Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

interlopers in her kitchen. “Well, what are you all waiting for?”
    “
He
leaves first,” said Frank, pointing at Korsak.
    “Why should it be me?”
    “We’re
all
leaving, Ma,” said Jane. She took Korsak’s arm and pulled him toward the front door. “Frankie, you get Dad out of here.”
    “Not you, Jane,” said Angela. “You stay.”
    “But you just said—”
    “I want the
men
to leave. They’re the ones giving me this headache. I want you to stay, so we can talk.”
    “Take care of this, Janie,” said Frankie, and she couldn’t miss the threatening note in his voice. “Remember, we’re a
family
. That doesn’t change.”
    Sometimes to my regret, she thought as the men left the kitchen, trailing a cloud of hostility so thick she could almost smell it. She didn’t dare say a word, didn’t move a muscle, until she heard the front door shut, then the sound of three car engines simultaneously revvingup. Sighing with relief, she slid the block of kitchen knives back to its usual space on the counter and looked at her mother. Now, this was a strange turn of events. Frankie was the child Angela always seemed proudest of, her Marine Corps son who could do no wrong, even while he was tormenting his siblings.
    But today Angela hadn’t asked for Frankie, she’d asked for Jane, and now that they were alone together Jane took the time to study her mother. Angela’s face was still flushed from her outburst, and with that color in her cheeks, the fire in her eyes, she didn’t look like any man’s property. She looked like a woman who should be clutching a spear and a battleax, steam hissing from her nostrils. But as they heard the three cars drive away, that warrior seemed to wilt, leaving only a weary middle-aged woman who slumped into her chair and buried her head in her hands.
    “Mom?” said Jane.
    “All I wanted was another chance at love. Another chance to feel alive again.”
    “What do you mean, alive? You didn’t feel that way?”
    “I felt invisible, that’s what I felt. Every night, putting dinner in front of your father. Watching him suck it down without a single compliment. I thought that’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re married for thirty-five years. How was I supposed to know things could be different? I figured that was that. My kids are grown, I have a house with a nice backyard. Who am I to complain?”
    “I never knew you were unhappy, Mom.”
    “I wasn’t. I was just …” Angela shrugged. “Here. Breathing. You, you’re still a newlywed. You and Gabriel, you probably don’t know what I’m talking about, and I hope you never do. It’s a terrible feeling, to think the best years of your life are over. He made me feel that way.”
    “But you were so upset when he left.”
    “Of course I was upset! He left me for another woman!”
    “So … you didn’t want him. But you didn’t want her to get him, either.”
    “Why’s that so hard to understand?”
    Jane shrugged. “I guess I get it.”
    “And
she’s
the one who ended up being sorry. The bimbo.” Angela laughed, a loud, cynical cackle.
    “I think they’re both sorry. That’s why Dad wants to come home. I’m guessing it’s a little late for that?”
    Angela’s lip trembled, and she looked down at the table where her hands rested. Decades of cooking, of burns from hot grease and nicks from kitchen knives, had left battle scars on those hands. “I don’t know,” she murmured.
    “You just told me how unhappy you were.”
    “I was. Then Vince came along, and I felt like a new woman. A young woman. We did crazy things together, things I never dreamed I’d do, like shooting a gun. And skinny-dipping.”
    “TMI, Mom.”
Way
too much information.
    “He takes me dancing, Janie. Do you remember the last time your father took me dancing?”
    “No.”
    “Neither do I. That’s the point.”
    “Okay.” Jane sighed. “Then we’ll deal with this. It’s your decision, and whatever it is, I’ll back you up.” Even if it meant wearing a pink clown dress to the wedding.
    “That’s just it, Janie. I
can’t
decide.”
    “You just told me how happy Vince makes you.”
    “But Frankie said the magic word.
Family
.” Angela looked up with tormented eyes. “That means something. All those years together. Having you and your brothers. Your father and I, we have a
history
, and that’s something I can’t just walk away from.”
    “So
history
is more important than what makes you