The Stars Afire: An Elemental Mysteries Anthology

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The Stars Afire: An Elemental Mysteries Anthology Page 13

by Elizabeth Hunter


  “I didn’t sleep well either,” Beatrice said. “Not for a long time. I lost my father twice.”

  Arturo continued, “It was determined that parents with your peculiar condition might actually be better suited to caring for her.”

  “Because we can use amnis?” Giovanni asked.

  “That may have been a consideration, yes. You also speak or are willing to learn her native language.”

  “Giovanni speaks Arabic fluently,” Beatrice said. “And I’m nearly fluent. I’ll continue to study.”

  A hint of softness flickered in Arturo’s eyes. “I’m sure you will, Ms. De Novo.” He closed the file on his desk. “Are you ready to meet her?”

  “Her name,” Giovanni said. “What is the little girl’s name?”

  “Sadia,” Arturo said.

  “Destined for joy,” Giovanni said.

  What kind of mother had so much faith that she gave her daughter such a name in the middle of a war? What kind of child could live through so much in such a short period of time?

  Destined for joy.

  Sadia, whatever might have come before you, you are destined for joy.

  And you are destined for us.

  Chapter 3

  Beatrice didn’t know how she was supposed to feel on the way to the orphanage in the suburbs outside Rome. It was the middle of the night, but Arturo had assured them the girl would be awake. They were going to pick Sadia up that night and take her home with them. One of the sisters—a woman Arturo had chosen—would be going with them for a week of transition. The paperwork was already in process. Giovanni had already called Angela, Ben, and Tenzin at the house.

  To Beatrice, the whole process seemed like a race to the finish after a very long marathon. They’d first started talking about adoption when Ben had moved permanently to New York and the house felt too empty. They’d started the process with Arturo Leon a year before after consulting with Carwyn about children most in need.

  And now it seemed like everything was happening at once.

  “It’s a little like giving birth I guess,” Beatrice said, her hand gripping Giovanni’s. “Lots of waiting, and then everything happens quickly at the end.”

  The sisters who were coordinating the care of orphans in the convent assured them that a quick transition with a single caregiver was the easiest in the long term. Sadia hadn’t bonded with any of her caregivers. She’d resisted any attempts at a relationship with the sisters and generally played on her own.

  Beatrice held the picture in Sadia’s file, the twin portraits of her parents printed out from the university website, where they were still listed as working.

  The woman who looked back at Beatrice had kind hazel eyes, light brown hair, and a soft smile. The man looked serious, but his dark beard and unruly mop of hair reminded Beatrice of Giovanni. He had smile lines in the corner of his eyes that told Beatrice the solemn man in the picture didn’t always look so stern.

  Did Beatrice look as kind as this woman? Her skin was pale and her hair was a natural dark chocolate brown. Her eyes were dark brown and her skin was naturally cool, though she used amnis to keep it a more human temperature.

  “Are you nervous?” Giovanni asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I want her to like me.” Beatrice gave him a rueful laugh. “I’m going to be her mother, and I don’t even know what that is.”

  “You do.” He pulled her hand into his lap and enfolded it in both of his. “You will be a wonderful mother. Don’t listen to your doubts. Listen to your heart.”

  “Are you worried?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” That made her feel better.

  They kept their hands linked while the gates of the convent swung open. Their car was waved toward a small parking lot near a gated play area surrounded by trees and what looked like a vegetable garden.

  The car stopped and the driver opened Beatrice’s door. A car seat had already been installed between them. The bench across from the car seat held a small bag with a blanket and a book. The sisters had told them it was better to wait for presents.

  Keep things simple and calm. Too much excitement will only lead to tears.

  Tears from Sadia or from Beatrice?

  She didn’t need to breathe, but she did anyway, pacing her breath to the smiling young woman who ushered them into a playroom near the garden. A low light was glowing in the corner of the room, and a woman sat next to a little girl on a sofa, holding a book as the little girl sucked her thumb and plucked at her eyelashes.

