Hiding Cracked E-Book

James J. Cudney

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

A blackmail letter arrives at an inopportune moment, and the recipient's name is blurred out. Who is the ruthless missive meant for?

In the powerful sequel to Watching Glass Shatter, Olivia is the first to read the nasty threat. When the mysterious letter falls into the wrong hands, her sons try to figure out who's seeking revenge on them.

Across the span of eight hours, members of the Glass family contemplate whether to confess their hidden secrets, or find a way to bury them forever. Some didn't learn an important lesson last time, and as each hour ticks by, the family has to come to terms with what happened in the previous months.

Their lives are about to shatter into pieces once again, and this time the stakes are even higher.

Leseprobe

Hiding Cracked Glass

Perceptions Of Glass Book 2

James J. Cudney

Copyright (C) 2020 James J. Cudney

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2020 by Next Chapter

Published 2020 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Acknowledgements

Writing a book is not an achievement an individual person can accomplish on his or her own. There are always people who contribute in a multitude of ways, sometimes unwittingly, throughout the journey from discovering the idea to drafting the last word. Hiding Cracked Glass, the second book in my Perceptions of Glass contemporary fiction / family drama series, has had many supporters since its inception in the fall 2019, but before the concept even sparked in my mind, others nurtured my passion for writing.

First thanks go to my parents, Jim and Pat, for always believing in me as a writer and teaching me how to become the person I am today. Their unconditional love and support have been the primary reason I accomplish my goals. Through the guidance of my extended family and friends, who consistently encourage me to pursue my passions, I found the confidence to take chances in life. With Winston and Baxter by my side, I was granted the opportunity to make my dreams of publishing this novel come true. I'm appreciative to them for inspiring me each day to complete this book.

Hiding Cracked Glass was cultivated through the interaction with and feedback from several talented alpha and beta readers. I'd like to share a special call-out to Shalini for supplying insight and perspective during the development of the story, setting, and character arcs. I am indebted to her for countless conversations helping me to fine-tune every aspect of this tale. Shalini went above and beyond to find as much time as I needed, and I'm humbled at how generous this woman has been. Thank you.

I am also beholden to the talented author, Didi Oviatt, who has become a close friend in the last year. So close that we have recently finished co-writing a book that will release in 2021. While editing Hiding Cracked Glass, I asked Didi if she would read a draft and point out all the areas that needed more emotion and pop. Didi very quickly turned around her thoughts on twelve scenes and provided valuable suggestions—that's when I knew our partnership as authors on other projects was going to be a phenomenal experience. Thank you so very much.

There were also several amazing members of the team who volunteered to read an early draft of the book. These amazing nine readers and friends found most of my proofreading misses, grammar mistakes, and awkward phrases. I couldn't have completed this wonderful story without Misty, Nicole, Anne, Laura, Lisa, Anne, Mary, Valerie, and Nina. A major thanks to them for encouraging me to be stronger in my word choice and providing several pages of suggestions to convert good language into fantastic language. I'm grateful for their kindness and big-heartedness to play such an integral role in catching the things my eyes and mind completely overlook.

Thank you to Next Chapter for publishing Hiding Cracked Glass and paving the road for additional books to come. Their support and focus on my novels in the past three years has been a key reason I'm able to keep on writing more. I look forward to our continued partnership.

Perceptions of Glass – A Contemporary Fiction Family Drama Series

My debut novel, Watching Glass Shatter, was published on October 8th, 2017. After its successful release, I committed to writing a sequel. Once the Braxton Campus Mysteries grew more popular, this sequel suddenly took a bit longer to write. As I thought of title options for the book, two clear choices stood firm. In the end, I chose one of them as the name of the series: Perceptions of Glass. The second book in this series, which will be published on the third anniversary of the debut, October 8th, 2020, is called Hiding Cracked Glass.

I recommend reading Watching Glass Shatter before you devour Hiding Cracked Glass. While it isn't necessary, as I provide a summary of the key events in the first chapter of this second book, you will grow to love the characters more if you've read the books in order. Both revolve around Benjamin and Olivia Glass, Olivia's sister Diane, and the five sons, Teddy, Matt, Caleb, Zach, and Ethan. In Watching Glass Shatter, a secret letter is revealed during Ben's will… it's no spoiler that the book opens with his death. In Hiding Cracked Glass, which takes place several months after the end of the first book, a courier delivers a new secret letter. And this time, it is unclear to whom it belongs.

It's shocking to realize this is my ninth novel in three years… that said, I hope you enjoy your extended journey with the Glass family. You never know… there might just be more stories to tell with these amazing people, so stay alert for various treasures buried along the meandering path in Hiding Cracked Glass.

Chapter 1 – 10:00 to 11:00 AM

Memories of a forty-year marriage undoubtedly pale in comparison to the visceral experience of loving sand supporting another human being throughout an entire lifetime. Awakening to the familiar rhythm of a husband's beating heart as her head rests gently on his rising chest is steadfast and comforting. Clutching a pillow with an unrelenting grip because it contains the faintest hint of his woodsy scent becomes a feeble consolation prize. Death in all its glory knocks the strongest to their knees, naked and raw, in search of a tangible identity, especially once accepting widowhood is the most recognizable facet of her remaining years. It is Destiny who ensures these hidden truths will trigger stumbles in our finale.

