“That’s great, honey, good for you.” I knew her honors class was difficult and she struggled for those As. “Hey, I was talking to Connie and she said they have an opening at her husband’s law firm for the summer. It’s part-time, but it would look fantastic on your applications. I told her to hold it until I spoke with you.”

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

I pressed my lips together and kept my tone bright. “Maybe you can think about it. You’ll still have plenty of time to yourself, and they offer decent pay. I know you mentioned law before, so this may be a good way to see if you like it. I found I loved advertising during my own internship.”

“Yep, you told me a million times,” she muttered under her breath.

I hated the disappointment that cut through me. Rationally, I knew this was a difficult age, but my patience was beginning to wear thin. “Okay, you can lose the attitude. I’m only trying to help. Summer is a month away and all the good jobs and opportunities will be gone.”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer, okay? I actually wanted to talk to you about something. A different plan for the summer.”

I perked up, relieved that at least she’d been thinking about it. I couldn’t have her hanging around with endless free time while I worked nonstop. I definitely planned on taking a few long weekends with her, maybe at the Jersey Shore, but she needed to have some responsibility at this point. “What is it?”

She hesitated and shook her head when I pulled into my mother’s driveway. “I’ll tell you tonight after dinner.”

“Oh, I’m intrigued.”

She jumped out of the car without another word, and I clamped down on another sigh. When I walked inside, Allegra had already settled into the kitchen, chattering with my mother with an enthusiasm I never got to see. I felt bad about the sharp zing of resentment but buried it quickly. Of course she wouldn’t have any issues with her grandmother. Mom had watched her regularly since she was young and loved being involved in every detail of her life. She also spoiled her rotten, I reminded myself.

“Hi, Mom,” I greeted her, kissing her on the cheek. She wore a bright-red floral apron and matching lipstick and smelled of sugar and lemons. Her hug was extra-tight and the flare of guilt hit again. I had to be better. Yes, I got frustrated with the constant judgments, but I was sure she was lonely without Dad. After I scored this account, I was slowing down. “Smells good.”

“Nonni, can I do the mashed potatoes?”