The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  I squeeze her hand. “Well, not being a part of your life is his loss, isn't it? And your mother's as well.”

  Andrea doesn't respond. She smiles sadly and returns her attention to the chart. Her eyes move up to her grandmother's name, her eyes melancholy. I can tell she still misses her. Her finger moves up to the name of her great-grandmother. “My grandmother wasn't too close to her mother.”

  “Do you know why?” I ask.

  “Well, she said it was because she was a hateful woman who spent her whole life being judgmental of others and was just basically a miserable person.” She pauses, becoming thoughtful. “My grandmother thought her mother was probably that way because of her own parents.”

  Adagio sighs. “If that is true, then how sad for them.”

  Andrea nods. “You know, my grandmother even mentioned something about her mother having a sister that the family had basically disowned. She never knew why.”

  Adagio and I shake our head's sadly. Looking into his eyes, I know he's thinking about my past trials with my own family. Life is just too short to hold onto grudges.

  “Did your great-grandmother ever tell your grandmother what happened to her sister?” he asks.

  “Not really. She just said she married some Hawaiian guy and moved away. I don't think anybody heard from her after that.”

  I study Andrea's features. Her look is subtly exotic. “Forgive me, but would you mind if I asked you what your race is?”

  “No,” Andrea answers. “I inherited my Cherokee blood from my mother. As for my father, I couldn't tell you what race he is. He had to have been dark though. Maybe black. Who knows.”

  “God knows,” Adagio says. “And as diligently as you are researching your family, I'm sure you will find out one day as well.”

  “I hope so, because deep down I have always wondered.”

  Adagio finally checks the time and decides we had better get going if we want to get over to Jacob's in time for dinner. As we stand, Adagio and I embrace Andrea and tell her how grateful we are to have her in our lives.

  “I feel like you are my family now,” Andrea says smiling through misty eyes. “I'm really going to miss you. Since meeting you, I haven't felt alone in the world.”

  “You never will be,” I tell her. “We will always be thinking of you. Maybe you can even come and visit us one day soon. We'll even foot the bill.”

  “I would like that,” she says with a smile.

  We have no idea, however, as we leave Andrea's that pieces are about to be connected, which will complete a puzzle that will give new depth to our lives.

  One hundred-five

  We enjoy the delicious dinner Jacob prepared. He had informed us earlier that it is actually a going away dinner for us and told us how much we will be missed. We will miss him as well.

  We repeatedly compliment Jacob on his cooking. Southern cooking is something neither of us have ever been able to quite master, even though I was born and raised here. Jacob tells us he learned everything he knows about cooking from his mother, and since he's hasn't had anyone but himself to cook for since she died, he's had plenty of time to practice. He is happy to see us enjoying it so much.

  We dine on breaded catfish, garlic potatoes, green beans flavored with bits of ham, and cornbread. Dessert is pecan pie and bread pudding. I can't help smiling as I watch my husband mentally taking notes of how everything is prepared, and I am sure he will be asking Jacob for his recipes before the night ends.

  “I can't believe you've never been married,” Andrea says, taking another bite of the fish. “You would make some lucky woman very happy.”

  Jacob smiles, his expression thoughtful. “I came close to being married once, but . . . it didn't work out. It turned out that we were more different than I'd realized, and we didn't want the same things–like me wanting to get married and her not wanting to be tied down.”

  “Well,” Andrea says, “she didn't know how good she had it.”

  “Thank you,” he says, smiling shyly.

  “Have you lived here all your life?” I ask.

  “No. My mother and I moved here when I was eight.”

  “Where did you move from?” Adagio asked.

  “Charlotte.”

  “Really? I lived in Charlotte when I was young, too. I have never been back.”

  “I. haven't, either. I've heard it has grown a lot though.”

  “I'm sure it has. Of course, I thought Charlotte was big when I was young.”

  Jacob chuckles. “Everything seems bigger at that age.”

  “This is true” I say, grinning. “What made your mother decide to move here?”