Shoulder-length wisps of striking gray hair scattered across Olivia's rosy cheeks as a serpentine breeze hugged the curves of the cemetery's solemn pathways. Her lazuline-blue eyes sparkled from the sunlight blasting through a gathering of thick, frost-covered oak trees. Its dense canopy temporarily comforted and sheltered Olivia from the outside world. She sat perched against a mossy gravestone, a determined hand tracing the etched inscription of her late husband's name.

Benjamin Glass: Husband, Father & Friend. 1947 – 2017

A little over eight months had passed since Ben's fatal accident, yet the memory of audibly witnessing his car's collision with the impenetrable steel of a Connecticut overpass struck far more primal than any pain her husband endured during the same event. At least Olivia believed so. The police and ambulance crew had assured her that Ben and his driver died instantaneously. She replayed the incident in her mind daily, pondering whether Ben suffered any last-minute regrets or relived fond memories as life slipped from his body into the dark ether surrounding them. Olivia had come to believe that loved ones lingered behind only to suffer an indulgent exacerbation of grief and nostalgia.

Unrepentant February winds continued to flog the surrounding tombstones. Though startling and chilly, it refreshed and awakened Olivia. When a limb snapped from a stalwart evergreen several rows away, a surprising comfort settled inside her as though she were no longer alone. “Are you trying to console me, Ben? I miss you more each day, my darling.” She imagined her late husband hovering nearby, conveying his concurrence with all her major life decisions since his death.

Immediately upon Ben's passing, Olivia had channeled every waking moment toward reminiscing about their life together, repeating and overenunciating his full name, Benjamin William Glass, to all five adult sons in the hope it would keep his memory alive. Not just floating in their minds but inside the loneliness of their family home. Their unremarkable yet intimate town where history always triumphed. The dewy air they unconsciously breathed and smelled while the rest of the world prospered without him. Although the remembrances reinforced Olivia's confidence and composure, sometimes they crippled her ability to visualize a future without Ben.

During the reading of her late husband's will, a deeper layer of darkness unexpectedly descended upon Olivia—a secret revelation Ben left behind that nearly destroyed the family. Ben had unleashed two explosive letters in his attorney's care years ago, inadvertently playing Russian Roulette with the Glass family's bonds—emotional and blood. Few knew of their existence or the damage they could incite had those troubling facts fallen into idle hands. Olivia morphed into an aging matriarch ravaged by secrets, loss of faith, and a desire to hide from everyone. She concealed the newly discovered information for months until pressed into obligatory action. Not only had she lost a treasured partner, battled waterfalls of tears that left her body brittle and dehydrated, and clung to a sense of hope for at best a tolerable future, but the Eternal Creator beseeched the widow to offer penance beyond Ben. Destiny craved more. Someone else to be sacrificed because of Olivia's past failure to become the mother she'd always yearned to be.

Olivia considered sharing Ben's confession with their children. She wanted to tell them that she'd given birth to a baby who died minutes after greeting the world sans a single cry or laugh, offering only a handful of insufficient breaths. That Ben switched the infant with another, one whose mother wanted to secure a loving home for her son because she had lost the father and couldn't care for a child on her own. But Ben had never even told his own wife. And now, in his death, he challenged her to bring the truth full circle. Unfortunately, Destiny intervened and insisted Olivia reevaluate such instincts.

Ben's two letters, a pure but painful deceit, changed every trajectory of Olivia's future life. One letter was hers. The other Ethan's. Ethan was the boy who'd been switched at birth. Only Ethan never received his copy of the letter. Destiny delivered her final blow to Olivia by demanding Ethan's return to her intimate fold. Ethan would be the price Olivia paid for her mistakes. When Ethan informed his mother that he only had months to live, she refused to eviscerate his remaining days and hours with the truth. Olivia begged for mercy, citing alternative ways to make her suffer and to ameliorate her errors, all the while remembering the harsh realities of life.

Derelict addicts survived intentional overdosing. Vicious murderers avoided prison death sentences. Innocent souls frequently perished young. It was a fact, not an observation. All too often the case for darkness made its presence known in the world encompassing Olivia's existence. The bad outweighed the good, and the best hope one could cling to involved staying slightly ahead of Destiny's tormenting game. Life was rarely fair to those who had earned a reprieve or a temporary moment of tranquility.

Before he passed away inside the Glass family home, Olivia tracked down and granted Rowena Hector the opportunity—no, the privilege—of meeting the son she'd given up. Rowena, a more selfless mother in those few moments than Olivia had been during her entire lifetime, agreed to conceal the secret. Olivia saved her letter from Ben as a keepsake to remind her of the past when she was egocentric, aloof, and neglectful. All those behavioral tendencies had begun decreasing as the tumors riddled Ethan's body into a mere shadow of its former glory. Ethan tragically left the world at twenty-three-years-old, clueless that he was not the biological son of Benjamin and Olivia Glass. His last excruciating gasps for air, like the only breaths of Olivia's infant who died, marked a life-changing event.

Confident a lesson was buried somewhere in the messaging, Olivia accepted blame for all the drama and tragedy affecting her family. Throughout the preceding years, she'd transitioned into someone she never intended to be, and only via the senseless catastrophe had she summoned the courage to alter the course of her future. Last fall, Olivia buoyed her surviving sons when they each faced and conquered significant problems in their own lives. She'd finally put her children first. Once confident they navigated the complex road to recovery, she committed to addressing her own healing process.

