by Angela Hayes
“Danton Xavier DeAngelo, this behavior of yours has gone on long enough.”
“What behavior?” I asked. I figured playing dumb might get her to leave me alone.
“Don’t you sass me young man. You know exactly what I mean!” Chanton scolded.
I closed my eyes, counted to three, thinking maybe she’d be gone when I opened them. So much for wishful thinking, she was still there.
“You look so much like your father, you figure the good Lord wouldn’t have given you so much of his hard headed-ness.” Walking the width of the room, my mother stopped in front of the shelves housing Love’s trinkets. Trinkets I’d thought of smashing into a million shards, but couldn’t bring myself to part with.
“I’ve allowed you ample time to solve this dilemma you seem to have gotten yourself into with that nice Love Howard. Since you have yet to resolve it, I have decided it is time I step in.”
I moaned, leaning back in my chair. Closing my eyes again, I mentally counted to ten then peeked through the slits. Nope, still there.
“Stop that.” Chanton scolded. “You’ve been doing that since you were a child. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.”
Coming back to my desk, my mother took one of the empty seats. “You were always so serious, so grounded. I can only imagine that this problem you’re having stems from the fact that Love is rather unique!”
I straightened abruptly in my chair. “Unique! That’s putting it mildly. The girl thinks she can see true love. That she’s been reincarnated to bring people together because of a spell her mother cast almost twelve hundred years ago when she couldn’t be with their father.” All the details I kept hidden spewed forth, propelling me out of my seat. I was glad to have it off my chest, glad to be able to share this revelation and not be the only one who bore its load alone. “She says she’s lived ten other lives prior to this one and in all but one she’s been married. She’s had children. I’m not sure how many, I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I couldn’t.”
“I know, she told me.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean she told you?”
“We had lunch this afternoon. Lovely little place. She told me everything.” Rising, my mother crossed to me, her eyes dreamy. “I think it’s just wonderful for you Danton.”
“Wonderful… for me? What do you mean wonderful for me? Didn’t you just hear what I told you? She’s crazy!”
The dreamy look in my mother’s eyes vanished instantly as I was pinned by the unfaltering stare every mother comes into possession to the moment she gives birth. Under its power I began to squirm.
“Yes, how wonderful! How wonderful it is that you’ve been chosen to be her partner for this life. If you’d pull your head out of your … that mound of jealousy that you’ve buried it in, you’d see that.”
“Jealousy? I’m not jealous.” My mouth gaped open like a fish, struggling for words as my mother continued unheeded. Why would I be jealous?
“So for what reason then do you sit here struggling needlessly day after day against a wonderful blessing? As your mother it embarrasses me to say that for someone as smart as yourself, you are being incredibly dumb. In all of this upheaval, you’ve forgotten your father’s most important advice- you can’t make a well versed decision without all the facts. Just like in business, you need every piece of information you can find. You need to consider all the angles.”
My mother paused in her monologue, turned to stand in front of the figurines again. “Our Love, she is much like the phoenix here, non? Both remarkable in their beauty and longevity.” She turned to me again, her eyes sad. “Perhaps I have done you a great disservice. I’ve neglected the Irish in your blood, the part that accepts fantasy and love without question. Had I not, you would not have become so serious. It would be easy for you to accept Love and what she is. You would not be hurting so. You would not turn your nose up at this magical gift.
“This Danton, is where your father went wrong. When it comes to running a multi-million dollar business, no stone is left unturned, no fact or fiction left to chance. Every single thing is taken into account. A very noble trait to have. Yet when it comes to personal aspects of life, well, you and your father flounder like a fish out of water. Tunnel vision takes over and you, like him, can only see things one way. Your way
“Go to Love.” My mother implored, taking my hands in hers. “Learn everything about her last lives and verify what you can. That way if she’s lying you’ll know and you can walk away from her with a clear conscience. If not, you’ll regret this for the rest of your life. All I know is I’ve never seen your cousin happier since the wedding was brought to an end, and we have your Love to thank for that. A woman who is responsible for that amount of happiness ten times over is a woman who needs a good, strong man at her side. And I am proud to say that you, my son, are that man.
In a gesture I’d long since forgotten, my mother pressed a warm kiss to my forehead. “There is no need to be afraid that you’ll make the same mistakes your father and I have made. What you have with Love won’t be temporary. It will be permanent. Whatever you decide my son, I wish you peace.”
And like that, as quickly as she’d come, my mother was gone.
Hands in my pockets, I looked at the dozen crystal figurines. Just how would I go about getting the dirt on Love’s previous lives, when I only really knew of one? The answer was clear. I’d have to go straight to the source herself.
It was time to see Love.
Chapter 43
Just the Facts
Love
“Following in the footsteps of the nautical theme, I was thinking we could do a one-eighty and go air and space.”
I jotted Kate’s idea down, adding it to the list of could be’s for the revamped theme displays we’d be unveiling next October. Just a little something to keep the public on their toes and coming back for more. Kate had done such a great job with her Civil War display that I was putting her in charge of brainstorming.
