by ADAMS, J.
I depend on Adagio for his strength, and words could never describe how grateful I am that he came when he did. I often think of that fateful day and marvel that he was here when I received the most painful news of my life. Had I been alone, I honestly don't think I could have handled it.
Thinking on these things often, I consider them tender mercies.
Adagio arrives at Cisely’s around noon to find she hasn’t come down from her room all morning. Jessica tells him Cisely hasn’t eaten and she is worried about her. Adagio’s concern for her overrides everything else. Immediately heading to the kitchen, he puts together a sandwich and a salad and takes it up to her. Knocking softly, he opens the door a little.
Cisely is dressed and sitting on the bed, her back against the pillows. She turns as he enters.
“I brought you something to eat.”
“I’m not really hungry.” Her voice is flat, devoid of emotion.
“But the baby probably is. You need to eat for him. He depends on you.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he places the tray over her lap. “Please, Cisely.”
Her mouth curves in a sad smile, her eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry, Adagio. I don’t mean to worry you and I appreciate you thinking of me. I guess I’m just having a hard time today . . . again.”
He takes the tray, placing it on the floor. Reaching for her hand, he wipes her tears. “I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. Some days I think I’m doing okay. Other days . . .”
“Other days, you need a little help.”
“Truthfully, some days I feel like a basket case and you and Jessica are my only link to sanity.”
Pressing a hand to her cheek, he brushes a tear away with his thumb. “You are not a basket case. You are a woman who lost her husband a month and a half ago and you are still grieving. And that's okay. It is normal. If you were not still struggling, then I would worry.”
She smiles again, placing her hand over his. “I’m really glad you're here, and I'm grateful for all you have done for me, but I can’t help feeling a little guilty and selfish. I worry about you putting your life on hold for me.”
“You are definitely not selfish, and my life is not on hold, it is just a different life for now. Everything is fine at home with the restaurant and I really don't worry about it. I am happy here because I know this is where I need to be right now. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. So please don't worry about that.”
Leaning forward, Cisely rests her cheek against his shoulder and he wraps an arm around her.
“You know,” she says, her voice somber, “sometimes I imagine I hear Ingo's voice inside my mind. I hear him saying, “Count your blessings, love. Just keep counting your blessings and you will be fine.””
“That does sound like something Ingo would say.”
She nods, adjusting her head on his shoulder. “I'm going to try harder to do that.”
“I think that is a good idea.”
She is quiet for a moment, then surprises him by saying, “I count you as one of my blessings.”
“I am glad to be someone's blessing,” he says, kissing her forehead. He is both humbled and grateful she feels that way.
“Thank you for being so good to me,” she says after a moment.
Drawing back slightly, he looks into her eyes. “You are easy to be good to. And I meant what I said. Don't worry about me. I am happy to be here. All right?”
“Okay. And I promise I’ll force myself to eat from now on, even when I don’t feel like it.”
“That's my girl.” He places the tray back over her lap. “Maybe when you are finished we could take a walk and get out for a bit today. We could even go sit in the park.”
“I would like that. Jessica told me the gardens are beautiful right now. I’ve always loved looking at the flowers there.”
“Then we will go.”
Cisely takes a bite of the sandwich and smiles. He smiles back, happy to be with her. It feels nice to be needed by someone. His eyes brighten. “Oh, I have a surprise for you.”
“Really? I love surprises.”
“I know. You keep eating and I will be back.” Running out to his car, he returns a minute later with a wrapped package and promptly places it on the bed.
“Adagio, what did you do?”
“I just saw this the other day and wanted to get it for you.”
“But it’s not my birthday or anything.”
“Who says you need a reason to receive a gift?”
“I think you’re spoiling me too much.”
His expression grows serious because she couldn't be more wrong. “That is not possible, Cisely. You deserve to be spoiled.” Moving the tray from her lap, he places the gift in its place. “Open it.”
An anxious grin practically splits his face and she laughs. “Oh, all right.” He watches her carefully remove the wrapping paper.
“Oh, Adagio, it’s beautiful!” The porcelain doll looks angelic dressed in white velvet. “I’ve only had one other doll in my life, and that was when I was five.” Holding the doll up, she takes in the delicate features. “I absolutely love it.” She kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” he says, pleased she likes it. Cisely is constantly in his thoughts, and anything he can do to bring a smile to her face is worth it. It seems that making her smile is his mission these days, and each time he succeeds, it pleases him immensely.
“Thank you so much for everything.”
“You are welcome. I would do anything for you.”
Twenty-nine
Adagio and Cisely relax on a wooden bench beneath a large walnut tree and watch some children on the playground in the distance. A soft breeze rustles the leaves on the trees and pigeons coo to one another as they snatch up the bread crumbs they toss their way. Even with the distant sounds of downtown in the background, their surroundings are peaceful.
“You’ve been away from home so long,” Cisely comments. “Do you have someone looking after your house for you?”
