The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  “It was awesome,” Phillip answers. He tells Mali he will see her later and follows Adagio to help him with a project. Mali heads to the kitchen to wash the empty containers their lunch had been packed in.

  “Well, hello there,” Cisely says, standing at the stove, stirring the sauce she is preparing for dinner.”

  “Hi, Aunt Cisely. Thanks again for fixing lunch for us.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Covering the pan, Cisely walks over to the sink and puts an arm around Mali’s shoulders. “Are you still enjoying yourself?”

  “Definitely. I told Phillip I can’t remember ever having so much fun. This is the best summer I’ve ever had.”

  “Good. We’ll have to have you back next year, if you would like to come.”

  “I would,” Mali says eagerly. “It would be great!”

  “I think so, too. I’ll talk to your mom about it in a couple of months. Maybe we could even get her to come next time.”

  “I hope so. I think Mom would really like it here.” Her expression is suddenly sad.

  “What is it?” Cisely asks, squeezing her shoulder.

  Mali turns away as guilt over her father leaving fills her heart. It resurfaces whenever she thinks of her mother being home alone. She wishes she could make things the way they once were, that she could take back the things that were said between herself and her father. If she had only kept her mouth shut, her parents would still be together. But there is really nothing she can do now to change any of it.

  “Mali,” Cisely presses. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she answers, forcing a smile. “Do you think we could go shopping tomorrow? I would like to find something special for Mom.”

  “I think we could manage that. I never turn down an opportunity to go shopping.”

  “Neither does my mom,” Mali says with a smile that isn’t forced.

  “We’ll make it a girl’s day and have lunch out. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “All right. Why don’t you go and make a list of some things she might like and I’ll let Adagio know our plans.”

  “Okay.” She takes a few steps, then turns back and hugs Cisely. “Thank you, Aunt Cisely.”

  Smiling, Cisely returns her embrace. “You’re welcome.”

  Mali grins and heads to her room.

  Indulging in our evening ritual, Adagio and I sit on the veranda, watching the sunset while I share my plans for tomorrow with him.

  “It sounds like you ladies are going to have a good time.” “I hope so. Mali really needs this. I think she’s been pretty happy here, but I can still tell when the memories get her down. I hope she can soon heal enough to deal with her parent’s divorce and move on.”

  “She will, amore. She is still young and it will take time, but I think eventually she will be fine.”

  I smile, squeezing his hand. “I love you.”

  Adagio gently pulls me from my chair onto his lap. “I love you, too. I love that you care so much about everyone.”

  I press a hand to his face, caressing his lips. “You always give me more credit than I deserve.” Touching my lips to his, I kiss him slowly, relishing the feel of his arms around me. Each kiss we share conveys a thousand words and feelings. We literally merge in every aspect of our life, and it always amazes us both how well we seem to know each others thoughts, and how deeply we are connected. That emotional connection grows stronger with each bit of time that passes.

  Adagio draws back slowly, looking into my eyes. “I think we are due for some time alone.” He gently runs his fingers down through my long ponytail. “How would you feel about getting away for a few days after Mali leaves?”

  “It sounds wonderful,” I agree. I treasure the time we are able to spend alone together. “As a matter of fact, I had been thinking about how much fun it would be to go back to Tuscany. Could we go there for a few days?”

  “We can go anywhere you want. I will make the arrangements tomorrow.”

  “And I’ll ask Anna if the kids can stay with her family. I know Sadie and Peter would be happy to keep them, but I’m afraid it would be too much for her, being so far along in her pregnancy.”

  “I think you are right. Besides, they probably have their hands full already with little Joshua, even if they won't admit it.”

  “He really is a ball of energy,” I say, thinking of Sadie and Peter’s two year old son and the miracle he is.

  After being married for three years and not being able to conceive, Sadie had begun to give up hope of ever having a baby. When she did finally become pregnant, she and Peter were ecstatic. And now their new little one is due in a couple of months.

  When little Joshua was born, Peter’s mother Helen was there to help. Sadly, during Sadie’s third month of pregnancy with the baby she now carries, Helen passed away after a year long battle with breast cancer. Peter and Sadie still miss her and occasionally still struggle with her loss, but they are getting better.

  I often visit Sadie and do what I can to help when Peter is working. When he isn’t working, he is always by his wife’s side. Since Peter is also Sadie’s physician, she is getting the best care possible. As far as Sadie is concerned, there isn't a better doctor than her husband.

  “I think I’ll give her a call and see how she’s doing,” I finally say, drawn from my thoughts by Adagio.

  “Mmm hmmm,” he murmurs, as his mouth thoroughly explores my neck. Sighing, my eyes slip shut as warmth spreads through me. I press my hands into his hair as his kisses sear a burning path up my cheek and his lips finally capture mine. We are lost in one another for some time before he finally draws back slightly and his raspy voice whispers, “You can call her later, amore.”

  I draw him back to me, my desire matching his. “What about the children?”

  “They are playing video games. They will never miss us.” He smiles against my mouth, then stands, taking my hand in his and I follow.

