The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  Taking my hand, Adagio gently draws me back into the house and shuts the door. I think he says he is sorry, I'm not sure, but that is the last thing I hear before the world around me starts spinning and everything goes dark.

  “Cisely!” Tears spill down Adagio's face as he quickly lifts her and carries her up to her room. Though is own heart is ripping in two, he needs to take care of her. With Jessica gone, there is no one else. Reaching her room, he places her on the bed and covers her with a light blanket.

  Noticing a list of numbers on the dresser, he scans it for Ingo’s parents. Finding the number, he takes a deep breath and quickly dials, praying he will get through.

  “Hello,” a male voice answers.

  “Hello. Is this the Kelly residence?”

  “Yes, this is Patrick Kelly.”

  “This is Adagio St. John, Ingo and Cisely’s friend.”

  “Yes, I remember you. Has something happened?”

  “Yes. . . It is about Ingo.”

  Keeping his emotions in check, Adagio tells Patrick about Ingo’s death, and then listens quietly as Ingo’s father weeps softly. He attempts to offer his condolences, but the words sound trite even to his own ears. He hears Patrick’s wife crying in the background and his heart goes out to them both. Patrick tells Adagio they will be there the day after tomorrow. He says to tell Cisely they love her.

  Ending the call, Adagio moves back to Cisely. He presses a hand to her cheek and tucks the blanket around her. Then he wearily sits in the chair across from the bed and silently cries. He can’t believe it. His best friend is gone. How can Ingo be gone? Heart aching, Adagio rocks back and forth, missing him more than mere words could express. Dropping his face in his hands, he thinks back on the conversation he'd had with Ingo last week.

  Ingo had been so excited when Adagio told him he was coming for a visit. They discussed how fun it would be to surprise Cisely. They hadn't decided on a specific day, but the day of his arrival was supposed to be a happy one.

  Adagio futilely wipes at his tears. Losing Ingo is like living a nightmare, only this nightmare is more Cisely’s than his. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubs his temples as the pressure builds in his head.

  Why?

  He knows better than to ask such a pointless question. But just as he wasn't able to stop himself from asking it when Brian died, he can't help it now.

  He looks up as Cisely slowly comes to and moves to the edge of the bed, wanting to be there for her.

  Emerging from a heavy fog, I open my eyes and sit up, thinking I have awakened from a bad dream until I look into Adagio’s red eyes. It all comes rushing back, the policeman's words again echoing in my head.

  “Your husband was in a terrible skiing accident. He didn't make it.”

  Shaking my head in denial, I grip the front of Adagio's shirt. “It's not true, is it? Please tell me it isn’t true!”

  “I wish I could,” he answers, emotion cracking his voice. “But I can't.” Wiping his face, he takes my shoulders in his hands. “He is gone, Cisely.”

  His words are the blow of an anvil and I immediately crumble. Adagio draws me to him, holding me as I cry, rocking me as my sobs grow. The pain is unbearable. I've lost everything and right now I want to die, too. My world has been turned upside down and there is no way to right it. Clinging to each other, I feel more than hear the sobs ripping through him, blending with my agony, making it hard to even breathe.

  What am I going to do without Ingo? I can't go on. He is the only man I have ever loved. We were supposed to grow old together and watch our children grow to raise children of their own. How can those dreams be gone?

  What am I going to do? Oh,God, it hurts! It hurts so much!

  Adagio tightens his arms around me. “Shhh,” he whispers against my ear. “I am here, angel. I am here.”

  My sobs lessening, I finally draw back, taking in his soaked shirt through swollen eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  He gives me a teary smile. “Don't be sorry. I have plenty of shirts. You can cry on them all if you need to.” He hands me a box of tissues from the bedside table.

  I have to admit, I am glad Adagio is here, because I need him. I can't do this alone and I'm grateful for his presence. Blowing my nose, I let my gaze slowly move around the room, taking in all of Ingo’s things. Emotion wells again. “He’s gone. Everything is gone.”