  The child looked exhausted. She had round cheeks and dark curls, her hair clearly inherited from her father. But her eyes were her mother’s, a soft greyish hazel that shone in the lamplight. When Beatrice and Giovanni entered the room, she glanced at them, then back at the book. Then she looked up again, shifted closer to the woman with the book, and kept her eyes fixed on them as they approached.

  The woman waved them over, and Beatrice sat next to her. “Hello,” she said with a soft Irish accent. “I’m Sister Joan. I’m a good friend of Father Arturo’s. And this is Sadia.”

  “Marhaba, Sadia,” Beatrice said. “I’m Beatrice.”

  “Ciao, Sadia,” Giovanni said.

  Sadia stared at Beatrice, and her little hand reached out and clutched the leg of the sister. Her cheeks plumped as she sucked her thumb, and her eyes were wide and glossy with exhaustion.

  Giovanni sat on the floor in front of the little girl, leaning back against the sofa and peeking over the sister’s lap to see the book with brightly colored farm animals on the pages.

  “Sadia likes this book very much,” Sister Joan said.

  “Does she?”

  “Perhaps you’d like to read it?” Joan handed the book to Beatrice, who angled the book so Sadia could see.

  Sadia kicked at Giovanni’s shoulder, but he ignored her, looking at the pictures in the book.

  Sadia kicked again, but Giovanni still ignored her. He spoke quietly with Sister Joan, chatting about the night and how long it had been since the little girl ate dinner. What had she eaten? What foods did she like? What kind of toys and games?

  Sadia kicked Giovanni again.

  Giovanni placed a hand on Sadia’s foot and said firmly in Arabic, “No, Sadia. It’s not kind to kick others.”

  Sadia popped her thumb out of her mouth, gaped for a moment, then hit Giovanni’s hand.

  “No,” he said again, very softly in Arabic. “Hitting hurts. You should not hit.”

  She tried to smack him again with her baby-soft hand, but Giovanni grabbed it. “No. No hitting.” He quickly kissed the back of it, then let it go before he continued speaking quietly with Joan.

  Sadia’s eyes went wide. She put her thumb in her mouth again and scooted toward Giovanni, holding out her arms. Very casually, Giovanni stood, picked her up, and set Sadia on his lap. The nun stood and motioned for Beatrice to scoot over. The nun moved to the other side of Giovanni. Within Sadia’s sight, but a little ways away. Sadia turned her head and watched the sister, but her eyes were soon drooping. So she turned her attention back to the book with the colorful pictures of farm animals.

  Beatrice read in a soft voice and Giovanni held the little girl, rocking her slightly on his lap. After a few minutes, Sadia gave a great sigh and turned her cheek to Giovanni’s chest. She put her ear over his heart, and Giovanni began to hum.

  Beatrice watched as the little girl’s eyes began to grow heavy. Heavier. Her blinks grew longer and longer.

  “Why don’t we go now?” Sister Joan said. “Before she’s completely asleep. We don’t want Sadia to wonder how she got to her new home. And let’s take the book; it’s a favorite of hers.”

  “We’re going to go home now, Sadia.” Giovanni stood, holding the little girl in his arms.

  Sadia began to struggle. She took her thumb out of her mouth and began to whine, reaching for the nun.

  “Sister Joan is coming w
ith us,” Beatrice said.

  “Would you like me to hold you?” The nun approached with her hands out, but Sadia turned her face away, hiding it in Giovanni’s shoulder and hitting his shoulder with her left hand.

  “You’re going home now, Sadia,” he said in Arabic, walking toward the door. “Your real home. Do you like to ride in cars?”

  Sadia stopped hitting, lifted her head, and looked around, her wide eyes taking in everything. Beatrice walked behind her. Joan was in front of them, speaking softly in a soothing voice.

  “…sure everything is going to be fine. Your speaking her language will be a huge help. I can tell you have an easy way with children. She’s not your first?”

  “No, I have two human sons. One adopted around Sadia’s age and the other when he was older. They’re both grown now. Sadia is my first daughter.”

  “Oh, how delightful. She’s young, but she’s very bright. Very aware.”

  “I can see that.”

