The last time she was in his house she’d been so tightly strung. Nervous and off-kilter. She hadn’t expected Mary to be so pretty; she hadn’t wanted to butt in on his quasi-date with Serafine. She’d been worried about Matty. She just hadn’t gotten comfortable at all. But now, with Sebastian in the other room and nobody around but Matty, Via let her eyes take it all in.

It was a very warm space. Every wall was painted, all slate grays and a few accent walls of royal blue. There were countless picture frames, photos of Matty at every age, Seb in a few places. And a gorgeous blond woman who Via could only guess was Matty’s mom. Via made her way down the hallway toward the living room and paused to grin at a picture of a very young Seb and Tyler, not older than Matty, missing teeth and dirty, arms around each other’s shoulders.

The living room, with its plush couch and armchairs, had a big, colorful rug and a spray of toys that Matty had already hauled out of a big tin chest in the corner.

“You have a puzzle collection?”

“Yeah! I love puzzles. No, Crabby!” Matty attempted to box out his dog who was boisterously nuzzling at the boy’s hands. “Dad says I have to do them at the dinner table, though, or else the pieces end up mysteriously lost.”

Via grinned and took Crabby by the collar so that Matty could pass by unhindered. “Do you want a snack before dinner?”

It was only 4:30. She figured she had an hour before she had to start making dinner.

“Yeah.”

“Run that back, kid.” Sebastian’s voice came from over her shoulder and Matty froze in place, turning back to Via with a sheepish look on his face.

“Um. Yes, please, Miss DeRosa.”

She hid her smile. “You got it. Why don’t you get started on your puzzle and I’ll bring it to you, okay?”

He scampered into the dining room to start the puzzle, and she turned to Sebastian. Something went smooth and soft in her belly. He’d changed into jeans and a fresh T-shirt, and his face and hairline were damp from where he’d splashed water over them. He still looked like microwaved death, though.

“Sebastian, why don’t you go lie down?”

“I’m sick of my bedroom.” He took on an ornery, stubborn expression that was especially prevalent in elementary schools.

For the second time in as many minutes, Via hid her smile from a Dorner boy. “All right, well at least go and lie down on the living room couch.”

He looked for a second like he might argue with her, but it wasn’t long before he ambled into the other room.

Via kept an eye on Matty in the dining room as she slapped together some peanut butter crackers and a handful of grapes. “Matty,” she said in a warning tone, “does your dad let you climb all the way onto the table when you do your puzzles?”