by ADAMS, J.
“Maybe you should go on to bed, love. I'll be up in a bit.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I agree. “I’m sorry, guys. It’s getting harder for me to keep my eyes open these days.”
“I understand completely,” Adagio says. “I really appreciate your help today. It meant so much to the Flynns, and to me.”
“I was glad to do it, really.” Smiling sleepily, I head up to bed.
Standing in the dark bedroom, Adagio stands at the window, staring out at the night sky.
What is wrong with me?
The question runs through his head over and over, and the answer is always the same.
He needs something more.
He doesn’t need material things. He's not after fame, glory, power or prestige. He has no need of such things and he recognizes the many gifts in his life. Each new day is a gift to him.
No, what he seeks goes far deeper than any material or worldly idea. His quest is a quest of the heart. His need is an emotional one.
This experience with Gary and Tara has taken a bigger toll on Adagio's emotions than he realized, and he sees so much that he is missing out on. Love and laughter. A family to call his own. He craves those things like a man in a desert craves water.
His gaze moves to an object lying on the dresser with his rental car key, the sparkling stones reflecting the moonlight. It is his mother's ring. He always carries it with him, and he has no idea why. Maybe to feel closer to her. Maybe it is for luck. Maybe it is an unspoken dream of finally meeting and placing it on the finger of the woman he loves.
A dream it pains him to think about at the moment.
I don't know what to do with this. It hurts.
He pulls back the covers on the bed but can’t force himself to lie down. He is so lonely, the pain is threatening to tear him apart. Slipping to his knees by the bed, he closes his eyes.
Please help me to be patient, God. I know you have a plan for me. I just need to be patient. Please help me. Burying his face in the covers, he lets the tears come, losing track of time as the emotion he has been holding back for so long finds its blessed release.
Adagio’s next awareness is sunlight filtering through the blinds. He doesn’t remember crawling into bed, but he feels better, calmer, like everything will be okay.
Now he will wait patiently and continue to take life one day at a time.
Twenty-four
We hear from Adagio once or twice a week. When he left after the funeral, he seemed more somber and we were worried about him. We still worry. He constantly assures us that he is okay and tells us not to worry, which is easier said than done.
I visit Tara Flynn once a week and have gotten to know her better. During our visits, we talk about Brian. Tara shares stories with me of her son’s childhood and things they did together. Her grief is still deep and I am glad to be a listening ear. She even shares her pregnancy experiences with me, which I enjoy a great deal. I ask questions about labor and delivery and Tara freely answers them. Though I know every woman’s pregnancy is different, it is still helpful to know a little more about what to expect. We have become great friends.
Adagio spends Christmas with us. He is doing well but couldn’t stand the thought of spending Christmas alone.
On Christmas Eve, we celebrate with eggnog and the cookies and cakes Jessica and I baked all day. Adagio even makes cannoli and chocolate biscotti, both of which are the most heavenly treats I've ever eaten. Sitting near the tree, we listen to Ingo read the nativity story from the Bible, then sing Christmas carols with me accompanying on the piano.
On Christmas Day, Gary and Tara Flynn join us for dinner. It is a tender day for all of us as we remember Brian and other loved ones near and far away.
I have never enjoyed the holidays more. It is the first time I have truly felt the spirit of the season. Surrounded by family and good friends, I cannot ask for a better Christmas.
Twenty-five
It snows frequently in January and February, but I absolutely love Utah in the winter time. Even though the temperature is sometimes freezing, it still feels warmer than the coldest winter in humid North Carolina. I feel great and am no longer experiencing morning sickness, or as I like to call it, 'anytime sickness.' The fatigue has eased up as well. And with each week that passes, I am more content, and eagerly anticipating the birth of our child.
February is almost over, and being halfway through my pregnancy, I am now wearing maternity clothes. Ingo often tells me I'm beautiful and never fails to show me how he feels.
I notice that Ingo has become more protective of me–so much so that he puts off doing things he normally enjoys, preferring to stay home with me. And while I appreciate his concern and enjoy having him home, I feel guilty that he never takes any time for himself. Whenever I suggest that he get out for a bit, he makes an excuse to stay. Though I am grateful for his determination to be here, he needs something to take his mind off me. He needs to do something fun.
March has breezed in and Ingo has yet to indulge in one of his favorite sports–skiing. Concerned about his vitamin-D exposure, as well as his low total on the winter fun-o-meter, I call a couple of his friends, who in turn call Ingo and invite him to go skiing. And as expected, he doesn't want to leave me alone.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, love,” he says, pulling on a flannel shirt. Watching me where I rest on the bed, he buttons his shirt, tucking it into his jeans. “I need to be here in case something should happen.”
Shaking my head, I get up. “Nothing is going to happen, Ingo. Stop worrying so much.”
“I can’t help it.” When I arch a brow, he holds his hands up, already guessing what I'm about to say because he has heard me say it many times. “I know, I know, women have babies all the time, but if something happened while I was gone, I could never forgive myself.”