“We could start with the Wright Brothers, throw bi-planes in with bombers and 747’s.” I agreed.
“Maybe highlight the blimps?” She inquired.
“Good one, we could use the Hindenburg tragedy comparing it to today’s Good Year. Let’s also chart the timeline for the Space Race.”
Knock, knock.
“Come in.” I answered, giving permission for entry without looking up from the outline I was creating.
“Love.”
Hearing his voice, my hand jerked, slashing a line of ink across the paper. My heart skipping a beat as my head snapped up in surprise.
“Danton.” Just seeing his handsome figure took my breath away. “What are you doing here?” I blurted, surprised to say the least. Chanton didn’t waste time. “Oh, um. You’ve met Kate. Kate is one of our many interns. Kate, Danton DeAngelo of DeAngelo Advertising.”
“Hello again Mr. DeAngelo.”
“Hello Kate.”
I could see the curiosity brimming in my aides youthful eyes. “Could you give us a minute?”
“Sure, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” She smiled, gathering up her things.
“You do that. I really like your ideas.” I praised.
“Thanks.” Kate gushed, walking out of the room, closing the door behind herself.
“She’s a bright one.” I began when we were alone. “So what brings you by?”
“I’m not here to tell you I believe you,” Danton began, not venturing any further into my office. “I’m not sure that I can ever believe what you told me the other night. But if I’m going to try, I’m going to need some answers first.”
I did my best to bank down the sparks of optimism that threatened to burst into flames, struggling to keep my voice void of emotion. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything you can share. I’ll be verifying it all it for myself.” Danton warned.
I nodded. Wouldn’t I want to do the same thing if our positions were r
eversed? Find some tangible proof that what I claimed was true.
“Okay.” Grabbing a fresh pad of paper and pen I pushed away from my desk. Crossing the room to stand under the portrait on the far wall I offered them to Danton. “Let’s start here.”
Cautiously he took the few steps to join me, accepting the items I held out. He needed his space and I respected that. If he wanted to do his own research, I wouldn’t hinder him.
“Thank you.”
“Of course you realize that everything I’m going to tell you I could have researched myself, but I didn’t. Some of the things I’m going to tell you, you won’t be able to validate. These were personal and had no business being recorded in the history books.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He answered.
I pointed to the charcoal picture hanging in its frame. “You wouldn’t know because it’s black and white, but her hair was once the same shade as the coal used to draw this picture. Her eyes a unique shade of violet were the same color Faith carries on her left side. I already told you Rodolfo Chavez drew this of his wife and named it, El Corazon de mi Alma, the Heart of my Soul.” I paused, waiting for Danton’s nod to continue.
“Her name, my name was Lady Adabella Margaret Hayslettski Chavez. My sisters and I were born December twenty-second, seventeen hundred and four in Poland to the Count and Countess of Torun, Lolek and Janis Hayslettsi. Faith was named Inaya, Hope was called Aglaea.”
Danton’s face was curiously blank as he scribbled down the names I provided. I wondered distantly if this inherited impassiveness was a reason he did so well in his role as COO. Personally, for someone as animated as myself I found it a little annoying. It was like standing on shaky ground with nothing to make you move.
“In Seventeen fourteen to help strengthen Poland’s relationship with Spain and following a family tragedy, we relocated to Madrid. This is where I met and married Rodolfo when I was sixteen. He was twenty-seven.”
“A bit young weren’t you?” Danton asked, one eyebrow lifted in question.
“Compared to today’s time, yes. But back then the life span wasn’t near as long as it is today. Technology for reproduction was non existent. High society males were expected to sow their wild oats before settling down and with so much emphasize placed on obtaining an heir, brides were taken fairly young. A young wife increased the number and of males that could be delivered before she was no longer able to conceive.
“Today’s women are offered a plethora of ways to conceive well into their later years when otherwise, it would be impossible. Three centuries ago and before men and women raced against their biological clocks and the inconvenience of early death.”
“Anyway…” Danton prodded, trying to get back to the subject at hand.
“Rodolfo followed in his father’s footsteps as an engineer and together under Bourbon rule they made many improvements to the roads and bridges. We welcomed seven children; Reyna, Jorrin, twin boys Zale and Ziven, Iyana, Estevan and Mateo. Zale and Ziven inherited their father’s talent becoming architects. Reyna and Iyana married well among the Spanish and French courts. Estevan became a doctor and Mateo became involved in politics.”
I took a breath here. I may not look the same in every life and at times feel like my lives had been lived by someone else entirely, but there was no denying the feelings that engulfed me whenever I thought of the many children I had borne and buried many years ago.
“Jorrin, our oldest son had the heart and courage of a solider. In Seventeen-forty-one, he fell in the Battle of Cartagena. His father and I buried him three years after this portrait was drawn, he was nineteen.”
Tracing the glassed in lines that comprised my former self I remembered the day I learned the news of Jorrin’s death just as clearly as I saw Danton standing in front of me. “My youngest daughter’s recent engagement announcement had the household in a tizzy. Reyna, my oldest daughter, and her family were expected within the hour and I was using some free time before hand to pen a letter to Jorrin during his deployment.
