small vehicle, blocking half of the front windshield and most of the back. “I still mean everything I say.”
“I know,” she said. “I believe you.”
Carmine tugged on the evergreen, making sure it was secure. Satisfied with the job he had done, he motioned for Haven to get in the car, but she didn’t budge.
“So, what’s theft?” she asked. “A misdemeanor or a felony?”
Carmine stared at her for a moment before the question sunk in. Instead of answering, he pulled out his wallet and counted out some money. He hopped the fence and jogged over to the building, slipping the cash under the door for the tree they had cut down.
“Theft?” he asked when he returned, smiling sheepishly. “What made you think we were stealing something today?”
* * *
Haven had been right.
Tiny scratches sprinkled the roof of the car, a more noticeable jagged gash down the center. Carmine ran his pointer finger along it. “Fucking tree.”
“Is it easily fixed?” Haven asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “I just hate seeing my baby abused. We should’ve taken my dad’s Mercedes. The scratches would match the mark you put on his side mirror.”
Haven smiled at the memory of her first driving lesson. “I prefer riding in yours.”
“Do you?” Carmine asked, looking at her with genuine curiosity. “You like the Mazda?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s nice. Feels warm and familiar. Besides, I’ve never been thrown in the trunk of yours.”
Carmine blinked rapidly, gaping at her, before turning without a word to where the tree lay in the front yard. He grabbed it by the trunk and dragged it toward the house, leaving a trail of fresh pine needles behind him.
* * *
The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Vincent joined them in the family room with a tree stand and a box of decorations, and the rest of the family started showing up later in the day. They had just gotten the tree up straight and the lights strung on it when Carmine’s brother, Dominic, burst through the front door, home for winter break from Notre Dame. He threw his bags down in the foyer and rushed right for them, tackling Carmine to the hard wood floor. He playfully ruffled his hair before scooping Haven up in a hug. “Twinkle Toes!” He swung her around in a circle. “I’ve missed you, girl.”
“You just saw her a month ago,” Carmine grumbled, standing back up. Pain shot down his spine as he stretched, and he cringed. “And hello to you too, motherfucker.”
Dominic laughed, setting Haven on her feet before shoving his brother. Carmine stumbled again, falling into the tree and knocking it crooked. “I missed you, too, bro. Glad to see you.”
Carmine rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance at his brother’s antics, but a small involuntary smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t deny he missed the lightheartedness that usually accompanied Dominic’s presence. Carmine always envied that—his brother’s ability to ease any situation. They could have certainly used it the past month as everyone tiptoed around, walking on eggshells and ignoring reality, in fear of accidently hitting the red button that set off a nuclear disaster.
Carmine’s future, Haven’s past, Vincent’s charges, Corrado’s health . . . the words Carmine longed to say were always there, on the tip of his tongue, but they never made it through the meaningless chatter. They were always talking, but no one ever fucking said anything.