  The whole house is asleep, but I am awake. For some strange reason I can't seem to fall asleep, and the harder I try, the more anxious I feel. I quietly get out of bed, put on my robe, and go downstairs.

  Entering the kitchen, I walk over to the sink and flip on the under-cupboard light. I take a small glass from the cabinet to get a drink of water. Taking a few swallows, I set the glass in the sink, pausing a moment to straighten a framed floral print hanging on the wall above the sink. I stand motionless for another moment, trying to figure out why I am so restless. There aren't any pressing issues or problems filling my thoughts, and for the moment, my mind is basically stress and worry free. Normally if I can't sleep, these are some of the reasons, but not tonight.

  I move to the patio door and stare out into the night. Sighing, I walk out onto the patio and down the steps. Standing on the cool grass, I lift my eyes to the clear sky and gaze at the stars, marveling at their brightness and beauty. I am continually amazed by God's handiwork and the many undisputed evidences of His existence.

  Keeping my face raised toward the heavens, I close my eyes and relish the soft breeze gently lifting my hair. Taking in the sensation, I imagine Adagio's gentle hands caressing my hair because it feels so similar. Even in nature I am connected to him. He is the very air I breathe, the life force that keeps me going. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I try to calm the sudden rush of emotion entering me as thoughts of my husband fill my mind. At once, various memories of our life together slowly consume my every sense. Warm tears fill my eyes and roll down my face as I relive treasured moments, and I'm again awed by the life I have been given.

  Staring up at the moon, memories the drive Adagio and I took last week through the Dolomite mountains fill my mind. We stopped in a few of the small country villages to shop, then had a picnic in a secluded area. We spent those peaceful moments eating calzone and cheesecake, and talking about our children. The rest were spent in each other's arms. Oh, how I love being in his arms!

  Brushing the tears a
way, I wonder where this strong bout of emotion is coming from, and why it is hitting me at this time of night. Lightly pressing a hand over my heart, another feeling hits me, almost as if I'm experiencing some sort of premonition. There's another storm coming, my mind whispers. The thought isn't as disturbing as it has been before. We have been through many trials and have always handled them together. The feeling does however, bring about a sudden need to be with my husband. Closing my eyes once more, I breathe the night air in deeply.

  As I turn to go back into the house, the patio door opens and Adagio walks out.

  When Adagio had awakened and found Cisely gone, he immediately went in search of her. Now, as he watches her standing barefoot in the grass, the silky white gown billowing around her slender form, her auburn hair shimmering in the moonlight, it is as if he's stumbled across an angel. He opens his mouth to ask her if she is all right, but the look in her eyes stops him.

  Standing on the lawn gazing at my husband, I find I can't move. I watch him as he silently walks down the steps, my heart beating faster with each step he takes, and I am quickly filled with an intense longing for him, one that is so strong, I can hardly breathe.

  By the time Adagio reaches her, his heart is pounding as well. Something is happening. He doesn't know what, but looking into her eyes, he feels it. Maybe that is why he had awakened. They are so in tune with one another, he can almost feel what she is feeling. And what he's experiencing now is something beyond description. Reaching out, he brushes a tear from her cheek and takes her trembling shoulders in his hands.

  “Amore,” he breathes. With that one softly spoken word, she is in his arms. They fuse together, almost as if their souls are merging. Their kisses are frenzied and desperate, each touch of his mouth to hers stoking the fiery passion that is raging to consuming proportions. He marvels anew at the taste of her kiss, her softness and warmth. He finally draws back and again wipes the tears from her face.

  Cisely stares into his tear-filled eyes. “I love you so much,” she whispers emotionally.

  “I love you,” he breathes, lifting her in his arms.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clings to him. Feeling the desperation of her embrace and warmed by the burning desire in her eyes, he kisses her again and carries her back into the house.

  Eighty-nine

  I thoroughly enjoy my outing with Mali and quickly dub the young woman a shopping queen. We spend the bulk of our time in Coin department store. I've always thought of it as Italy's version of Macy's because a lot of the name brand merchandise is discounted. After helping Mali find something for her mother, I buy Mali a new outfit and treat myself to one as well. I also purchase a few shirts for Adagio and some gifts for the rest of the children.

  We have lunch at a pizzeria in downtown Treviso. The beautiful bustling area is one of my favorite places to eat during the warmer seasons.

  I listen as Mali chatters on excitedly about when she will wear her new clothes. As I take in the innocence of her simple musings, my thoughts drift back to when I was twelve. For me, there were no such conversations. There were no worries over wardrobe or fashion. No sleepover parties or innocent talks about boys or secret crushes. No hair styling sessions with friends on the weekends or passing notes back and forth in class. No such innocence existed for me at that age. I never really had the chance to be a child. I was forced to grow up fast, too fast.

  Even still, looking at the beautiful young woman before me now, I feel fortunate to be her friend, and blessed to be a part of her life, to bask in her innocence.

  “Excuse me?” I say as a deep male voice breaks into my thoughts.

  “I was just wondering if you ladies would care for anything else.”

  “No, thank you. I think that will be all.”

