Natasha's Legacy

by Heather Greenis

“It’s possible to find happiness without a marriage vow. I shared a home with your momma before we wed, and although you didn’t share a home, you became intimate with Adam before your wedding night.”

  Her face flushed. Then she glared at him in anger.

  “Poppa. You read—”

  “I did not.”

  “Did Alex speak—”

  Stewart pursed his lips together. Hope Donovan Venderkemp. Think about this. “He has not spoken a word about your entries.” He calmed his tone. “I knew. The glow on your face was unforgettable and Adam confirmed my suspicion when avoiding eye contact. With his shy demeanour, I was surprised.”

  Her face brightened with a slight smile. “I recall the night as if it occurred only minutes ago. Adam pleaded with me to wait but I was persistent. It was a romantic, magical night, and I wanted it to last forever. Seeing you in the hallway, I thought you’d comment. I could hear your voice in my head. ‘Hope, sweetheart, is it still your intent to marry Adam after lying with him. Is he adequate while intimate?’”

  Stewart chuckled. Then he remembered Izabella’s comment when he returned to bed followed by what Vicki said the following morning. So little faith in me.

  “I sympathized with Adam when you entered our home so late. I would never embarrass you in his presence. Adam would have attempted to avoid me from that day forward, refusing to look my way. If you had entered the house alone, perhaps I would have spoken.”

  “I’m thankful Adam was with me. I was embarrassed when we discussed my first kiss. I’m ashamed to admit if the roles were reversed, I would have spoken. My appearance may resemble Momma, but I possess Donovan blood. I have a tendency to be outspoken and blunt.”

  Stewart raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I don’t doubt you would have spoken. You only became reserved when it was hampered your personal gain. I recall that night like yesterday. I expected Adam to excuse himself and dash up the steps to change before returning home. He never moved but remained by your side. Your entire being glowed as you stood, attempting to avoid speaking with me. The following morning, you didn’t notice Izabella, yet she never arrived that early.”

  Hope’s jaw dropped before she raised her hands to cover her mouth. “Izabella spent the night?”

  “Ugh.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head. There was no need to mention Izabella during this conversation. Too late to deny it. He nodded and looked into his daughter’s eyes. “Yes. Once you left with Adam, Vicki and Greg joined us as we dined at a quaint café. After the meal, we separated and enjoyed a long stroll. The evening became romantic. I believe Matthew was conceived that evening.”

  Hope’s eyes shifted to the ceiling before nodding.

  “Once you and Adam left to swim, Izabella joined me in my room.”

  “I’m so naïve. I didn’t question you being up for a drink. It never occurred to me Izabella stayed. You’re my poppa. Of course you would wait until you were….” She pressed her lips together and then she giggled. “Married?”

  “Of course. I have always set such a fine example.”

  Hope snickered.

  “My relationship was not uppermost on your mind that evening or the following morning. My spunky daughter was not herself that evening, or on Sunday.”

  * * *

  Reflecting, Hope couldn’t help but smile. Adam was so mature, so responsible while at the orphanage, but relaxed at the pond. He laughed and played. He didn’t have a care in the world while swimming with her family. She fell even more in love with him. Her poppa would take Izabella home and her aunt and uncle would retire for the evening. Adam would tuck his bicycle out of sight and follow her to her room.

  “We didn’t spend a Saturday evening apart. I cherished our time together. Falling asleep in Adam’s arms.”

  Poppa raised one eyebrow. “Every Saturday night before the wedding? I was not aware of that.”

  Hope covered her face with her hands. This is silly. I’m a happily married woman with two grown children. Allowing her hands to drop back to her lap, she nodded. “I love Adam with all my heart and am so pleased Izabella entered your life.”

  Poppa’s facial expression turned serious. “Alex closed off his heart, like I did after your momma passed. He’s not willing to admit his true feelings, but he loves Sarah and is committed to her.”

  “Adam says the same.”

  He pointed his index finger at her. The dreaded lecture finger. “You must swallow your pride and accept your son’s decision.”