  “Listen to me, Cisely.” He dries my tears with his fingers. “Ingo will always be with you because you will keep his memory alive in your heart.”

  I try to latch on to his comforting words, but it's too hard. Grief blinds me to everything except Ingo’s absence. My husband is never coming back through our door. This is all I know, all I can think about. This is my reality.

  “It hurts so much. I can't stop crying.”

  “Don't stop. Just let go and cry.”

  And I continue to do so as I press my face against his shoulder, sobbing like a lost child. A large chunk has been cut out of my heart, leaving a gaping hole with no way to heal itself. The pain clenching my insides is beyond description.

  Minutes go by before I can speak again.

  “It was my fault. He didn’t want to go skiing because he didn’t want to leave me here alone, but I practically forced him to go. . . I should have let him stay home. If I hadn’t made him go, maybe . . . he would still be here.”

  Drawing back, Adagio presses a gentle hand to my face. “Don't do this to yourself, Cisely. No one is to blame. It was simply his time to go. It is hard for me to say it, to accept it, but I know it is true. It was his time, Cisely.” He closes his eyes, fresh tears falling down his face, his voice growing softer. “It was not your fault. Ingo would not want you to blame yourself.”

  “We didn’t have enough time,” I whisper. “We didn't have enough time together. He was supposed to always be with me, to help me raise our baby.”

  “I know,” he soothes. “No matter how much time we have with someone, it is never enough. But as I reminded Gary and Tara when they lost Brian, you will always have your memories of him and your life together.”

  My heart begrudgingly validates the truth of his words. I will always have treasured memories. But right now this knowledge isn't helping much. I need my husband with me now.

  “I should call Ingo’s parents,” I say with my head against his shoulder. I dread this task. I don’t know how to tell them their son, my husband, is gone. I never imagined having to make such a call.

  “I already called them.”

  I draw back in surprise. “You did?”

  “I didn’t want you to have to worry about it. You have so much to handle already.”

  Tears of gratitude clog my throat. “Thank you.” I ache even more thinking about Patrick and Gloria and what they must be going through having lost their oldest son.

  Adagio wipes my tears once more. “You should lie down and rest.”

  I shake my head. “I need to make other phone calls. Then there are arrangements to be made. I have to . . .”

  “The arrangements can wait until morning, and if you will give me your list, I will make the calls.”

  “I can’t let you do all that.”

  “I am your friend, Cisely. That is what I am here for, to help. And I want to do everything I can to take as much of the burden off of you as possible. I worry for you and the baby. You don't want anything to happen to Ingo’s child. This baby is a gift from him.”

  I realize the importance of his words, but instead of feeling comforted, a fresh batch of pain surfaces. “Oh, Adagio, I love him so much. It hurts . . .”

  “I know,” he soothes. “I don't know how to be without my best friend, either. But you will eventually be okay. We both will, I promise.” He urges me to lie back down, spreading the blanket back over me. “Try to rest. I will call everyone. Where do I find your address book.”

  “In the drawer,” I say, pointing to the bedside table.

  “I will take care of everything.”

  I
reach for his hand. “Thank you.”

  Brushing a wisp of hair from my face, he presses a kiss to my brow. “You are welcome.”

  Closing my eyes, I imagine Ingo lying next to me. I need to feel him near, and I ache for another chance to tell him I love him. One afternoon has completely changed my world. In an instant I have lost everything. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him. I never got to tell him how much joy he brought into my life, how happy he made me.

  “Oh, Ingo, please know how much I love you.” Turning over, I bury my face in Ingo's pillow, breathing in the scent of his after shave and sob until I am exhausted. I drift to sleep, still holding on to his pillow, longing for the comfort of his arms.

  Grabbing the phone, Adagio sits at the desk in the family room, unable to staunch the flow of tears. He misses Ingo desperately and the pain is excruciating. To know he will never see his friend again in this life tears him up inside, but he needs to be strong for Cisely. Swallowing his emotions, he makes the calls.