“I've learned surprising facts about myself in the last few months. Family means everything to me now, Ben,” stated Olivia, her voice searching for the proper balance between confidence and wishful thinking.

During her recovery, Olivia's sister functioned as a prodigious and necessary limb, an extension of a broken soul clawing its way into the remaining corporeal bond between two siblings who couldn't be more different. Diane had always admired and loved Olivia—never once jealous of all the blessings bestowed upon her sister—and bolstered the unexpected widow during the chasm opening upon Ethan's death. Olivia and Diane embarked on an extended vacation to Italy to experience La Dolce Vita, the sweet life. A second honeymoon she and Ben had hoped to take that summer, rendered impossible once the accident interfered in what should have been their jubilant golden years. While on the trip, Olivia relied on Diane for everything, and they eagerly embraced the intoxicating culture, divine beauty, and mouthwatering food of a country so magnificent, it effortlessly lifted their spirits.

Yesterday, she arrived home from Europe and moved back into the Glass family estate. She would temporarily occupy her old family home, the one she'd entrusted to her surviving sons before leaving the country. After the initial shock of stepping foot into the house she and Ben had built, Olivia struggled to summon the strength to hold her head high. It instead hung low and waffled between rage and relief. Accepting Ethan's and Ben's deaths would demand a much lengthier commitment than she anticipated.

“I'm proud of them, Ben. All our boys are making better decisions.” Flurries anxiously descended at her sides, trapping Olivia in her very own picturesque snow globe. Fear of someone absentmindedly shaking the tenuous symbol, whirling her life upside down for a moment's pleasure, still lurked furiously in her bones. Olivia interpreted the wet snow as Ben's tears of happiness, for if she thought they were anything else, the delicate balance she maintained on a fragile existence would crumble into oblivion.

She'd escaped that blustery morning to visit Ethan's and Ben's graves for the first time in months. No one knew she'd disappeared shortly after dawn for a cathartic walk around the neighborhood. Once ready, she reserved an Uber, requesting a drop-off and return pickup one hour later. An hour that had already passed, though it felt like seconds since her wobbly feet initially stepped on the frozen ground and instinctively walked toward the final resting places of her husband and son.

“They have a new maid, Ben. Our housekeeper retired when I left. It's best the boys find their own help. We all need a fresh start.” Olivia brushed away persistent snowflakes from congregating atop the headstone, narrowing her eyes to minimize the sentimentality overwhelming her emotions. “I don't like her very much. She's… too friendly, too eager.”

Olivia had once attended law school and worked side by side with Ben before retiring from the firm to raise their five sons. When the boys were old enough, she involved herself in countless charities and organizations, which meant the Glass family home required more than just a nanny. After several failed attempts to handle it all on her own, she hired a maid who understood her role in the household—neither to be seen nor heard. While that's what Olivia's parents had always advised about their own children, Olivia felt it more aptly applied to staff. For years, she was deemed cold and shrewd toward others, but Ben's and Ethan's deaths had shattered the previous iteration of Olivia Glass. Upon reassembly, she should've emerged a changed woman. What was taking so long?

Not that she didn't trust the new maid's cleaning abilities or felt uncomfortable by another woman's presence in the last place she'd seen Ben alive. It was that the girl frivolously hummed and sang, played with the children in all the wrong rooms, and flitted about the home as if she owned it. Olivia warned herself not to behave as snobby or persnickety as she'd once been. Perhaps she struggled with adjusting to change now that she no longer headed up the household. Maybe the maid was simply too young and inexperienced but would grow into her role. Nonetheless, Olivia kept her mouth shut the previous day, promising not to get involved. Her son's wife, Margaret, had hired Pilar, and if Pilar proved to be an unreliable housekeeper, Margaret would be the one to reprimand and fire her. Managing and disciplining people taught a woman how to mature gracefully into the leader she was destined to be. Olivia also assured herself that exhaustion from the flight home could've led to misjudging the situation. Age made certain people ornery and blind. It educated and reformed others, like Olivia, under normal circumstances. But nothing was typical for her anymore.

Amid the desolate cemetery's shrub-lined passageway, the Uber driver nonchalantly waved to notify his fare of his arrival. Olivia held up her hand to request another five minutes, suddenly distracted by a new mourner admiring various marble statues and ornate benches on the opposite side of her section. Olivia thought the person's frame and stance looked familiar, but she couldn't capture a clear angle of his or her face. Before she knew it, the figure disappeared behind a hearty grove of rhododendron bushes. Had she imagined the individual, or was he or she truly watching her?

Although she'd visited Ethan's grave earlier, Olivia wanted one last goodbye before leaving Ben's plot—her future plot, where she'd reunite with her husband for all eternity. In the distant future, as her life was far from over, per her most recently putative opinion. Navigating through three rows of brittle yellow-brown grass that crackled as she firmly trounced on its decaying life, Olivia arrived at Ethan's permanent resting place.

Two manicured mugo pines adorned either side of the immaculate headstone—nothing was too good for her baby who would never be granted the privilege of fathering a child of his own. Upon reliving his death all over again, a piercing stab of torment ricocheted inside Olivia's chest as if an overloaded electrical system had shocked her core mercilessly. She covered her lips to prevent a primal cry from escaping, but nothing could contain the heartbreak and utter sense of loss that had broken her. To die at the beginning of his career in medical school as a newlywed to a beautiful college sweetheart, magnified all that was wrong in the world.