“I’ll be fine. Honest. It’s just for the afternoon and you really need this time. Besides, I can always call you on your cell if there is an emergency, which I’m sure there won’t be. And if I can’t get you, I can call Wendy at the boutique, or Tara.”
He heaves a resigned sigh. “Are you sure? Because I can– ”
I silence him with a kiss.
“Hmmm,” he growls. “I know I don’t I want to go now.” “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Then I’ll have to hurry back.”
”You do that.”
He is set to leave after lunch. I am in the kitchen packing a bag of snacks for him to take when he pulls me into his arms. “You know, you could go with me. We could purposely get lost in the woods somewhere and try to find ways to keep each other warm until help arrives.”
“We could, but I don’t know if I would want to be found.”
“Me either. But then again, that is the plan.”
I laugh, handing him the bag. “Hold that thought until you get back.”
“Don’t worry, love. I will.”
I kiss him and walk him to the door. “Have a good time.”
“Thanks. I'll try.”
“And don’t worry about me, okay?”
“You’re asking the impossible. But I’ll do my best.”
Kissing him again, I close the door behind him and move to the living room window, watching him get in his car.
He really needs this time.
Ingo starts pulling out of the driveway, looking up as Cisely waves through the front window. At the same moment, an acute ache fills his chest. The pain startles him so, he immediately puts the car in park. Pressing a hand to his chest, he closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, briefly wondering if he is experiencing a heart attack. But when the pain quickly subsides, he figures it must have been some sort of panic attack, probably stemming from worry over Cisely.
“Look at me,” he mutters. “A grown man and I can’t even spend one afternoon away from my wife. Get a grip, Kelly!”
Opening his eyes and looking up at Cisely again, he gets out and trots back into the house. Pullin
g her to him, he holds her close.
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
“I will be fine. I promise. Just go and have a good time.” “Okay.” He kisses her, holding her another moment. “I
love you, Cisely.”
“I know,” she says, cupping his cheek. “I love you, too.” He finally forces himself out the door.
“Are we ready, gentlemen?” Ingo asks, getting off the ski lift, taking in the vast surroundings. The blanket of white is almost blinding but beautiful. Thankfully his goggles are tinted.
“I’m definitely ready,” Ben says. “What do you say, Tim?” “I say the need for speed is about to be satisfied!” Ingo grins at the excited men. They are like eager little
boys let loose in a candy store. He really is glad to have come, despite worrying about Cisely. But she's right. She will be okay until he gets back. Shaking his head, he muses that even though he's tried not to, he really has become a worrier. He can’t understand why. Maybe it's because he never loved anyone until Cisely. She is constantly on his mind, and just the thought of her warms his entire being.
Cisely has been through so much in her life, and everything inside Ingo yearns to keep her heart safe, to never let her be hurt again. Even still, thinking about how far she has come, Ingo knows even if he never had another day with her, his love helped to produce a great work. She knows who she is now, and she knows her worth.
He had smiled as he'd watched couples coming and going earlier while he sat putting on his skis, remembering how he had joked with Cisely about coming with him. Now as he stands in the frigid weather, those thoughts heat him to the core and he doesn’t feel the cold. Looking down at the lodge, a dot in the distance, he decides to bring Cisely up for a few days in the fall, and makes a mental note to make reservations before leaving.
Ingo, Ben and Tim get into position, calling from one to the other, “See you at the bottom!” Then they are off.
Ingo experiences heightened exhilaration with each slice of his skis in the snow. It's a rush he hasn’t experienced in a long time and he is enjoying every second of it. He has always loved skiing and the feeling of freedom it brings. He’d learned to ski as a teenager during their family vacations in Utah and quickly took to it. He smiles as those memories come to mind. His form is perfect and he is feeling pretty confident, his concentration level high.
Then, out of nowhere, the pain he’d felt earlier returns. When it does, his concentration flees.
Sitting on the living room sofa, I mentally study the movements of the little boy inside me. We found out the sex of the baby as soon as we could, and though we would have been just as happy with a girl, we are excited to be having a son first. Ingo says every little girl needs a big brother, so he is sure we will have a girl next time.
Up until now, I have only felt slight flutters here and there, but today I can actually feel him moving around, and it is unlike anything I ever imagined. To feel this life growing inside gives me the ultimate feeling of peace and makes me marvel anew at how truly miraculous and sacred procreation is.
I spend some time reading a maternity magazine and a few pamphlets on childbirth. Some things I have already learned from Tara, but as I read about the phases of labor and delivery, as well as the options available, I decide to take a natural childbirth class and prepare as much as I can. I will discuss it with Ingo when he gets back.
Pulling a folded piece of paper from the desk, I again look over my list of things we will need for the baby’s nursery. We still need to buy a crib and get the bedding. There are already lots of clothes, blankets and diapers, thanks to Ingo’s window shopping sprees and Jessica’s surprise purchases.
My thoughts roam to Jessica. She is in Australia for the month visiting her family. Though she has only been gone for a week, I miss her a great deal. She calls each day to check on me and make sure I'm okay. Between Jessica and Ingo, and even Tara checking on me from time to time, I am covered.