  Ending his final call with Gary and Tara, he glances out the window. It has grown dark, and realizing it is well past dinner time, his thoughts shift to Cisely. She needs to eat something to keep up her strength for herself and her baby.

  Looking through the refrigerator, he pulls out an assortment of meats and cheeses, as well as some left over cheese and broccoli soup. While the soup is reheating, he makes a sandwich. After pouring a little of the soup into a mug and putting the sandwich on a plate, he mixes a can of frozen orange juice and pours a small glass. Placing it all on a tray, he takes it up to Cisely.

  Adagio quietly opens the bedroom door. Cisely is lying on her back, clutching a pillow, staring up at the ceiling as tears trickle back into her hair. The sight affects him deeply, causing his own eyes to burn again. Clearing his throat, he enters.

  “I brought you something to eat. You need to keep up your strength.”

  She sits up and wipes her eyes. Adagio places the tray over her lap and sits down. She looks down at the food, then at him. “Thank you.” Her voice is hoarse from crying. She probably has no appetite, but even a few bites will be better than nothing.

  “You are welcome.” Watching her take a small bite of the sandwich, he wishes he could say or do something to take away the pain, but only time can do that. The bottom has just dropped out of her world and her pain is too fresh. He will do everything in his power to help her through the times ahead.

  The Flynns and a couple of ladies from the boutique stop by and offer their condolences. They tell me they will coordinate and bring in meals for the entire family for as long as they are here. There are no words to describe how grateful I am for their friendship. It is a comfort to know they care and those things will be taken care of. Right now I can't handle much more.

  After they leave, Adagio holds me for a while in the living room. We talk of Ingo and our love for him and how much we already miss him. It is hard to believe how much my life has changed in a single afternoon. If only I could go back . . .

  I adjust my head on his shoulder. “Earlier today before you came, I was thinking about Gary and Tara and the pain they faced losing their son. I tried to imagine how I would deal with that kind of loss and I couldn’t comprehend it at all. I felt there would be no way I could handle that kind of grief . . . and I prayed I would never have to deal with it.” Shuddering, emotion bubbles to the surface, making it hard to talk. “How can I deal with this? I don’t . . . I don't know how to cope. Oh, Adagio, it’s . . . just too hard.” Burying my face in the folds of his shirt, I absorb his comfort.

  “I know, angel. I can't comprehend how hard this is for you. I only know how much my heart aches, for you and for my friend. He was my brother in spirit and I feel like I have literally lost a brother. But I promise, Cisely, you will make it by taking it one day at a time. We both will.”

  “I miss him so much.”

  “I know,” he croons softly. “I know.”

  Pulling me farther into himself, he holds me and dries my tears until I am too tired to cry anymore. I finally head up to bed to get some rest, though I know sleep will not come easy. Locking the doors and turning off the lights, he follows me up, making sure I am okay.

  Waking up alone–after knowing the bliss of sheltering arms and a familiar warm body–is hard, and it takes everything to make myself get out of bed. I'm not ready to face the day, but there is too much to do.

  Adagio agrees to come with me to make the funeral arrangements. I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. Searching through our personal files, I locate our insurance policies. Looking over Ingo's, I gasp at the amount. When added to the fortune we already have, I can take care of our child and myself for the rest of our lives. Though I am grateful, it does nothing to dull the ache in my heart. I would give it all and more to have my husband back. Given the choice, I would live in a shack with a dirt floor if it meant I could be with Ingo again.

  Sitting in the funeral director’s office, I find it ironic that I am again making arrangements to bury someone. I loved my mother, despite our strained relationship at the time, and I was saddened by her death. But this is different. This time I am literally burying a part of myself.

  A chill in the room causes me to shudder. Adagio takes my hand, warming it between his. Smiling sadly, I lay my head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the feel of his cheek resting against my hair. Closing my eyes, I struggle against the threatening onslaught of tears. I know how much Adagio loved Ingo and I am glad he agreed to come with me. I don’t think I could have handled it alone and I silently absorb the comfort he gives.