  “Well, actually, she never would tell me. I mean, many years later she did, but during the time it was happening, she just said she wanted to start out fresh somewhere else. So she moved us here.”

  “She must have been going through a rough time,” Adagio says, spooning more potatoes onto his plate.

  “She was. And I learned just how rough when she finally told me the real reason we left.” Jacob pauses, again becoming thoughtful. “She found out that the man who fathered me was married and had a kid a little older than me. Mama knew someone who knew him and his wife. The person told her he was abusive. It was all a major shock. For years after that, Mama tried to move on in her life and forget about him, but she couldn't. Finally she decided she couldn't stay there any longer.”

  I shake my head sadly. “So you've never had any contact with him?”

  “Naw,” he drawls. “I never felt the desire to see him. Pretty sad, huh?”

  “Yes, but it's also understandable. He was never a part of your life. You can't miss something you never had.”

  “I met him once before we moved. Even after seeing me, he didn't want anything to do with me. I guess that kind of stuck with me.”

  I nod, understanding. “It's sad how much we hurt others with our choices, especially when it comes to our children.” Adagio takes my hand, squeezing it gently and I smile, knowing he is remembering just as I am. The years of sexual abuse I suffered at the hand of my father will never truly be forgotten, but I made my peace with him a long time ago.

  “You know,” Jacob continues, “his wife eventually died of alcoholism. He tried contacting Mama after that, but she would have nothing to do with him because it would've hurt too much to start things up with him again. Then years ago Mama heard he had died. I can't remember if it was from cancer or AIDS. I just remember mama crying.” He shrugs his shoulders. “That's the way things go sometimes.”

  As he moves to another topic of conversation, for some reason my mind echoes over again the last thing he said. “I can't remember if it was from cancer or AIDS.” And the wife dies of alcoholism?

  I lightly touch a hand to my hammering heart. I feel the squeeze of Adagio's hand and turn to find his expression mirroring mine. I chuckle inwardly. You've got to be kidding me!

  It is Adagio who finally asks, “Jacob, do you by chance remember your father's name?” My grip on his hand tightens in anticipation of his answer.

  “Yeah. His name was Alton Matthews.”

  We stare at him in silence. Only after the words have been spoken do I see it. Jacob has my father's eyes, and his smile. I can't believe I didn't see it before!

  “Cisely, Adagio,” Andrea says, breaking the silence, “are you all right?” She glances over at Jacob, who also looks concerned.

  I am suddenly so emotional, I can't speak. I press a hand to my mouth and the tears come. Adagio puts an arm around me, holding me close.

  “It is all right, amore,” he whispers. Raising his teary eyes to Jacob, he says, “Forgive us. My wife felt that we needed to come back to North Carolina for some reason, but this is something we never saw coming.” He chuckles emotionally. “You see, except for a couple of relatives, we thought all of Cisely's family had passed on, and now . . . we find out that you two have the same father.”

  I look at Jacob, and I can tell it is taking a few sec
onds for his mind to process what Adagio just said. Then I watch his brown eyes grow large and teary. He looks over at me, his expression turning melancholy.

  “So, you're the sister I never got the chance to know.”

  I swallow hard, tears falling down my face. “Not until now.” With that, the two of us stand and move into each other's embrace. We hold onto one another and cry.

  Over Jacob's shoulder, I watch Adagio and Andrea look at each other and smile, tears streaking their faces as well. I finally move back a little, pressing a hand to my brother's face. “This is a most unexpected blessing.”

  “For me too,” he says, squeezing my hand.

  We stay with Jacob until late, talking and sharing our lives. I can't believe I actually have a brother! When I was a child, I wished for a sibling, then as I got older, I figured it had been for the best because of what the child would have been subjected to had it been a girl. And now to find out after all this time that I have a brother is more wonderful than I can possibly say. I know without a doubt, my prompting to come back to North Carolina was to bring our family together.

