The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  “No need to thank me, dear. That is what this life is all about.”

  We enjoy a leisurely breakfast, talking about various things. I love the time I've spent with Jessica and have come to learn so much more about her life.

  Jessica was born and raised in Melbourne, Australia. When she turned twenty-five, she moved to Salt Lake City to go to school. Her younger sister and two brothers still live in Australia with their families. Though her family comes to the United States every now and then to visit her, the visits she enjoys most are the ones from her favorite nephew, Ingo. At least three or four times a year he pops in for a week long visit. She cherishes those times.

  I noticed several pictures of him in Jessica’s bedroom when I first arrived and was surprised by how handsome he is. To Jessica, Ingo is the son she never had, and she loves him very much. I can’t help thinking of how fortunate he is to have Jessica as an aunt. However, I am also reaping the blessings of having this loving woman as my friend.

  Having finished eating, we clean up and put everything away. Then I quickly touch up my makeup and check my outfit once more before leaving to catch the bus to work. Taking in my reflection, a shy smile curves my lips. A couple of days after I arrived, Jessica took me to the boutique and introduced me to two of the women I would be working with. They were friendly and very welcoming. They gave me a tour of the shop, helped me to get familiar with the place, and went over what my job would entail.

  While we were there, Jessica had me try on about a dozen of the outfits she sold there and bought them all for me despite my strong protest. I told her they were too expensive and I didn’t want her to spend money on me. I have never been accustomed to people giving me things and didn’t know how to accept Jessica’s gifts. She simply replied, “My dear, I have more money than I could possibly spend in this lifetime and it makes me very happy to spend it on the people I care about.” Then she promptly ended the discussion.

  So whenever I go to work, I'm a walking billboard for Jessica’s boutique, but the clothes are so beautiful, I don’t mind one bit. Today the springtime weather is comfortably warm, so I've chosen to wear a tan, knee-length, crocheted sundress with a matching shrug and gladiator sandals. The outfit actually looks nice on me. My hair is pulled up in a bun and wispy bangs lay lightly against my forehead. The sunlight always brings out the highlights in my auburn hair, and each time I leave the house, Jessica calls out after me, “You look just like a fashion model, only healthier.” I always laugh and wave, figuring I will humor her. I am nowhere near being model material.

  Jessica continually urges me to drive her car to work, but I insist on taking the bus, just in case something should come up and she needs the car. I have a North Carolina driver license, but I have never owned a car and am used to taking the bus. And the part of the Avenues in which we live isn’t too far from downtown, so sometimes I even walk part of the way. Gazing up at the beautiful, elegant old homes is one of my favorite past-times because they remind me of Asheville. Only now I am actually living in one instead of dreaming about it. The fact that I am living in Utah is a dream in itself and I still pinch myself sometimes.

  Today I am the first to arrive at the shop. Lifting my eyes to the clear blue sky, I silently thank God for blessing me with this new job and life. I absolutely love working at the boutique. Fashion is still kind of new to me, but it truly feels good to not only sell beautiful clothes, but to wear them as well. I have never owned so many lovely things or worked in a nicer place.

  Pulling the key from my purse, I quickly unlock the door. Having opened the store for business before, I know what to do to prepare for the day. I still can’t believe Jessica put so much trust in me. When I talked to April, one of my coworkers, about it a few days before, she told me that Jessica is just that way. She loves and trusts many people. To be included in that group is an honor, and I am determined to never let her down.

  About an hour after opening the shop, the phone rings. I am always hesitant about answering the phone, but it is an unavoidable part of the job.

  “Jessica’s Boutique. This is Cisely.”

  “Hi, it’s Wendy.”

  “Hey. You don’t sound good.”

  “I know. I think I’ve caught the flu. I was going to try and come in, but I can’t even stand up.”

  She really does sound miserable, and having had the flu myself a couple of times, I can definitely empathize. “You just rest and don’t worry. I can handle things here.”