When doctors diagnosed Ethan, his girlfriend had just graduated from Boston University and accepted her first professional job. He followed through with his plans to propose to Emma, keen to attain a myriad of goals before Death plucked him from her life. Rather than run from a fiancé being issued a death sentence, Emma dove headfirst into caring for Ethan. She delayed the start of her new position as the choral director at a private school in Boston and moved into the Glass family home in Brandywine, Connecticut. Emma nursed her new husband morning, noon, and night, taking turns with Olivia and Diane during the last two weeks of Ethan's life. She held his hand as he passed to the afterlife early one October evening under a crimson and lavender sky. Emma likened the lost tension in his final grip to releasing one's childhood into the vaporous air, accepting that a blind belief in miracles was humankind's most fatal mistake.

After the funeral and spending a few weeks with her in-laws, Emma returned to Boston to surrender the apartment she and Ethan shared, declaring a gaping inability to live there any longer. She hinted to Olivia that memories of the past, before learning of his disease, were too difficult to handle once seeing what he'd been reduced to in the end. They agreed to disagree regarding Emma's best next steps, especially with Olivia's intention to leave on her trip. She surmised Emma was too shocked and naïve to accept Ethan's death, supposing her daughter-in-law had run off to recover from her trauma in private. Once Emma had settled into her new position in January, she regrettably began avoiding the Glass family. As far as Olivia understood, Emma had spoken with no one else since the holidays. Olivia attempted to contact Emma from Italy, but the voicemails were never returned.

“Your wife and I need to connect, Ethan. She grieves as much as I do. Widows must support one another. I have a duty to protect her from a life of solitude and depression.” Olivia tapped the top of his headstone twice, once for the past and once for the future—always a future with her son, even if it was a connection no one else understood.

With a heavy heart and shallow breath, she recalled the day Ethan skinned his knee on their front patio while trying to skip rope faster than his brothers. Deflated by the thought of never again drying his tears or fixing his booboos, Olivia shrank inside herself and concentrated on happier memories. Ethan seemed to speak to her from beyond his grave, soothing her apprehensions and disillusions. She often sensed his presence, as if he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder with his trademark goofy smile plastered on his face. I miss you, Mom… You were always good to me. Even then, I forgive you for all that you've done.

As Olivia shuffled to the main pathway, she unsuccessfully searched for the stranger who'd been watching her. Bewildered, she instead reflected on the party her family would throw that evening—the first time the entire Glass clan assembled since Ethan's funeral three months earlier. Olivia and Diane had vacationed in Italy. Theodore and Sarah had reconciled after her one-night stand with his brother, Zachary. After Matthew had returned home from the rehabilitation facility, he and Margaret prepared for their newest child's arrival. Caleb and Jake had become parents to an adopted son in Maine. Zachary had won custody of his daughter, Anastasia, from his ex-girlfriend. Although Ethan had died, Emma promised to visit the Glass family whenever she could.

The promises people made during their initial bereavement period were often forgotten, cast off as nonsensical or whimsically trivial. Would Emma attend Olivia's grand birthday celebration tonight or snap the most brittle limb from the family tree? Time had become so precious to Olivia. Nine months ensured a mother's readiness to give birth to her child. Could nine months also convince a widow to transition beyond her husband's untimely death, assuming she allowed herself to conquer the essential obstacles?

The melancholy matriarch of the Glass family unlocked her phone and smiled at a photo of her and Diane from their recent trip. What's going on with you lately, sister? Diane had behaved strangely the last few days, even seemed nervous about their return home. Determining it had something to do with a surprise for the upcoming birthday party, Olivia sank into the backseat of the Uber and sighed heavily. She slipped the phone into the outer pouch of her purse and rummaged through its inside pockets in search of Ben's secret letter. She'd stored it inside her handbag for safekeeping before leaving Rome's Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino airport the previous day, at least she'd thought she had. After hurriedly dumping the contents on the leather seat, Olivia whispered in a tremulous voice, “Where could it have gone?”

* * *

Chasing three young girls in a feverish game of hide and seek, Pilar raced through the center hallway, passing Ben's former personal study. Still decorated with an air of old-world allure, historic splendor, and treasured photos—she'd been asked not to touch anything. On the left, a sprawling seating area congregated around a magnificent stone fireplace under twelve-foot cathedral-domed ceilings. On the right stood an inspirational oak desk abutting a set of grand bay windows and boasting an antique Tiffany lamp.

Melanie and Melissa were Matt's two oldest daughters, at five and three respectively, and Anastasia was Zach's five-year-old girl. Melinda, Matt's one-year-old daughter, napped upstairs with her mother and the new baby, Madison, who had arrived only four days ago. Matthew and Margaret insisted on sticking to the fanciful theme of all their children's names beginning with the letter M. Pilar found it both amusing and terribly Waspy, but she dared not express her opinion.

Anastasia ducked under a vintage pewter and smoked glass table in the octagonal entrance hall, motioning to her cousins to follow her into the secret hiding spot. “She won't find us here!” Wild and unruly red curls bounced effortlessly against her shoulders as she crouched low to the ground with a precocious smile.