April 5, 1741
My Dearest Jorrin,
I know this letter may reach you well on the heels of the first, but I cannot help myself. I miss you dearly. I am doing my best to be a brave and stoic mother so I will tell you immediately of your family instead of my never ending love for you.
Reyna is well, I’m expecting her for dinner this evening. She’ll make a beautiful mother. I’m on pins and needles awaiting the birth of my first grandchild, just as I am sure you cannot wait to be an uncle. Thanks be that she and her husband are not living far from here. I can’t bear being parted from any of my children for such long periods.
Zale and Ziven are driving your father mad, making off with his rulers and gages as they attempt their own blueprints. Their room is littered with numerous drawings full of mistakes and errors. I know within this, lays a masterpiece, but the maids still complain. As does your Father who can never find his tools when he needs them.
Iyana, as you know has accepted Lord Guilliam’s offer for her hand. I am very pleased. The household is already in a fine state as it readies for the nuptials that will not be spoken until you are safely home. A wedding and a home coming, it will be a very happy time for the Chavez family. Sadly she will be living in France and I will not be able to see her as much as I wish. I’m trying to come up with a plan to keep her and Guilliam here!
Estevan pines for you daily. He can nowadays be found buried nose deep in a tome in the library. I believe we have a scholar on our hands. He is certainly smart enough.
Mateo will be acquiring his first tooth soon. He is drooling over everything and is growing so fast I fear you won’t be able to recognize him when you return.
Your father sends his love and prayers as do I. He sorely misses your morning breakfast talks over the paper Godspeed my son, I am so proud of you.
Your loving mother,
Adabella Chavez
“I signed the letter with more flourish than I felt, hurried to brush the tears from my eyes before they could stain the parchment and run the ink. Telling of a mother’s pain was hard enough without her child seeing the proof of those statements. But sadly, the worst pain was yet to come.”
“Senora.”
I swallowed hard to relieve the constriction the held my throat so I could answer. “Si, Rosa.”
“The baby is awake.”
“Ah, and hungry no doubt.”
“Si.”
“Very well.” Heating the tube of wax in the flame at my elbow I pressed a furuncle of it against the center flap. Efficiently sealing the letter I engraved the red melted wax with the crested family ring I wore.
“Could you have this posted today?” I asked, blowing out the waiting flame.
“A letter for senor Jorrin?”
“Si.”
“I watched our housekeeper placed the letter in her pocket as we left the downstairs study headed for the carpeted stairs. My mind was on Mateo and the dinner menu. I wanted cook to prepare Reyna‘s favorite since she was visiting. It was the twins who alerted me something was wrong.”
“ Mama, mama.” Zale and Ziven called from the second floor landing. Worry
written across their pale faces as they hurried down the main flight of steps.
“Mama, mama. Riders are coming.”
“They’re from the king.”
“From the …” I couldn’t bring myself to complete the sentence.
My hands tightening on the baluster as terror gathered in the pit of my stomach. “Fetch your father, quickly, quickly.” I begged the twins, tears already in my eyes. I could hear Mateo’s hungry cries drifting down from the nursery above, but he would have to wait. I turned from him, a plea to God on my lips. “Jorrin.”
“Gathering my skirts I flung open the heavy doors and ran down the lane to meet the coming soldiers that brought word of my son.”
Unseen behind them under the copse of trees stood a young girl brushing her blonde white hair wi
th a silver comb.
“Senora Chavez?” The leader asked.
“Si.” The word burst from my throat.
“Dimly I could hear Rodolfo, a look of terror on his face, calling my name as he ran down the garden path to join us. His fear like mine was rampant in the air.
“Our deepest apologies Senora as well as those of our King. Your son has served his country faithfully.”
“I looked upon the gloved hand that held out the royal missive as one would a poisonous snake.”
A sob escaped my lips as Rodolfo snatched the offered dispatch, breaking the seal as the soldiers, pity rampart in their eyes took their leave. Scanning the contents he threw his arms around me, his tears already falling as he called for the son I knew we would never see again. All feeling left my legs as I slumped to the ground.
“I didn’t need to read the letter to know that it told me my son was dead. The riders with their presence had done that efficiently enough.”
“My son, my son.” I cried, a feral howl of anguish ripping from my soul. “No, no no.” I screamed my denial. This couldn’t be happening. Oh my God, my Jorrin was dead.
Coming back I focused again on Danton’s unemotional face, recognized the stirrings of sadness in his eyes as I told him of my son death.
“My agony only increased when I learned that my son’s body was buried at sea. I would not find the comfort that the closure of a funeral offered. The chance to see his body one last time and know without a shadow of a doubt that he would not be coming back to me. In my head I knew my son was gone, but my heart, oh it held out the smallest shred of hope that he might one day come home. I waited every afternoon on the front steps, after lunch and until tea.
“When Jorrin came back to me I wanted to be the first to lay eyes on his angel face. For nearly forty years I stood and waited,” My only company a white crow. “He never came home.”
Chapter 44