“I have a cleaning lady named Anna who comes in twice a week. She has a key and keeps an eye on things for me. Her son is one of my chefs, so she is very trustworthy.”
“It’s good your work is at home. You have lots of eyes watching out for you that way.”
Smiling, Adagio turns his emerald gaze to her, taking in the highlights of her dark auburn hair. He understands why she is making these comments and can almost read her thoughts. “Ingo used to say you are too noble for your own good sometimes.”
She smiles. “He said that to me, too.”
“He was right. I see that now.” He catches her chin in his hand. “Cisely, look at me.” When her eyes meet his, he says, “Please stop worrying. Everything is fine at home.”
“I can’t help it.”
He takes her hand and squeezes. “You are going to have to help it, because you are not getting rid of me.”
She gives him a slow grin. “Is that a threat?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, then.”
That is the last she says on the subject and he hopes she truly understands. He isn't going anywhere. He is where he's supposed to be.
Adagio helps out by cooking dinner for us a couple of extra days a week. I have grown to love his cooking, even crave it. Romano's Macaroni Grill has always been my favorite place to eat because I love Italian food, but now my favorite meals are the ones Adagio cooks. His meals are amazing. He believes in variety and never cooks a dish the same way twice, and I love each and every meal.
Adagio usually gives us a mini Italian lesson, pretending to be an eccentric cooking instructor, and by the time he is finished, Jessica and I are holding our sides from laughing so hard. Whenever I improvise my speaking of the language and try to match his Italian accent, it sends him into fits of laughter as well. Because of these times, we are slowly building some joyful memories.
I also cook some Italian meals, with Adagio’s assistance, of course. When a dish turns out well, h
e praises me. When it turns out not so good, he still gives me an A for effort, and he and Jessica eat it anyway. This is definitely the sign of a good friend–to eat a terrible meal without complaint.
At night Jessica and Adagio visit while I play the piano softly. I had all but stopped playing when Ingo died, but Adagio coaxed me into playing again. He knows how much I love playing and I'm grateful for the extra push.
During our visits, Adagio and I grow to learn more about each others lives as we open up and share experiences from our pasts, as well as our hopes and fears for the future. In the process, our mutual admiration grows, as well as the bond we share. We talk of Ingo often and the impact he had on our lives. We share our own private stories of him, some of them producing bouts of laughter, and others bringing bittersweet tears. But even the tearful moments are a little easier because we have each other to lean on. I am really grateful for that.
Jessica is also glad Adagio is here and appreciates the support he gives her. His strength is a boon and his presence brings great comfort. She will miss him when he finally returns to Italy.
And so will I.
Thirty
Having cleaned up after another sumptuous meal prepared by Adagio, we relax in the family room. Adagio is in a spontaneous mood and says some fun time is in order. Pulling a Latin music CD from the shelf, he puts it in the player.
As the music fills the room, I start snapping my fingers, the beat moving through me. If there is one thing I love, it's dancing. Adagio grins, holding his hands out to both Jessica and me.
“Come. Let me teach you ladies how to salsa.” Jessica claps her hands and quickly stands. “I'm game!” I laugh. “I'm a little too big to salsa. I would be a terrible
student right now.”
“Nonsense,” he says, not about to let me off the hook. “I
told you, you are not big, just pregnant. You will do great.” He
takes my hand, gently pulling me up.
“Okay,” I concede with a sigh. “They're your toes on the
line. Pregnancy has given me two left feet.”
He laughs and stands between us, teaching us the basic
steps. He is very good. In fact, I'm surprised by how good he
really is. I knew he was a great dancer, but his salsa is amazing.
I quickly catch on, surprising myself, and soon Adagio and I are
dancing like a couple in a club. Jessica is a little slower catching
on, but she eventually gets it and is thoroughly enjoying herself. “Very good!” Adagio says to me. He teaches me a couple
of other Latin dances and I pick the steps up quickly. “You're a natural,” he says, turning me around and back.
He praises Jessica as well.
I am completely enjoying myself. I love the exercise and
dancing always makes my spirits soar. I haven't enjoyed dancing
so much since . . .
My thoughts immediately shift to the last time I danced
with Ingo. It was on New Years Eve, and we danced in this
very room. Suddenly the memory is so vivid, it is like it just
happened yesterday.
“I think I'm done,” I say, backing away from him. I
quickly smile to hide my sudden shift of emotions and feign
exhaustion.
He looks at me intently, his eyes full of understanding. I
can't hide anything from him. He knows me well and I'm sure
he glimpsed the pain.
“You rest,” he says, gently letting me off the hook. “I will
keep my other lovely partner up here a little longer.” He grins
at Jessica and she laughs, still moving a little to the beat. At the song's end Jessica declares she has had enough and
heads to the kitchen for a drink of water. Adagio congratulates
her on a job well done. Turning the stereo off, he sits on the
sofa next to me.