“You're all too fast for me!” Pilar crooned as she rounded the corner into the foyer, halting to catch her breath near the front door. “I think it's time you had a morning snack, girls. I need a break.”

Once Olivia had turned over all her charity obligations to her daughter-in-law and departed for Italy, Margaret knew she needed live-in help. A modern woman with more organizational skills than most, she resisted the solution at first. A stranger in her house, someone else giving orders to her children was frightening and concerning. How could she surrender her control, one of the only ways she felt alive and strong enough to conquer the world? But Margaret acquiesced when she recognized the benefits additional help might bring: a solid night's sleep, uninterrupted quiet time for herself on occasion, and clean sheets she didn't have to strip from the bed and wash every week. After interviewing and hiring a nanny for Madison's arrival, she and Matt also offered the role of temporary housekeeper to Pilar. Using the money her husband had inherited from Ben, Margaret hoped both women could keep the house in order while the Glass family recovered from the previous year's invasive ordeals.

Pilar, who turned twenty-five the previous month, had only worked at the Glass estate since the week before Christmas. She was one of three women the agency sent over, and Margaret advised Pilar they'd chosen her against better judgment. Although the other two candidates offered more experience, Margaret shared concerns that both would tire of all the young children in the house and exit the job too hastily. At least that's what she'd informed Olivia, who stubbornly insisted someone with decades of qualifications was the correct hire, in an attempt to justify the decision.

Melanie and Melissa, radiant glee emanating from their pudgy cheeks and alert eyes, screeched in unison. Anastasia, the more reserved and analytical of the cousins, sluggishly crept across the braided rug and shrugged at Pilar. “If you say so. I was having so much fun.”

Pilar affectionately cupped Anastasia's wrist, chuckling at the young girl's response. Anastasia's freckled cream skin contrasted Pilar's mocha-infused tones, a perfect artisanal cappuccino symbiosis of art in the making. Although Margaret had suggested a proper maid's outfit during the interview, Matt interceded and permitted Pilar to wear whatever she felt was most suitable for her role. Having just been released from the rehabilitation center, where he'd kicked a nasty habit of balancing uppers and downers to deal with his anxiety issues over money, Matt desired less formality and more creativity in his surroundings. Pilar's dark, low-rise jeans and long-sleeve Henley fully covered her body, but they flaunted each of her dangerous curves. Sable hair and high cheekbones added a feminine, exotic charm, but Italian ancestry was all she could claim.

“Remember. It's your grandma's big birthday party this evening,” Pilar announced, instructing the children to follow her into the kitchen.

Once everyone settled at the nook, Pilar divvied up the juice boxes to all three girls. Anastasia preferred strawberry while Matt's girls requested grape juice. Both kinds were all-natural and contained no extra sugar, per Margaret's endless file of detailed instructions. While the girls devoured three peanut butter crackers and a handful of carrot sticks, Pilar studied a to-do list to confirm her impending chores. The day churned much more quickly than she expected, and with the party that evening, everything had to be in proper order before Olivia Glass returned home.

Pilar wasn't fond of the woman, especially after Olivia scanned her from head to toe in petulant judgment the previous day. When Olivia traced a finger along the fireplace mantle and blew dust into the air, Pilar realized things would change drastically in the Glass home. She'd heard various stories while Olivia was away and researched the family many times before accepting the job. Experiencing Olivia Glass differed from hearing about Olivia Glass through the perception of a stranger or one who claimed to know her well.

“I need to load some towels in the dryer. Please stay in the kitchen until I get back here, okay? You're in charge, Anastasia.” Pilar knew Anastasia was the most responsible of the group, even though Melanie was a few months older. When the girls nodded like a trio of wide-eyed porcelain dolls, Pilar descended to the basement to swap the last load of laundry.

As soon as Pilar disappeared, the girls devoured their snacks and deposited their plates on the counter near the sink. They weren't allowed to arrange them in the dishwasher without adult supervision, in fear they'd inadvertently break something while trying to fit each item between the metal prongs. Anastasia hadn't finished all her juice, so she carried it with her as they approached the main hallway. A few drops of red liquid oozed out of the straw and coated the girl's sticky fingers.

As Melanie tut-tutted, her eyes bugged out like a doe caught in headlights. She prevented her younger sister, Melissa, from following Anastasia. “Pilar told us not to leave the kitchen. What are you doing?”

“We can sit on the stairs and wait for her, that's all!” Anastasia pushed through the swinging kitchen door, unable to hold it for her cousins because the juice dripped into her hands. “Yuck!”

“I guess.”

All three girls sneaked into the foyer just in time to hear a commotion outside the door. “You check on it,” Anastasia directed at her cousin, frowning at her messy hands.

“We're not supposed to talk to strangers,” Melanie nervously stuttered, cocking her head aside.

“But maybe it's a new toy for us to play with?” Anastasia suggested as the younger girl, Melissa, strutted to the front door and turned the knob with fearless curiosity.

“No, I don't want to get in trouble,” cautioned Melanie, but it was too late.

Straining the limits of his sloppy uniform's brown fabric, a portly visitor dawdled on the porch, breathing heavily and squinting from the sun's direct glare. “Hello, children. Is there an adult home? I have a letter for someone in the Glass family.”