  “Are you sure? You won’t even be able to take a lunch break if you’re there alone.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can always have something delivered and eat when I get a chance. You just get some rest and get better. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’m really sorry about this.”

  “It's totally fine. I'll be okay.”

  “Thanks, Cisely.”

  “You're welcome.” Hanging up the phone, I sigh deeply and gear up to go solo. I actually do feel pretty confident about handling things. Wednesdays are usually slow and I've only had a couple of customers since opening anyway. Besides, if it gets too busy, I can always call Jessica.

  I have a sandwich and a drink delivered from the deli down the street. I am able to take a bite or two in between customers. It feels great being responsible for the boutique. And after finishing the final paperwork, I am truly happy about the way the day went. I call Jessica before leaving to let her know how business was and tell her when I will be leaving. She always makes me promise to do this so she will know when to expect me. It helps her to not worry, though I actually love the fact that for the first time in my life, someone cares enough about me to worry. It's nice to know I matter to someone.

  “Wendy called in sick today,” I tell her. “She has the flu.” “Yes, I know.”

  “She call you?”

  “Yes. She called me this morning after talking with you

  because she worried about you being there alone. But I knew you could handle it.” Her confident words make me smile. “Well I appreciate your faith in me. I would have been worried if I were you.” I almost laugh at the thought of actually owning a business.

  Jessica chuckles. “I knew you would do well, my dear. I have complete faith in you.”

  “I’ll be home in a bit.”

  “You have your cell with you?”

  “I do.”

  “Remember to call me when you are on your way.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I can hear her laughing as I hang up the phone.

  A short while after ending the call, my jolt of confidence slowly fades as the haunting feelings that have become my unwanted companion begin to resurface. I hate not being able to keep my thoughts in the present, and I wish I could leave the negativity behind.

  If I could only forget the past and move on. If I could truly believe it doesn’t matter, that none of it matters. Hanging my head, I squeeze my eyes shut.

  I have to get over my past. Otherwise, how can I ever look to the future?

  Three

  Ingo smiles contentedly as he parks the rented gray BMW in front of his aunt’s home. He hasn’t seen Jessica in about five months and has missed her terribly. He didn't call to tell her he was coming because he loves surprising her, and she is always overjoyed to see him. Turning off the engine, he gets out and hauls his luggage up the front steps.

  When Jessica opens the door, she releases a delighted squeal.

  “Ingo, my boy! It’s so good to see you!” She immediately throws her arms around him and he leans down to accommodate her short frame, soaking in her warm embrace.

  “It’s good to see you too, Aunt Jessica. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she says, patting his face. “Well, come on in. Let’s get you settled. Then you can fill me in on what’s been going on with you and the family.”

  Ingo follows his aunt up to the top floor, then back to the bedroom that has become his second home. Looking around the cozy room, he smiles.
Nothing has changed. It’s still home sweet home. Deciding to wait and unpack later, he places his luggage on the bed, anxious to visit with his favorite aunt. He has always felt a special closeness to Jessica. Not only is she the most down to earth person he knows, she is also one of the few people who never judges him or tries to interfere in his life in any way.

  Being thirty years old, a successful photographer and very wealthy, Ingo’s family has determined it is time for him to settle down. Everyone he knows seems to be in cahoots with his family in search of a bride for him, with the exception of his best friend who lives in Italy, and they have all done their fair share of matchmaking.

  But not Jessica. She understands him better than anyone. She truly knows his heart and the kind of woman it will take to claim it. Sometimes he thinks Jessica knows him better than he knows himself. Still, she never interferes or tries to push her opinion on him, and because of this, Ingo respects her tremendously.

  Jessica carries two glasses of lemonade over to the table. “Now, tell me what’s been going on with you.”

  Ingo smiles. “Oh, nothing new really. Same old things. I’m still peddling my photos and dodging matchmakers.”

  “I don’t doubt you are doing wonderfully with your photography. You do well at everything you set out to do, and I’m sure the family wouldn’t know what to do if they couldn’t play multiple Yentas.”