  “I pray Alex will put a ring on Sarah’s finger. We can arrange a small ceremony with family members. Sarah can move into our home as his wife.”

  “Hope Elizabeth Victoria Donovan Venderkemp. You risked your life giving birth to a son and daughter.”

  He glared up at the ceiling. Hope knew from journal entries, he was talking to her momma.

  “You struggled when I told you Izabella wouldn’t become my wife. I could have been forced to make a decision I didn’t want to make. Share a home with my daughter or with the woman I love. Neither of which would have made me completely happy. Alex won’t leave this building, but you would be forcing him to live in pain. He is grieving, watching you struggle to accept his decision. It’s hurting him. Seeing both you and Alex struggle is hurting me.”

  “I know.”

  The finger came out at her again. “Then swallow your pride,” he demanded. “Allow your son to be happy.”

  It was impossible to argue with both Adam and Poppa. Neither supported her. “I will not risk my relationship with Alex. Loving Sarah as a daughter, my eyes will be sparkling when she moves in.”

  Her poppa smiled and then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Years ago I allowed Alex and Rose the opportunity to read my journal, but never allowed you the same. We have been living under the same roof with a person we love for years. Perhaps it is time you read my thoughts on how our lives have progressed. Both you and Adam have permission to read my entries.”

  “I’d like that. To read your perspective. After this evening, I don’t have secrets. Like Momma, I wrote detail, but you and Izabella have permission to read my entries in the journal as well.”

  Poppa turned his attention to the box. Intrigued, she watched as he reached inside. First, he handed her what appeared to be a piece of paper. Instead, it was a portrait of her momma with her uncles, and her grandparents.

  “They are so young.” She looked at their faces. “Ugh, Momma.” Hope looked at her father. “Even at this age, she did not appear happy.”

  He shook his head. Her focus dropped down the the photograph.

  “I am not accustomed to seeing Uncle Marcus in royal attire.”

  “Nor am I, yet this is your heritage.”

  When he removed the crown from the box, Hope stared at it. She could vision the words her momma had written in the diary regarding the crown. The emotions and pain her momma felt surfaced. Hope's eyes filled with unshed tears. “This isn’t something I expected to see.”

  “I suggest you show this item to Adam, Alex, and Rose. I never want to see it again.”

  “I don’t want that. Momma despised that crown.”

  “Yes, she did. What you do with this is your decision.” Poppa’s eyes glistened with tears.

  There were so many times in her life Hope wanted her momma. When she needed her momma. It wasn’t God’s will her mother wasn’t with them. Her momma felt trapped and Anna didn’t help her. Her own brothers couldn’t help her. Overcome with emotions, Hope’s tears broke free. Comforted by Poppa's warm embrace, she sobbed.

  “I’d like to spend an hour with her, Poppa. I want to talk to her.”

  “So do I. There isn’t a day that passes I don’t miss her. I want to hear her voice and see her smile. Over the years we’d have enjoyed some wonderful conversations.”

  “I lack memories.” She rested her head against Poppa’s chest as the tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Why the tears?” Adam asked.

  Hope look
ed at the doorway to see her husband. “Oh my gosh. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Only a moment.”

  Poppa pulled back from the embrace.

  “Why are you crying?” Adam asked.

  “Hope will explain,” her poppa said, wiping his own cheeks. “I’m returning to my room. I love you, Hope.”

  “I love you, Poppa.”

  Once Hope settled herself, she removed the portrait from the box and handed it to her husband. Then she showed him the crown. A long discussion followed.

  * * *

  “Ah, geez. You should have warned me Alexander.” Keeghan wiped the tears from her own eyes. “Normally when you think of a life, you think of how they made the world a better place. Their positive contributions. Stewart and Hope’s lives and those around them improved because of Natasha’s death.”

  “Indeed,” Alexander admitted. “Her death was unfortunate. Nana Natasha would have been a remarkable woman.”

  “I can’t imagine growing up without both my parents.”