Anastasia placed her juice box on the nearby table, unaware it dripped strawberry liquid on the surface. “Pilar is downstairs. She's our maid. I mean our friend. My daddy is working today. Aunt Margaret is upstairs with the baby. Everyone's busy. At least that's what they always tell us.”

The deliveryman perused his watch in haste. “I don't have a lot of time. Could you give this to Pilar—improperly pronouncing it Pilluh—or another adult in the house? Tell them it's important. There's a name on the envelope. That's who it belongs to, okay?” He eyed the girls quizzically, evaluating whether he should trust them to deliver the parcel. The overworked and underappreciated man had other stops to make and had already gotten a late start to his day. Upon deciding they would follow his instructions, he fiddled with his scanning device and marked the item received.

Melanie rushed to the door and yanked Melissa back. “Yeah, okay. We need to go.” After she grabbed the letter from his hand, her eyes zeroed in on the juice box on the table. Melanie shut the front door and yelled to Anastasia in a silly voice, “It's leaking everywhere!”

Anastasia snatched the envelope from her cousin and placed it on the table as a buffer, then put the juice box on top of it. “All better. I hear Pilar coming back. Let's play hide and seek again. Maybe she won't find us this time!”

Melanie and Melissa eyed one another, giggling in innocent delight and speaking their own secret language. Melanie then said, “Hide in the library! She'll never find us.”

As all three girls trod up the stairs, the juice box dribbled onto the envelope. Four viscous drops landed directly on the first name of the person to whom the letter was addressed.

Having finished transferring the laundry, Pilar strolled into the foyer. “Was someone at the door? Where are you girls?” She wandered across the hall into the study but couldn't find them. As she approached the vintage table, she heard a distant snicker from the second floor and knew where they had gone. “You're in trouble. If I find you again, you're gonna help me clean for the party tonight.”

Pilar raced up the steps to collect the kids, unaware there had been a deliveryman at the house or an envelope idling on the foyer table. An envelope whose recipient was no longer known because the juice had blurred the writing so badly, any name other than Glass was sadly indecipherable.

* * *

Elsewhere, someone startled when a nearby phone vibrated and played a few bars of haunting organ music. A jittery hand placed a steaming cup of coffee on a silver tray, retrieved the device, and scrolled to the next message. Upon learning the package had been delivered, the individual cackled at great length and noted assuredly, “You deserve every bit of my revenge. Only one of us will win this battle, and in the end, you'll beg for mercy. Once a brittle and feeble glass begins to crack, it can never be repaired again.”

Chapter 2 – 11:00 AM to 12:00 PM (Olivia)

“Happy Birthday, Olivia,” Diane bellowed as her sister joined their cozy table in a delightfully bespoke Italian restaurant on Brandywine's west side. “You left so early this morning I couldn't give you my card.” Diane, two years younger than Olivia, grasped the edge of the table to balance her aging frame as she stood and presented a gift to her sibling. Her wobbly, liver-spotted hands dropped the card into Olivia's, then she moaned loudly, “Don't neglect me now, body!” Years of arduous work, a failed marriage, and an unfulfilled desire to have children had imprinted permanent worry lines on every inch of her round face.

“You shouldn't have,” replied Olivia, her thin lips curling in amusement on her patrician countenance. After hugging Diane and offloading her coat to the hostess, she selected the hard, straight-backed chair across from her sister. “But I'm glad you did.” Olivia ordered two glasses of Prosecco, a dish of garbanzo beans drizzled with olive oil and red chili flakes, and several wedges of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

“It's like we never left Italy.” Diane watched as Olivia slit open the red envelope, her sister's favorite color, and bounced on the bench's plush cushioned seat. “Nothing big, just a memento of our trip.” Diane had recently trimmed her long braids, abandoning the murky gray-brown colors she usually ignored. Now, she kept her alabaster white and thinning hair in a shorter style, often adorned with clips or barrettes, in an effort to appear a tad younger and more fun, should she ever choose to date again.

La Villetta, the most savory and charming of all the local eateries, reminded the sisters of the cozy little villas they'd visited during their trip. A bellissima gem hidden beyond a sizable copse of birch trees, with less than twenty checkered tables snugly pressed against the patterned walls, elegantly curtained windows, and the immensity of everyone's personalities, it echoed the warm and inviting kitchen of an authentic Italian home. The owner, a personal friend of the Glass family, treated them like royalty, remembering everyone's names and special days. Diane admitted she knew that's where Olivia would relish spending time before facing the family and accepting the momentous occasion of her sixty-eighth birthday.

Olivia read the inscription on the card, smiling at the vibrant photo of them taken atop the breathtaking Terrace of Infinity in Villa Cimbrone, Ravello. The most scenic of all the panoramic views, often called the mountain pearl, resembled a Garden of Eden on Earth where the pleasures of life existed for only those present in that moment of bliss. She recalled their trip to the famous plateau, the day when Diane had suspiciously escaped for an early return to the Hotel Marmorata.

“Thank you. I will always cherish our time together.” Olivia gently brushed her hand over Diane's, pausing while the server dropped off their drinks and an amuse-bouche. She clinked her flute to Diane's and toasted to their most recent experiences. “So… have you heard from him?”