  As Andrea listens to Adagio sharing how he and Cisely came to be together, she is amazed. They are two of the best people she has ever had the privilege of knowing.

  “Yours sounds like a marriage made in heaven,” Jacob says, taking of sip of hot chocolate.

  Adagio looks into Cisely's eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand. “It is.”

  Jacob watches the two and smiles, a hint of sadness filling him. If things had gone the way he'd wanted in his life, he would be married with grown children of his own.

  “Are you all right?” Cisely asks, covering his hand with hers.

  “I'm fine. I just can't help wishing things would have worked out differently for me. I mean, don't get me wrong. I've had a good life. But it would have been nice to have a wife and kids.”

  Cisely squeezes his hand. “But as you said, you have lived a good life. You have accomplished a lot.”

  “I know,” Jacob says with a smile. “I still can't help thinking about Brenda. She was a beautiful woman. I saw her a few times right after we broke up. After that, it was as if she'd disappeared from off the face of the earth. Sometimes I wonder how things would be now if she had married me.” He chuckles. “I don't know, maybe we would have driven each other so crazy, our marriage would have fallen apart anyway. I was seventeen years older than she was. If we had gotten married, she would still be young while I'm now an old man.”

  “Hey,” Cisely says, “I'm only a few years older than you. You're as old as you feel.”

  “Yes ma'am,” Jacob says humbly and Adagio chuckles. “I won't make that mistake–”

  “My mother's name was Brenda,” Andrea interrupts softly. She looks at Jacob intently. “Brenda Anderson.”

  Jacob's expression changes, becoming unreadable. Except for Cisely's soft gasp and Adagio's whispered, “Mama mia!” there is silence.

  “Andrea,” Cisely finally says, “tell Jacob what you know about your parents.”

  Lifting a shaky hand, Andrea pushes her hair back from her face, then takes a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “Well, I only know what my grandmother told me. And she basically repeated what my mother told her, which was that my father left her pregnant and didn't want anything to do with me. That was a joke in itself considering she dumped me off on my grandmother and took off to pursue her own dreams.” She pauses, looking down at her shaking hands. “My grandmother told me she didn't really believe my mother and there had to be more to it, but I figured it was all true. I mean, why would she lie?”

  Jacob closes his eyes and sighs, completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that lay before him. All this time, all these many years, he's had a daughter. He's lived in the same town with her for almost twenty years and had no clue. He opens his eyes, focusing his gaze on Andrea.

  “Brenda told me she didn't want me, but she never told me she was pregnant.”

  “Well,” Andrea says, looking at him tearfully, “she was such an unhappy person, maybe she wanted us to be unhappy too. Or, maybe she was so wrapped up in herself, she just didn't care.”

  “Maybe,” he agrees, looking at her as if he is seeing her for the first time. He now recognizes Brenda's smile. And taking in her skin coloring, he has no doubt she is his daughter. He takes her hand, watching the tears spill down her cheeks. “Now that you know the truth, how do you feel about everything?”

  Andrea smiles, moving into his open arms, and soaks in his embrace. Drawing back a little, she looks into his eyes, wiping at the tears trailing down his face. “Having had the opportunity to know you, I don't think I can ask for a better father.” Hugging him again, she suddenly laughs. “This is incredible!”

  Adagio and Cisely dry their own tears.

  “This whole day has been amazing,” Cisely says. “We've discovered I have a brother and a niece! What a wonderful way to end a long vacation.”

  Adagio smiles at his wife, suddenly needing to be alone with her. “Jacob, would you mind giving your daughter a ride home?”

  Jacob grins back, still reeling that Andrea is really is his daughter. “I don't mind at all.”

  Adagio and Cisely thank him again for dinner and the four share firm embraces, marveling at how wonderful the day has been for them all.

  Adagio leans back against the pillows with me securely wrapped in his arms. To say the day has been a fulfilling one is an understatement. It is as if every event in my life has led me to this night, and everything has been laid out in the open before me.