  “Neither can I,” Will admitted, placing his arm around her shoulder.

  Alexander pointed to the screen.

  * * *

  As the concert approached, Sarah’s days were busy. Once the mercantile closed, she walked to the conservatory to practice for a couple of hours before returning to her apartment to eat and sleep. As usual, Alex telephoned before she was finished eating. The two talked until she began to muffle yawns.

  The closer the concert got, the more hours she spent practicing. With her schedule exhausting her, Alex sought ways to help her. They sat in a restaurant on Saturday evening. His mind was elsewhere, wanting to wait until they were at her apartment to talk. Sarah also seemed preoccupied. After a short stroll in her neighbourhood for some fresh air, they returned to her building. Without speaking a word, Sarah closed her door, reached for Alex’s hand, and led him into her bedroom.

  Afterward, Alex rolled onto his back. Sarah rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. He stared at the ceiling, attempting to gain nerve. The speech was well rehearsed; he’d gone over it a million times. Stop procrastinating. I must do this, now. He inhaled, deeply.

  “I love you, Sarah. I told you months ago I wouldn’t say those words unless I was certain. I no longer doubt my feelings. I’m in love with you. I enjoy hearing your voice on the telephone and cherish Saturday and Sunday. I am hopeful you will consider living in my home. I want to fall asleep every evening with you in my arms and wake to see your beautiful face. Once I am certain you’re happy, I will place a ring on your finger and with God and our families as my witness, commit my life and heart to you. I’m asking you to share my home, my room, and my bed.”

  Proud of himself, he grinned. I did it. The room was silent. Too silent. She's thinking. Patience. I must be patient. An eternity passed. Sarah never uttered a sound. Enough. I need a response.

  “Sarah, what are you thinking?”

  She didn’t respond. Focusing his attention on her, she was breathing deeply. Very relaxed breathing.

  “Sarah?” He listened for a few seconds and then it hit him. “Ugh. No-o-o.” He clenched his eyes shut. “You fell asleep without hearing a word I said. The evening I have something important to say, you fall asleep. You were to accept my offer and allow me to seduce you. If I’d realized the extent of your exhaustion, the conversation would have taken place the moment we returned from the walk.”

  “Huh.” Alex pulled the blanket over her bare shoulders. He put his arm around her, closed his eyes, and eventually drifted off to asleep.

  Waking before dawn, Alex crawled out of her bed and dressed. Sarah’s deep restful breathing continued. Leaning over her, he gave a gentle kiss.

  “If you plan to join my family for breakfast, you must rise, sweetheart.”

  “Sleep,” she mumbled. She never opened her eyes.

  “Shall I ask Rose and Richard to give you a ride later?” he whispered.

  “Uh huh! Love you.”

  Sarah was in a sound sleep when Alex walked out the room and returned home.

  His grandfather and parents were sitting in the dining area when Alex entered the room.

  “Where is Sarah?” his momma questioned.

  “Sleeping. She’s exhausted.”

  “Sit and relax. I’ll get you coffee.”

  Moments later, his momma returned and took her usual seat across from him.

  “Did you speak with Sarah?” she asked. “You must tell me her reaction. What you are suggesting is accepted in this building, but it is not customary.”

  “We haven’t spoken. She will arrive after church.”

  On the eve of the concert, Sarah was in a solemn mood when they spoke on the telephone. Alex found himself dominating the conversation, something he was not accustomed to doing.

  “I’m nervous. I can’t relax,” she admitted.

  “There is no need to be nervous. You are a magnificent pianist.”

  “You are too kind.”

  Her tone was flat without any emotion. It was disheartening. I have to help you. “I’m coming over.”

  “I need rest.”

  Did the operator hear that? Alex’s cheeks burned. Prickly heat rushed throughout his entire body. “You can sleep with your head resting against my shoulder.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary. I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Alex. I love you.”

  About to respond, Alex heard the click. Sarah had ended the call.