Diane unexpectedly swallowed a large bite, and her cheeks reddened at Olivia's inquiry. Any response, caught in the base of a newly parched and burning throat, stumbled to appear initially. “I… I'm not sure what you're talking about.” Diane expanded the menu as a blockade to prevent Olivia's penetrating eyes from singeing her exterior.

“You could recite that menu from memory in both English and Italian. Put it down and answer my question.” Olivia pressed a firm hand against its backside until Diane's eyes peered over the top, blinking and darting back and forth to the tablecloth.

Upon returning to the Hotel Marmorata post an afternoon of sightseeing weeks ago, Olivia craved one of their signature luxurious cocktails. As she strolled through the lobby, Diane's voice carried across the damp and perfumed air. Olivia hid behind a tall and leafy lemon tree, eavesdropping on her sister's conversation with a distinguished gentleman. Diane appeared to be laughing, almost flirting with the man seated next to her. Olivia had never seen her sibling smile so wide, her eyes glimmering from the candlelight lining the bar's smooth veneer surface. Though Olivia had arrived too late to understand his intentions, she watched Diane accept a napkin from him and discreetly stuff it in her pocket. That evening before they went to sleep, Olivia rifled through her sister's coat and learned the man's name and phone number. Diane later invented several errands and unplanned side trips during their last three weeks in Italy, and Olivia was certain they were excuses to meet with the dark and mysterious charmer named Nate.

“I'd rather not. Isn't today about you? It's your birthday, after all.” Diane released the menu onto the table and scooped a wedge of pungent parmesan between her salivating lips.

“Nate, I presume? Have you two continued exploring the realm of transatlantic possibilities since we've returned home?” Olivia's smug expression looked more natural than coaxed, though it often appeared to be intentionally doled out in the most opportune of times.

Diane was eagerly awaiting her final divorce papers. After thirty years of marriage, she'd informed her husband, a lifelong car mechanic and recent owner of a profitless service station, that she no longer wanted to be married to an insolent aggressor. Though George had never physically abused her, his verbal lashings and passive-aggressive tendencies finally forced her to present the man with his walking papers. For some reason, George had held up the final decree and Diane avoided discussing the topic. Olivia never learned why but had ceased pressuring Diane in the preceding weeks, hoping her naïve sibling would volunteer the information once she was ready.

“How do you know about him?” Diane tensed against the back of the bench, equally shocked and worried over the direction of the conversation. “Nate and I are… were… friends, that's all.”

Olivia sipped more Prosecco before insisting Diane tell her the truth. Given Olivia's overpowering personality and George's demonstrative ways, Diane had consistently relinquished her own identity throughout most of her life. Olivia firmly believed that marriages were complicated, and husbands fell into two buckets. Some men, like George, were the wrong choice. They forced their wives to wait on them hand and foot. Dinner promptly at six every night. A house must be sterile and clean each week. Lovemaking once per month and only if George initiated it. No children because they only sullied people's lives. In unions on par with George and Diane's, the wife's blessings manifested only when the husband died. Diane had never been a lucky woman, not once in her life, and she'd graciously accepted such an unforgiving lot. Until Ben's death, when something changed in her, and she began to prioritize her own needs first. Diane had finally decided to sell the house she and George lived in, then use the profits to buy something new without him. In the meantime, she'd kicked him out while the divorce was in process.

Other men, like Benjamin William Glass, were the right choice but made dreadful decisions. Olivia had loved Ben since the moment they met at the opera, yet it took months to forgive him for switching babies in the hospital. Ultimately, despite all the lies, Ben had given her a gift—the temporary reward of twenty-three years with Ethan. Nothing would ever erase their time together. Ben's mistake had led to Olivia living the blessed life of a mother to a fifth son, one that lasted many decades. Until Ben's death, when the lives of the entire Glass family shattered, and all Olivia could do was watch it disintegrate piece by piece, nicking her limb by limb.

Once the waitress captured their orders and sauntered away, Olivia pressed further. “You deserve happiness. Why hasn't George agreed to the divorce? Can I do anything to help?”

Diane begged to change the conversation's topic. “Another day, we can discuss it. We only just returned home, and I'd rather enjoy my afternoon. Nate was a wonderful man, but he was just a passing fancy. Please leave it at that for now.” She gulped a generous portion of Prosecco and tore a slice of bread from the basket. Drenching it in olive oil, salt, and balsamic vinegar was her only prolonged defense to limit the discussion.

Olivia reluctantly nodded. She recognized her sister's growing distress, including Diane's inability to divulge the source of the anxiety or pain consuming her thoughts. Olivia would permit the conversation to pass, focusing instead on her birthday, and resume it the following morning. Ben's death had taught her never to ignore an issue with someone you loved. Delaying the confrontation, altering routes to elicit the truth, or applying pressure through other means was necessary to resolve the situation. Another twenty-four hours would cause little harm. Timing was everything, and Olivia would obtain the answers she sought.

“How do you expect this evening's festivities to go?” Olivia checked her watch to confirm the time. Less than six hours before all her sons would be home again for a celebratory dinner and drinks.

“Matt and Margaret seemed exhausted last night. I can hardly believe they wanted to throw this party for you.” Diane unlocked her phone and clicked on the photo app, sharing the newest picture of baby Madison, who'd arrived a few days earlier than expected.