The growl of my stomach reminds me that it's time to eat something. Even though I'm a fairly decent cook, I still miss Jessica’s delicious meals. She usually cooks so much, there are leftovers for days. I wonder if her family is taking advantage of her culinary skills.
Probably.
As I am heading to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. Answering it, I squea1.
“Hello, bella!”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I cry, throwing my arms around Adagio’s neck.
He laughs and embraces me. “Look at you! You look so beautiful!”
“I look big.”
“You are not big, just pregnant. And you still look beautiful.”
“Thank you. Come on in.”
Adagio picks up his suitcase, setting it in the hallway by the stairs.
“So why didn’t you tell us you were coming? I could have gone shopping and prepared something special for dinner.”
“I told Ingo I would be coming one day this week,” he says, squeezing my hand. “He wanted you to be surprised.”
“Well, you both succeeded.”
He grins. “It is so good to see you,” he says, hugging me again. “I have missed you.”
“I've missed you, too. I just wish we could see more of you. I wish you didn’t live so far away.”
“I do, too. But I am on no time table right now, so I can stay until I wear out my welcome.”
“Oh, you could never wear out your welcome.”
“I was hoping you would say that.”
“Ingo went skiing today. He left a couple of hours ago so he might be a while.”
“That's okay. You can keep me company until he gets here.”
I make a couple of mugs of hot chocolate and bring them to the living room where we sit and visit.
“Tara tells me you have dubbed her your personal pregnancy guru.”
“I guess I have,” I confess with a chuckle. “She's fun to talk to. I really enjoy our visits.”
“She does as well. Your friendship means so much to her.”
“She and Gary are pretty amazing people.”
“They are.”
“So, how are things with you?”
“Good. Business is great and the guys in the kitchen tell me I do nothing but take up space.”
“Ha! You see what happens? You teach them your secrets, show them how to cook your coveted dishes and suddenly they can do without you. Good thing you own the place.”
“I know, otherwise I wouldn't be allowed in the kitchen.”
“Probably not. In any case, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“So am I. Besides, you know me. I never pass up an opportunity for free room and board.”
“Well, if there’s one thing we do have plenty of, it’s room and board. We just need more people to fill them.”
“That's what I am here for. But I do plan to earn my keep, so feel free to put me to work at any time.”
“Oh, don’t worry. My request is a pretty simple one.”
“And just what would that request be?”
When I smile he grins. “Aha. I will do my best to take care of your Italian food cravings. Your every wish is my command.” He finishes with a dramatic flourish.
“Thank you. One meal a week should do it. After all, I do have to keep up my domestic duties in the kitchen, or look like I am anyway.”
“I am sure carrying a child is a major domestic duty in itself, but I do want to help out in any way I can. You just say the word and it's as good as done.”
“Well, I can’t let you do too much or there won’t be anything for Ingo to do.”
“And we would not want that, would we?”
“No we wouldn’t, but he might not agree.” I glance at my watch. “You know, I think I’ll call his cell and leave a message telling him you’re here. And when he gets here I’ll give him a sound talking to for not letting me know you were coming.”
“Well, don't be too hard on him. It was partly my fault.”
“Bu
t you’re going to make it up to me with your culinary skills.”
“True,” he agrees.
Just as I reach for the phone the doorbell rings.
“I’ll be right back.”
Looking through the small window on the door, my breath catches. It's Ben Gaylord, and a police officer.
What’s going . . . I don’t finish the thought. Opening the door, I take in Ben’s red eyes and tear streaked face, and my heart lurches.
Twenty-six
Where is Ingo?” Ben opens his mouth but doesn't say anything. He won’t even look at me.
Panic growing, I grab the front of his coat. “Where is Ingo?” I repeat, my voice raising a pitch. I sense Adagio's quiet approach.
It is the policeman who finally speaks. “Mrs. Kelly, I’m sorry to have to inform you that your husband was in a terrible skiing accident a while ago. He didn't make it.”
“What?” I whisper, staring at the two men. “I don’t believe you! It’s not true!”
“It is, Ma’am. I'm so sorry.”
No! This can’t be happening! It cannot be happening!
Adagio gently pulls my hands from Ben’s coat, putting his arm around me. “How?” he asks in a broken voice.
“No one knows what caused it, but he lost control, snowballed, and crashed into a tree coming down a steep slope. He died instantly.”
“No!” he whispers. “Oh, please no.”
The officer holds Ingo’s personal belongings out to me, but I don’t move to take them. I can't. I can’t move or even think. Time has stopped and I'm trapped in a single moment.
As my weight shifts, Adagio adjusts his arm around me. It is the only thing keeping me from falling. I watch him take the bag from the officer. “Thank you,” he says.
“Mr. Kelly has been taken to Cottonwood Hospital. An autopsy will be done as soon as possible. His vehicle is still at the resort and you can pick it up at your leisure. Again I am truly sorry.”
Ben finally raises his eyes to mine. “I’m so sorry,” he sobs. “I'm so sorry.” Then he and the officer leave.