  He laughs. “Aunt Jessica, I don't know what would I do without you. You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better about life.”

  She pats his hand gently. “That’s what I’m here for. Now, I noticed you brought an extra bag with you this time. Does that mean I’m going to have a longer visit with you?”

  “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” He pauses, pushing hand back through his wavy hair. “I guess I’m in need of a change.”

  There is no way Ingo can explain the restlessness he is feeling, and has been feeling for some time now. He needs to do something, but he has no clue what exactly. He has a beautiful home in Australia and life is good, but for some reason he still doesn’t feel settled. “I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while, just until I decide what I want to do.”

  Jessica smiles but doesn’t answer right away. Ingo watches her close her eyes, remaining quiet for a few seconds, and wonders if there is going to be a problem with him staying. Then she opens them and again smiles at him, and he wonders at the sudden twinkle in them.

  “I think you staying is a marvelous idea. It would make me very happy.”

  He heaves a small sigh of relief. At the moment there is truly no place else he would rather be. Jessica’s home is home to him, even more so than his own. “Thank you, Aunt Jessica. I’ll keep from under foot and try not to be too much of an inconvenience.”

  “Nonsense,” she says, waving a hand. Walking over to the cupboard, she takes down some dishes to set the table for dinner. “You could never be an inconvenience, love. I’m just glad you’re staying.”

  “So am I. It will just be until . . .” Ingo stops speaking as his attention shifts to the woman entering the kitchen.

  Jessica turns, a wide smile lighting her face. “Hello, my dear. Come and sit with us.” She places a casserole, several side dishes, and a basket of rolls on the table, continuing to smile as the woman approaches.

  “Hello,” Cisely says, taking a seat at the table, her eyes never breaking contact with Ingo’s.

  Ingo is motionless, unable to tear his gaze away from her. She is absolutely the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and his hands suddenly itch to hold his camera and capture her on film. He is gawking like an idiot and he knows it, but he can't help it. Continuing to stare, he takes in her every feature. During his years as a photographer, he has taken his share of photos of beautiful women. But none of them hold a candle to the one before him now, even with the slight sadness in her eyes. None have ever come close. And the silky tone of her greeting only adds to her allure.

  It is obvious to Ingo that she's been taken off guard by his presence, but he also sees recognition in her eyes. Maybe she has seen one of Jessica's photos of him. Watching her study him, he wonders what she is thinking and takes a mental account of his features. His hair is a wavy, light brown with blond highlights, and his eyes are a steel gray. Women find him handsome, but this is the first time a woman's thoughts really mattered. He watches her pull her eyes away and quickly glance at Jessica.

  Jessica clears her throat. “Cisely, I would like you to meet my nephew, Ingo. Ingo, this is my dear friend, Cisely Matthews.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing and extending his hand, smiling as she shakes it timidly. She is tall, he notices, maybe five-foot-nine or ten. At six-foot-four, he still towers over her.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

  Sighing inwardly, allowing the tone of her silky voice to wash over him, he reluctantly releases her hand and sits back down across from her.

  After Jessica pronounces a blessing on the food, and when they have begun to eat, Ingo asks his aunt, “How do you two know each other?”

  “I met Cisely when I visited North Carolina in January.” The two women exchange smiles. “We hit it off immediately and spent some time together while I was there. I invited her to come and stay for a while in the hope that she will come to love it here so much, she'll want to stay. She has only been here for a couple of weeks and we've had a splendid time. I feel like I’ve known her forever.”

  Ingo turns his gaze back to Cisely. “And how do you like Salt Lake so far?”

  “I love it,” she answers, again meeting his eyes. “Utah is very beautiful, and Jessica has been wonderful, almost like a mother to me. I feel very welcome and fortunate to be here.”

  “It is I who am fortunate,” Jessica says. “I only hope you will choose to make this your home.”