  The young waiter smiles, his eyes never leaving my face. “In that case, I will be right back with your check.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  After hovering for another few seconds, he finally pulls his eyes from me and leaves.

  Mali watches the waiter glancing back again at Cisely. “I've really enjoyed today,” Cisely says.

  “Me, too.”

  “Shopping is definitely one of my favorite things.” Mali is about to respond when the waiter returns. She

  silently watches him give Cisely the check, his smiling eyes once again never leaving her face. Though she can't completely understand what he is saying, she does understand his actions. He continues to turn on the charm as Cisely takes money from her purse and pays him.

  “Thank you. It has been a pleasure serving you.” “Well, thank you. We enjoyed our meal very much.” The young waiter moves back as Cisely stands, his dark

  eyes raking over her body. He adds in impressive English, “I hope I can serve you ladies again.”

  I bet you do, Mali thinks.

  I am puzzled by Mali’s expression as we walk to the car. “Are you okay?” I ask, touching her shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” she says, lowering her eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  Reaching the car, Mali finally looks at me. “Doesn’t it

  bother you to have other guys looking at you like that?” Where did that come from? “No, Mali. It doesn’t bother me because I usually ignore it. The only looks that matter to me are the ones my husband gives me.”

  “I’ll bet if Uncle Adagio had been with us, that guy wouldn’t have been looking at you like that.”

  “Sometimes it happens even when Adagio is with me,” I say, confused by Mali's reaction. “He just smiles when it does.”

  “Why?” Mali asks. I hear frustration in her voice. “Why doesn’t he say something to the guys when they do that?”

  I take her hand, keeping my voice gentle yet firm. “Mali, people have the right to look at others if they want. It’s normal and it happens every day. Every now and again I do notice when men look at me, like today, even when Adagio is with me. But Adagio knows he owns my heart. He’s the only man that matters to me.”

  When Mali’s expression doesn’t change, I decide I will definitely have to talk to her about these feelings later. She is holding something in, something very painful. I change the subject for now. “Would you like to go anywhere else? We can stop at a few more shops if you’d like, maybe have some gelato.”

  Mali shakes her head. “Can we just go back home now?”

  “If that’s what you want,” I answer. “We will have to do this again before you go home. We can make another day of it.”

  “Okay.” Her voice is devoid of enthusiasm.

  The drive home is silent. When we enter the house, Mali absently thanks me for taking her, then takes her bags up to her room, leaving me staring after her pondering what happened. I wish I understood.

  Taking another moment to contemplate the afternoon, I seek out the children and give them the gifts I bought them. Phillip tells me their father is at the restaurant and will be back in a few minutes, so I take the rest of the things up to our room and wait for him. I place everything on the bed, pausing to touch the silk shirts I purchased for Adagio. I'm sure they will look good on him. Of course to me, everything looks good on him.

  Walking over to the large window, I stare out over the land as thoughts of Mali fill my mind.

  It is obvious the waiter’s attention to me had truly bothered Mali. I only wish I knew what is going on inside the young girl’s heart. If I could only figure out a way to reach her.

  Maybe she will talk to Phillip . . . Probably not.

  Mali and Phillip are close, but even as close as they are, there are still things she isn’t likely to share even with him. Phillip and I have shared many conversations about Mali. I've tried to offer him advice and insight, but I am sometimes at as much of a lost as he is. What I do know for sure is somehow Mali will be a part of our future, a very important part. I feel it deep in my heart.

  I turn and smile as Adagio enters the room.

  “How was your day out with Mali?” h
e asks, pulling me close.

  “It was great. We had a fun time together.”

  “What is bothering you, amore?”

  How does he do that? I sigh, shaking my head. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “How do you always know when something is bothering me?”

  He smiles and touches my chin. “Because I know you.”

  “Phillip is taking after you, you know.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Most definitely.”

  Taking my hand, he guides me over to the sofa. “So, tell me what is wrong.”

  “I’m just worried about Mali.”

  “Why? I thought she was doing okay.”

  “I thought she was, too, but after today I’m not so sure.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, it’s not so much what happened, but how she reacted. We were having lunch and everything seemed to be fine. The young waiter started paying a little too much attention to me.”

  Adagio grins slowly. “There is nothing unusual about that, angel. It happens every time we are out together. It can't be helped.”

  I smile, grateful that he thinks I'm beautiful. “Today is one day I wish it could have been helped.”

  “Why? What happened.”

  “Well, I ignored it as usual, but the waiter’s attention upset Mali a great deal. I noticed the way she watched him, but I didn’t really think anything of it. She commented about it when we reached the car. I told her it didn’t matter to me what other men thought and you were the only man that mattered. After that, she seemed to close up. I know these feelings are somehow connected to her parent’s breakup.”

  “I am sure you are right. Did she say anything else after that?”

  “No. She was quiet the rest of the way home. When we got here she went straight to her room.” I sigh, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I just wish I could get her to open up to me. I think it would help if she did.”

  He presses a hand to my cheek. “You will, baby. I know you will find a way somehow.”