  At one point, I am too emotional to answer the director's questions so Adagio speaks for me, making me again grateful for his presence.

  When Ingo’s family arrives, I am showered with hugs, and endless tears are shed. How he will be missed! The world is an emptier place without him, and it is like I was given a priceless gift and told to treasure it above all else, just to have it taken away. I will never get over the loss.

  We spend the day remembering Ingo and the great man he was. Gloria and Patrick are especially grateful to have a grandchild from him.

  The funeral will be held tomorrow. Lying in bed, I ponder the service, hoping I can make it through it. My strength is all but depleted. After hours of staring into the darkness, I am finally able to fall into an exhausted sleep.

  I numbly shake hands and accept hugs from faceless people as they walk by to view Ingo’s body before the service. Each time I gaze down at his handsome face, I wonder how I will ever make it through this life without him. He had been everything to me, making me feel valued and treasured for the first time in my life, and his unconditional love had healed my battered heart. For a moment, I'd had it all.

  Now here I am, alone again, gazing down into the still face of the man who gave me the world.

  Oh, God, why did you have to take him? We didn't even have a whole year together. Why?

  With a great deal of effort, I am able to shut my emotions down long enough to get through the services and the rest of the afternoon. But tonight as I lay in bed in our dark room, emotion floods through me with force, and I again curl myself into a ball and weep, desperately longing for the comfort of my husband’s arms.

  Twenty-seven

  When Ingo’s family finally leaves, it is hard for Cisely to say goodbye because their presence helps her feel closer to Ingo.

  Jessica cuts her vacation with the family short to stay home with Cisely. She too, is still deep in grief. Losing Ingo was like losing her own child and the pain is sometimes more than she can bear.

  Through the week, Jessica manages to be strong for Cisely most of the time, but sometimes her emotions get the better of her, making her grateful for Adagio’s presence. His being there for Cisely allows her the opportunity to retreat and deal with her sorrow.

  Adagio takes an extended leave from his restaurant. There are enough chefs on the payroll to cover the few shifts he works and he has compl
ete faith in his management staff. He gives Sam Cisely’s number just in case he can't reach him on his cell. Sam and the rest of the staff are deeply saddened by the news of Ingo's death and send Cisely their condolences along with a large flower arrangement.

  Adagio moves into a room downtown so Cisely can adjust to life without her husband. He knows it will be hard for her being alone, but with time it will get easier. However, he is always there whenever she needs him. His hotel is only a few minutes away. All she has to do is call and he is there.

  Twenty-eight

  April brings longed-for sun and warmth. As the weeks pass, Adagio coaxes me out of the house a little, even if just for walks around the block. The past month has been one of the hardest times I've ever faced in my life, including the painful years as a child. This time the pain hasn’t been brought on by the cruel choices of others, but by life. This pain is far worse.

  Taking life one day at a time, I manage my grief. Some days I don’t know if I will make it to the next one, or if I even want to. I have never felt so alone. Sometimes the grief makes it hard to function when it comes to even the most basic things. But somehow I make it through these times. I have no choice. It is either endure or die, so I endure.

  Occasionally I enter my bedroom and take in the spaces where Ingo’s personal things had been. At these times I miss him more than I can say, and even the absence of his personal belongings hurts deeply. But it is becoming a little more bearable.

  I frequently sit on the bed, wrapped in one of the few shirts I kept of Ingo's, and remember the love we shared here. My mind wanders to the little things Ingo did for me each day. From serving me breakfast in bed to bringing me flowers, to just simply sitting with me, holding me or or rubbing my back. I miss these things more than I believed possible. I just miss him. But through it all, I endure.

  There are also times when I still need to cry on Adagio’s shoulder. When the pain becomes too much to bear, he is always more than willing to let me and comforts me in any way he can. He understands better than anyone what I am going through and is always able to reach me somehow. I know he is putting his life on hold for me, but I couldn't get through this without him.