I want to apologize to him for letting my emotions get in
the way. I open my mouth to do that when he squeezes my
hand and says, “One day at a time, angel. Just take it one day at
a time.”
Awakening in a cold sweat, I sit up, glancing at the clock.
It is just after one in the morning.
The nightmares have started again. The haunting dreams
of my childhood are back, though not as frequent as they were
before. Still, the fact that I am having them again is disturbing,
and I wish I knew why the memories continue to plague me. I
let my head fall back against the damp pillow and wipe a hand
across my forehead. Night time is still hard for me because it is
when I feel most alone, and on these nights it is even worse.
The bed feels cold and empty, no matter how much I snuggle
into the covers.
I miss having warm arms to curl into, a strong heartbeat
against my ear to lull me to sleep. I miss whispered
conversations in the dark and the security of muscular limbs
draped possessively around me. I miss waking and not being
alone.
I stare up into the darkness, feeling exactly that–alone.
Fingering my wedding rings, I close my eyes and pray for
comfort. Eventually comfort does comes and I drift back to
sleep, praying the dreams will leave me again and never come
back.
Adagio decides that I need an evening out. When he arrives at my house, he asks to treat me to dinner and I accept. Other than going for walks around the neighborhood and to the park, I really haven't gone anywhere, and instead of eating out, I usually order take-out and have it delivered. It will be nice to go somewhere else for a while.
As he pulls out of the driveway, he tells me the restaurant is my choice. He hadn’t made any definite plans, deciding to play it by ear.
“You really don’t care where we eat?” I ask.
“Not at all. We can go wherever you want.”
“Well, in that case, I would like a burger. The biggest,
sloppiest burger we can find.” Adagio glances at me. “Really?” he says, grinning. “You want a burger?”
I nod, laughing at the incredulous look on his face. “The bigger and messier, the better.”
“Hmmm. All right, if a burger is what you want, a burger is what you shall have. You just point the way.”
A little while later, we are sitting in Lucky 13 Bar and Grill with two Double Double burgers in front of us along with a basket of beer-battered onion rings. While Adagio studies his burger, I dig right in.
“Oooh, this is so good. Thank you for bringing me here.”
It takes him a moment to chew the large bite before he can respond. “You are very welcome. And you were right, this is pretty good. I must say though, I have never had a burger that forced me to stretch my mouth so wide.”
I laugh. “Neither have I. The last time I came here, the most I could eat was a regular burger.”
“Well, you are eating for two now. I guess the baby will digest half of it.”
“I think you’re right. And I know I'll probably pay for this later on tonight when heartburn sets in.”
“But right now it is worth it to you, right?”
“Exactly.”
“So tell me, what other secret cravings have you been experiencing?” His tone is teasing.
“Well, now that you asked, I could really go for a hot fudge sundae with lots of nuts and pineapple.”
He shakes his head, laughing softly. “Well, I did say your every wish is my command. When we are done here, I will search the city until we acquire a hot fudge sundae for you. How does that sound?”
“Mmmm, sounds wonderful. I think you're spoiling me. If you keep this up I won’t ever let you go back home.”
Looking into my eyes, he gives me a slow smile that makes my face war
m. “Then maybe I will stay.”
Shyly returning his smile, I blame the familiar skip of my heart on the baby’s movements. It can’t be anything else.
Turning his attention back to his meal, Adagio tries to ignore the jolt of emotion Cisely's innocent comment stirred. And why did I just say that?
They continue to eat, filling the silence between them every now and then with comfortable conversation about life in general, as well as the various things she still needs to do to prepare for the baby.
“How much more shopping do you need to do?” he asks. “Not too much more. I just need to pick up more disposable and cloth diapers, a baby monitor, bath products. Just small things like that. I can get the crib and other furniture next month.”
“Well, maybe we can stop by the Target we passed and pick up some things.”
“You don't mind baby shopping?”
“Not at all. I am actually a fabulous shopper. Been doing
it for years.” He grins and winks, making her laugh, which is what he'd intended.
“You do seem capable,” she says.
“I have yet to meet a cashier who doesn't want to take my money, no matter how horrible the tie is I'm buying or how atrocious the china pattern I've picked out is.”
She snorts. “Are you sure I should be taking you with me?”
“Of course. I am very good at picking out things.” He feigns confusion. “Checks do go with stripes, right?” He winks again.
“This will be very interesting.” Having finished her meal, she leans back in the chair, rubbing her stomach. “I can’t believe I really ate it all.”
“I can't either,” he says, popping the last of the burger into his mouth.
“I still say it was worth the coming heartburn.”
“In this instance, I agree.” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he leans back in his chair, studying her content smile. “So, do you still have room for a sundae?”
“Definitely. There’s always room for anything with chocolate.” She massages her stomach a bit, causing the baby to shift. “See? Instant room.”