  Beatrice watched Sadia. The little girl rested in Giovanni’s arms, her chin on his shoulder and her thumb in her mouth. Her eyes were fixed on Beatrice.

  Who do you think you are? they seemed to ask. And what do you think you’re doing?

  Chapter 4

  Sadia nodded off in the car, woke when they arrived back at the house, then lay in a semiawake state as Ben and Tenzin did their best not to make a fuss around her. For most of the night, she was utterly glued to Giovanni.

  The baby had refused the car seat despite attempts at bribery. Eventually Sister Joan relented when Giovanni reminded her that his hold was probably more secure than every seat belt in the car should an accident happen.

  She had stayed stuck to Giovanni through the drive. Had clung to him when they entered the house and refused every attempt at soothing from anyone else.

  Eventually he used a little bit of amnis to send her into a deep sleep and laid her in the crib they’d set up in the room next to theirs. Ben and Sister Joan would stay in Sadia’s room throughout the day, and Ben had access to Giovanni and Beatrice’s room should they be needed. Giovanni was hoping she’d sleep until sunset since they’d blacked out the curtains in the little girl’s room.

  Giovanni watched Beatrice as she lay in their bed.

  “She doesn’t like me,” Beatrice said.

  “She doesn’t know you.”

  “She likes you.” Beatrice rolled over. “I’m glad. I’m not jealous. I promise I’m not. I’m just relieved she seems to have latched on to one of us.”

  Giovanni slid into bed beside her. “I suspect I remind her of her father. Same hair. Same beard. Same accent.”

  “Did she know her father?”

  “She would have heard his voice maybe. Or maybe her mother showed her pictures. It’s hard to say.”

  “Or maybe she just likes you and not me.” Beatrice sighed. “At least she ate the bananas I cut for her.”

  “It’s our first night. She doesn’t seem to like anyone much right now. Which is to be expected. We’ve uprooted her again.”

  “She didn’t like the orphanage,” Beatrice said with a yawn.

  “How can you tell?”

  “It’s obvious.” Her eyes began to droop. “She didn’t cry when she left. Her face never even turned to look at it.”

  Huh. She was right. It hadn’t struck him at the time because he’d been so focused on the car seat argument with Sister Joan. “It’s a properly run orphanage. I checked it out before we arrived. Excellent educational programs. Child psychologists in residence. Family units set up for children in residence.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine, but it wasn’t her home,” Beatrice said, her eyelids falling. “She knew it wasn’t her home.”

  We will be her home.

  Though they had many houses around the globe, Beatrice and Giovanni had decided that for at least the first year, they would remain in Los Angeles with Sadia. Dez, Matt, and Carina were close by. Isadora and Caspar shared the house. Tenzin and Ben were in New York but could get to the West Coast with a day’s notice. They had already secured an Arabic-speaking nanny for Sadia during the day. She’d come highly recommended by Matt and Dez, who had found her through their contacts for employees of vampires.

  “She’s going to love you,” Giovanni whispered to Beatrice. “She’s going to fall in love with your laugh and your smile. Just like I did. She’s going to learn to rely on your fierce protection and depend on your generous heart.” He kissed her temple. “She doesn’t know it yet, but she is destined for joy, and you’re going to show it to her.” Giovanni closed his eyes. “I know, because you showed it to me.”

  Chapter 5

  Four days after Sadia had come to the house in Rome, Sister Joan began to hang back taking care of her. She sat at the table, but she didn’t feed the baby. She talked with Giovanni, Beatrice, and Benjamin, but she didn’t intervene when Sadia got upset with any of them.

  And she got upset a lot. Sometimes with Giovanni, but mostly with Beatrice. She was an utter and completely grump with Beatrice.

  Beatrice didn’t cut Sadia’s food the right way, and the baby threw it on the ground. She didn’t like the clothes that Beatrice picked out and turned into a tiny wild thing when Beatrice tried to get her dressed. She only fell asleep with Giovanni. She only smiled at Ben.

  Beatrice felt like so much chopped liver.

  Ben was having a joy of a time playing big brother, and just like Giovanni, Sadia seemed to have latched on to him.