  The following evening, dressed in his Sunday suit, Alex parked the car in front of Sarah’s home. Sarah stepped out in a brilliant blue gown and pearl necklace. Her hair was tied back and fringes framed her face. He placed his free hand on his chest. Breathe Alex. Remember to breathe.

  “You are stunning.”

  She never responded, but touched her temple to ensure her bangs were held in place by the barrette. Bringing his hand from behind his back, he produced a corsage with a red carnation and baby’s breath.

  “Don’t feel obligated to wear this. I found myself questioning whether it’s appropriate this evening.”

  “It’s not necessary, but I would be honoured if you would attach it to my gown.” He finished pinning it to her dress.

  Once at the hall, Alex noticed his father's horses.

  “My parents are here with Papa and Izabella.”

  “I'm so pleased they came.”

  “They are looking forward to this evening. I have raved about you since the concert.”

  “There is my momma and poppa. With Ingrid and Andrew.”

  Sarah retreated to the back of the stage, allowing Alex and his family to go to their assigned seats. Greeted by Andrew, Ingrid, and Sarah’s parents, Alex introduced his family before taking his seat beside her brother.

  “I had hoped to speak with Sarah before she performs,” Andrew grumbled.

  “She has barely spoken to me in two days,” Alex admitted. “The tone of her voice has been cold, almost emotionless. I don’t understand her mood, her nerves. The last performance didn’t bother her.”

  “Didn’t Sarah explain the importance of this evening?” Andrew questioned.

  “The importance? No.”

  “Ugh.” Andrew’s groan was filled with disappointment.

  “Sarah and her professor are expecting a … a guest this evening. The gentleman has the authority to offer Sarah a professional contract. Sarah could fulfil the dream she shared with her late husband. She has been struggling with her decision. My sister must decide on her future. She is torn and confused. In my opinion, she would be a fool to decline an offer.”

  “What…” The lights dimmed and the curtain rose, silencing Alex.

  Sarah emerged from behind the black curtain. With applause echoing in the building, she stood in front of the instrument, looked toward Alex, and winked.

  “Sarah, you must focus,” Andrew lectured quietly.

  Sarah made herself comfortable on the bench and looked
at the piano. The moment her fingers touched the keys, Alex turned and looked toward his family. They were mesmerized by the sound she created. He turned his attention back to Sarah, but his mind wasn’t on the melody. Why didn’t she speak of the contract? She should be speaking with enthusiasm bubbling from her being. I’m so proud of her. She’s brilliant on the instrument. During all three pieces, Sarah’s eyes remained closed. It was magical witnessing the melody become part of her being. The world around her seemed to have disappeared. The music ended. There was silence and then the instructor walked onto the stage. Sarah was glowing when he presented her with a bouquet of roses. Alex looked down to the single red rose on his lap.

  “Sarah will be pleased to accept your flower,” Andrew assured him. “Hand it to her with pride.”

  Entering the lobby, he saw Sarah’s portrait hanging prominently on the wall. Even without a smile, the artist captured her radiant glow. Beside it, an outline of her background. As expected, John’s name was mentioned. After reading her biography, he stepped back and scanned the crowd for Sarah.

  “Alex.”

  He jumped at the sound of Ingrid’s voice. He turned to acknowledge them.

  “Sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean to startle you. Sarah isn’t coming out. She asked us to bring you and your family to her.”

  Once behind the black curtain, they saw Sarah speaking with a tall, lean gentleman with grey hair. After introducing her academy professor, the gentleman excused himself and left.

  “You were magnificent tonight.” Alex handed her the rose.

  “Thank you.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “My apologies. I wasn’t myself this past week.”

  Too upset to respond, Alex stood like a statue. During their time together, she spoke of the importance of communication, yet she had not spoken of the decision, of the contract. They had spoken every night during the week but she never mentioned the potential contract or her music. The topic should have dominated their conversation.

  “It was truly an honour to be in this building, Sarah,” his grandfather remarked. “Thank you for the privilege. Goodnight, Alex. We will see you tomorrow.”