Diane and Olivia had timed their trip to return home before Olivia's newest grandchildren would be born. When Margaret went into unexpected labor, Olivia couldn't secure an earlier flight. They instead flew home and met Madison when she was three days old. Teddy's wife, Sarah, was also due this week, adding another new baby to the family. Olivia had sensed something was wrong with her eldest son, yet none of her other boys expressed any concerns about him.

“I tried to reason with Margaret. She assured me the nanny would look after Madison, and Pilar agreed to help with the kids and plan the party.” Olivia and Margaret had grown closer after Olivia confronted her daughter-in-law about all the unnecessary burdens she'd previously placed on her husband. In the past, Matt had climbed mountains to keep up with his wife's spending on their home renovations and children's daycare and future education. When Matt turned to pills as his relief and developed a nasty addiction, Olivia stepped in to redirect the trajectory of a death sentence bound to happen.

“Margaret is calmer than last fall. Remember her nutty panic? I think being away from you might've relaxed her,” Diane teased. She'd always been the warm, generous aunt to the five Glass boys, in opposition to their frosty, more indifferent mother, Olivia.

“You're hilarious. We worked out our differences. Margaret and I no longer quarrel over the insignificant things.” Olivia wanted to believe she'd convinced her daughter-in-law how to properly care for a husband like Matt, but she was hardly home long enough to verify her advice had done its job effectively.

“Have you heard anything from Sarah? She must be due any day now,” asked Diane.

Olivia gently shook her head. “Sarah's confined to bed rest with no visitors. Theodore told Margaret weeks ago that the doctors were worried about Sarah's health.” Olivia hadn't heard much from her son. Every time she'd checked in from Italy, he declared all was fine and that he had no news to report. Knowing Sarah was in her early forties, the pregnancy was ripe with risk. Olivia was also grateful the baby turned out to be Theodore's and not Zachary's. What a foolish plan Sarah had concocted to circumvent Theodore's low sperm count. In the end, Theodore had impregnated his wife, and Sarah's sexual encounter with his brother had evaporated before anyone else became privy to the news.

For a fleeting moment, Olivia worried that her son had regressed to his former self. For most of his life, Teddy had absorbed the incessant pressure to follow in Ben's footsteps and run the family law firm once his father retired. After Ben died, Teddy finally spoke out, sharing his secret desire to become a painter. The Glass family sold their majority interest in the law firm to the remaining partners and accepted the unknown future placed before them. Teddy's facial tics and nervous twitches had disappeared, but his lack of communication during Olivia's lengthy trip to Italy stirred old concerns.

“We can ask Teddy tonight. I'm sure Sarah won't make it, but Teddy will put in an appearance for his mother's birthday.” Diane rested her fork and knife on the plate, then thanked the busboy when he cleared the appetizers from the table. “Caleb is driving down today, right?”

“Yes. He and Jake and the baby should arrive shortly. I'm so proud of the man he's become.” Olivia reflected on the progress between them since learning the previous fall he was gay, married to a man, and adopting a child. He'd moved to Maine a decade earlier, avoiding his family except for major holidays and important family events. Even then, he'd conveniently forgotten to tell them about his husband, Jake. Ben's funeral had brought them together, lifting the veil of darkness over his seclusion.

“Of all the boys, you and Caleb patched your relationship most successfully.” Diane reminded her sister of the weekly calls Caleb and his mother shared while Olivia was in Italy. Between video chats to track the baby's growth and the home renovation to build a nursery, Olivia had savored being side by side with them at every step.

“Caleb is the happiest these days, true. His life is complete, content, where he's always wanted to be.” Olivia was thrilled and comforted when all the secrets were brought to light. In all her relationships with her sons, a nasty truth festered under the surface, threatening to destroy any minuscule connection. One by one, as her visits with each son occurred, she'd rebuilt the bond and guided them in the proper direction. Now she needed to figure out what remained in her own future.

“Zach's close to achieving his goals too. Anastasia is a smart little girl, and she loves her new school. Your rebellious son has turned his life around.” Diane had a soft spot for Zach, the renegade of the family. While his parents had given up on him, Diane never strayed too far. She babysat his daughter when he had to work and offered advice to help him realize his lifestyle endangered his future.

“I'm shocked at how much he's forgiven me. Of all the boys, Zach never seemed to need his mother.” Olivia hadn't seen him on her return the prior day as he'd remained in New York City to promote an upcoming concert. He had moved into the family house the previous fall, agreeing to let Anastasia attend the same schools as her cousins. He spent a few days each week in New York and the rest of his time in Connecticut raising his daughter as a single father. Zach's ex-girlfriend, Katerina, had finally lost custody and backed off from interfering in her daughter's life.

“Has Emma been in touch since we returned?” Diane inquired, absentmindedly nibbling on her third slice of bread.

“I don't think she's planning to attend tonight. Margaret never heard from her, and Emma has been difficult to catch with the time difference.” Olivia thought Emma would have been ecstatic to return to the Glass house this weekend, a retreat to be closer to her husband who died weeks after they exchanged vows. “I suppose being around us might still be too much for her to handle. I wonder if she'll remarry in the distant future.”

Diane coughed loudly for an extended length of time, then sipped from her water glass before focusing on the waitress as she delivered their entrees. “Let's eat. We'll deal with whatever the evening brings us later. You deserve a memorable night, sister. For now, it's time to enjoy our meal.”