  “I shouldn’t have expected anything else,” Beatrice said, sitting next to Tenzin while Ben shook the ornaments on the Christmas tree, making the baby giggle. “They’re two of the most charming men in the world. Of course she loves them.”

  Tenzin said, “But when she’s hungry, she tugs on you.”

  “And then she throws the food at me. Should I be flattered?”

  Tenzin cocked her head. “My daughter adored her father. Every time he was with her, she smiled and laughed. She was a very happy baby, but she laughed most with him.”

  Beatrice sat stunned. “You never talk about them.”

  “I had forgotten that memory.” She shrugged. “I forget a lot. But girls love their fathers. That’s very typical. They rely on their mothers. Just keep that in mind.”

  “I didn’t rely on my mother,” Beatrice said. “I did rely on my grandmother. So I guess there’s that.”

  “The warmth and affection will come in time with her. The fact that she seems capable of it is a miracle. She’s a wounded child, but she’s doing incredibly well.”

  “We’ll have setbacks. We’ve been warned.”

  “Of course you will.”

  “And she could need therapy for attachment disorders as she grows up.”

  Maybe Beatrice would too, because as much as she was devoted to Sadia’s well-being, the flood of love and affection sure hadn’t found her yet.

  “And if she does need therapy, you’ll get her what she needs.” Tenzin bumped Beatrice’s shoulder. “You’re her mother.”

  You’re her mother.

  It didn’t feel like it most of the time. Beatrice wondered if there was something permanently wrong with her because she didn’t feel an overwhelming rush of love for the little grump. She worried. She watched.

  But the love she’d expected to feel never came. The worry and the fear were all she had to keep her company as Sadia, Giovanni, and Ben seemed to grow closer every day.

  The week came and went. Sadia barely seemed to notice when Sister Joan said goodbye. The cheerful and encouraging nun gave Beatrice her phone number and told her to call with updates and any concerns. Beatrice smiled and thanked her for helping.

  And that was that.

  Sadia quickly fell into a nightly routine of Giovanni’s making. She rose and ate breakfast in the afternoon with Ben and Angela. She took a short nap just before nightfall and woke, ready to explore with Giovanni. Books were clearly a favorite, but stuffed animals had also proven to be a hit.

&
nbsp; The doll Beatrice gave her was not.

  She had no interest in movies, but she loved seeing pictures on Ben’s phone, especially short video clips of laughing or playing babies.

  She was cross with Beatrice. The food still ended up on the floor and the cup was smacked across the table. She squirmed away from Beatrice’s arms and threw books on the floor when Beatrice tried to read them.

  More than once Beatrice had to hide in her room so no one would see the tears that threatened to choke her.

  Who do you think you are?

  What do you think you’re doing?

  Chapter 6

  On the night before Christmas, Beatrice heard shrieking outside. She ran out to see Tenzin with Sadia in her arms, flying in circles around the courtyard.

  Terror swamped her. “What are you doing?” she yelled.

  Sadia’s shrieks turned to peals of laughter. She was nearly choking with it.

  “Tenzin, get down right now!”

  “What?”

  “Down! Now!”

  “Fine.” Tenzin landed and set Sadia on the ground. “She was having fun.”

  “She’s eighteen months!”

  “I wouldn’t have dropped her. Do you think I would have dropped her? I did the same with Carina at that age. She loved it.”

  Sadia’s laughter stopped and the little girl looked slightly green around the edges. She opened her mouth in a wail before she puked. Mashed banana and cereal came in a flood from the little girl’s mouth, and she began to cry.

  Beatrice pointed to the puke. “You are so totally cleaning that up.”

  Tenzin cocked her head. “I suppose it’s a good thing we landed before that happened.”

  “Ya think?”

  Sadia was still crying, her little face scrunched up in agony. Beatrice picked her up, ignoring the girl’s stiff little spine, and marched her into the kitchen. The little grump was too miserable to shove Beatrice away. She shook with hiccups and heaves. Beatrice was fairly sure there was a trail of puke between the courtyard and the kitchen sink.

 

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