  “Oh, amore,” Adagio whispers into my hair. “How fortunate I feel to be a part of something so incredible!”

  I nod tearfully. “It's still so hard to believe. When I think of all the times I longed for a sibling as a child, it boggles my mind that . . . oh, if I had only known . . .”

  He presses a gentle hand to my face. “All I can think is better late than never.”

  “True,” I agree with a smile. “Thank you for sharing this experience with me,” I say, pulling his head down to kiss him.

  He smiles against my mouth. “By your side is the only place I will ever want to be.”

  One hundred-six

  Many years later Adagio presses a light kiss to Cisely's hand as their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren gather around them and sing the birthday song to him. Ninety years is longer than he'd ever expected to live, and he and Cisely are both grateful to have the whole family there to celebrate this special day.

  He laughs as the great-grandchildren help him blow out the candles on the large cake Phillip had spent the whole morning preparing. Since he's had complete control of the restaurant for the past twenty-five years, he closes it for the family celebration. There is food galore covering a long row of tables. The rest of the tables are filled with Adagio and Cisely's posterity.

  As Adagio takes in the various faces of his family members, he has to smile. The dream that had engraved itself in his heart when he was sixteen has come to pass. He has everything he could ever want. He can't ask for more. He squeezes his wife's hand, noticing how tired her eyes look.

  “Are you all right, amore?” Cisely nods slightly. “I'm fine, but I wouldn't mind a cup of herbal tea.” She slowly stands. “Would you like some?”

  “No, thank you. Why don't you let one of the children get it for you.”

  “It's all right,” she assures him. “I need to stretch these old limbs anyway.”

  “You are only as old as you feel, angel,” he says, grinning. “And you are still beautiful.”

  She smiles, leaning down and kissing him softly. “Thank you, my love.”

  Adagio watches her walk away, noticing the absence of the spring that usually accompanies her step. Even at eighty, she has always remained active and full of energy. This evening that energy is no longer there. The thought saddens him, so he tucks it away in the hidden recesses of his mind.

  I am leaning against the metal c
ounter stirring my tea when Phillip walks in. He smiles and I smile back, freshly amazed by how much he looks like his father.

  “You should have let me get that for you, Mama.” “I didn't mind.”

  He touches my face. “You look tired.”

  “I am a little tired.”

  “Too much partying,” he says with a grin.

  I chuckle. “Probably.” Sobering, I look at him quietly for

  a moment as various thoughts flicker through my mind, but one particular thought stands out from the rest. Lifting a hand to his face, I swallow hard against the unexpected emotion. As his eyes meet mine, his face blurs through my tears.

  “What is it, Mama?” he asks. “I can't tell you how proud Papa and I are of you. You have brought us so much joy and happiness.”

  He touches my face. “You have been the best parents a person could ask for.”

  “We've tried.”

  “And you have succeeded.”

  “Thank you. Where is young Adagio?”

  “As usual, he's out on the veranda indulging in one of his favorite past-times, looking through photos of you and Papa.”

  “Ah, I should have known. He always knows the way to my heart.”

  “I think you two are his favorite people in the world.”

  “We've definitely formed a bond.” I pause, thinking of my grandson. “He's an amazing man. And I know his interests are different from yours, but give him time.” I gaze around the kitchen. “This restaurant is in his blood. He will take over when it's time. Just be patient.”

  “I will, Mama. I think he knows Papa wants him to have it.”

  I nod, satisfied. “Now, I had better get back to your father before he comes looking for me.”

  Phillip waits as I take a couple of sips of the tea, then he takes my hand and we return to the dining area to be with the family.

  As the evening grows late, I stand by the bedroom window, taking in the familiar view. I've come to know it so well, I can close my eyes and remember every single detail. Looking down into the backyard, I take in the amazing sight of our posterity as they play and wander about. I love each and every one of my family members intensely, and I've treasured every moment I have been blessed to spend with them. But I'm afraid my time is done.