  Ingo watches the change in Cisely's expression and can almost sense her discomfort at being the center of attention. He wonders if she has always been this way or if it is just his presence. She looks like she is ready to escape, and she has hardly eaten. This is not good. Not good at all. She stands and picks up her plate, her food barely touched.

  “Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone to visit.”

  “Oh, please don’t go,” Ingo says standing quickly, trying not to sound eager but failing miserably. “Stay and talk with us for a while.” There is indecision in her eyes. He doesn't try at all to hide the hopeful look in his, and he senses her warming slightly.

  “I don't want to intrude on your visit together.”

  “You're not intruding,” Jessica says.

  Ingo again notices the twinkle in his aunt's blue eyes, and for the first time ever, he sees her in matchmaker mode. He almost laughs because it is so unlike her.

  When Cisely sits back down, Ingo begins asking her questions about herself. Her answers are brief and he gains no insight into her life at all. Glancing at his aunt, it is obvious she has picked up on Cisely’s evasiveness as well. He wishes she would open up more and hopes in time she will.

  Ingo tells her about his job as a freelance photographer and talks with them about his two older brothers and the sheep station they own and run together. And once again he has Jessica in stitches as he talks about his parents', as well as his aunt and uncles' matchmaking escapades.

  Ingo loves the way Cisely listens to him intently and hopes his own carefree nature won't overwhelm her. He has always been one to embrace life with both hands and she seems more reserved than any woman he's ever met before. But when she smiles, it lights up his whole world and fills him with warmth.

  Cisely finally muffles a yawn and he accepts that their evening is drawing to a close.

  “I think I’ll turn in now,” she says, standing. She takes her plate over to the sink.

  He takes his over as well. “It has been a pleasure visiting with you.”

  “It's been fun,” she tells him. “I’ll see you both in the mo
rning.” She turns to leave.

  “Hey, Cisely.” He stops her with a light touch on her arm. “Are you busy tomorrow? I mean . . . if you aren’t, I would really like to take you out. That is, if you don’t have any plans.”

  She stares at him blankly. He has caught her off guard again in a major way. “Uh, I have to work. I’m–”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Jessica cuts in quickly. “I was thinking about going into the shop tomorrow for a while anyway. So why don’t you two go out and have some fun?”

  Ingo watches Cisely's eyes widen and almost feels guilty for putting her on the spot. Almost.

  “But . . .” she sputters.

  “No buts,” Jessica says. “You should get out for a bit. It will be good for both of you.”

  Cisely finally turns to Ingo and pauses before saying, “Sure. I would be happy to go out with you.”

  “Great,” he says with an easy smile, attempting to keep his excitement level down. Inside he is almost flying apart. “Then I will see you in the morning.”

  “Okay.” She smiles slightly. “Goodnight, Ingo.”

  “Goodnight, Cisely.”

  She stares at him a moment longer before finally turning away. “Goodnight, Jessica.”

  “Goodnight, dear. Sleep well.”

  Jessica watches Ingo watching Cisely leave the kitchen, warmed by the way things are going between the two. If ever two people produced fireworks, it was those two.

  She listens to Ingo sigh as he walks back to the table. “I don’t know how it happened, Aunt Jessica, but I’m pretty sure she just took my heart upstairs with her.”

  “I think I knew that,” she agrees, unable to mask the sadness in her voice.

  “What is it, Aunt Jessica?”

  “I have grown very fond of Cisely, and I’ve been so happy having her here, but she seems to be surrounded by a wall I can’t break through no matter how hard I try.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jessica sighs deeply. “She is such a wonderful person, but I think she’s carrying around a lot of unnecessary guilt.” She pauses, rubbing her eyes. “From what Cisely has told me, and you as well, she had a pretty hard life being raised by an alcoholic mother and all, but I think there is more to it than she will say. I don’t know the full extent of what she has gone through, but I do know this: for some reason she can’t seem to let go of her past. She seems to handle her childhood okay, but I think it’s the choices she made later in life that she is having problems with.