The Legacy (51 page)

I love you, Mama
. Drying my tears, I get in the car, keeping
my gaze on the grave until Adagio is in.
He squeezes my hand. “I love you, baby,” he says before
starting the car.
“And I love you.” We lean in, our lips meeting. Drawing
back, I press a hand against his face, marveling at how blessed I
am. Approaching his forty-sixth birthday, Adagio doesn't look a
day over thirty-five, even with the graying at his temples, and
I'm still convinced there isn’t a more handsome man in the
world. I smile, brushing my hand back over his wavy hair. He
wears
it
longer
now
and there
isn't
a
trace
of
thinning
anywhere. I love pressing my hands into its softness.
“Thank you for coming with me today. You’re always so
good to me.”
“That will never change,
amore
.”

When we arrive back at the house, Ian and Isabel come
running out to the garage. The two six-year-olds usually stick
together like glue and are as close as any twins can be. Both
have inherited Adagio’s dark, wavy hair, but their
honeycolored eyes definitely come from me. Isabelle looks like me
while Ian’s features are a mixture of Adagio's and mine. We
frequently study all our children and tell each other we do good
work.

“Hurry, Mama!” Isabelle says, taking my hand. “We have
to get ready for Aunt Wendy’s party!”
Adagio laughs as Ian echoes his sister’s sentiments. He
squats down and ruffles his hair. “The party is still two hours
away. You don't want to be there before everyone else, do
you?”
“We don’t mind,” Isabelle says, her voice a younger
version of mine. “If we get there early, we can eat as much of
the good food as we want before everyone else does.”
I look at Adagio and we laugh. “So, that’s what the game
plan is, huh?” The two nod, huge grins spreading across their
faces, which makes me laugh even more. “You two are pretty
clever.”
“I would have to agree with you,” Adagio says. “Tell you
what. Why don’t we go into the house and have a snack and
maybe you will be all right until the party, okay?”
“Okay,” they both agree, running back into the house.
I shake my head. “Where do they learn these things?”
“I am guessing it was inherited from their brothers,
especially Phillip.”
“You’re
probably
right,”
I agree,
remembering
how
excited Phillip was about food at parties when he was their age,
and he still is. “Then I guess I will have to accept part of the
blame. I’ve always had a love affair with food. Especially
anything you cooked.”
“So,” he says, pulling me close, “that's why you married
me, huh?”
“Well, you have to admit, you do make the best creme
brulee in the world.”
He grins. “Well, my mother did tell me the best way to a
woman’s heart is feeding her dessert.”
I chuckle and kiss him. “Well, remind me to thank your
mother when we see her in the next life.”
“I will,
amore
.” I look forward to introducing you to her
someday.”
“Do you think she will like me?”
He brushes my hair back. “She will love you.” Kissing my
brow, he holds me close a moment longer before we head into
the house.
When we enter the kitchen, Ian and Isabelle are sitting at
the table, waiting anxiously for me to heat up some left over
pizza from last night.
“
Grazie, Mama,
” they say as I hand them a slice.
“You’re welcome.”
“Where are your brothers?” Adagio asks, taking a bite of
the pizza.
“Ingo is next door playing with Scott, and Phillip is in his
room reading.”
“I should have known,” he says, smiling.
Phillip is the avid reader in our family, and he is rarely
found without a book in his hand. Given the choice of hanging
out with friends or reading, Phillip chooses the latter most of
the
time,
preferring
to
stay
close
to
us.
For
a
while
we
wondered if
he
was
still a
little
traumatized from the
kidnapping ordeal, but it soon became clear that this is just
Phillip’s personality, and we don’t mind at all.
Phillip and I share a special closeness and I love having
him around more, but I try not to shelter him too much, and I
do what I can to encourage his independence. Our children are
growing fast and will be gone one day. All we can do is try to
prepare them for the world they will go out into.
Once the children are finished, I put a slice of pizza on a
plate and take it up to Phillip. Knocking softly, I stick my head
in the room. Phillip looks up and flashes one of his heart
melting smiles that is so much like his father’s.
“I brought you some pizza.”
“
Grazie
, Mama,” he says, closing the book. He puts it on
the table and takes the plate from me.
I pull the chair from the desk and sit down facing him.
“How are you, honey?” I ask, squeezing his knee.
“I’m okay.” He takes a bite of the pizza and smiles. “I’m
excited about Wendy’s party.”
“You and everyone else. She’s the only person I know
who would turn her own birthday party into a going away party
for her friends.”
“She really is a neat lady.” He pauses. “Her daughter
doesn’t seem too friendly, though.”
“I think she’s probably going through a tough time right
now. I’m sure her parent’s divorce was pretty hard on her.”
Phillip is thoughtful for a moment, which leads me to
believe the conversation is about to turn serious. I know his
look of contemplation well. It is one of the many things he
inherited from his father.
“Mama, how could Paul leave Wendy for someone else? I
mean, why would he do that?”
Despite preparing myself, I am caught off guard by his
question. He has a way of doing that. I have often pondered
Wendy's situation over the past couple of years and the marital
problems she confided in me about, and Adagio and I have
always kept Wendy and Paul in our thoughts. When we brought
the kids back to visit a year ago and Wendy told us her husband
left her for someone else, I was extremely sad on her behalf. I
couldn’t believe their marriage was over just like that. Paul had
immediately filed for a divorce and it was finalized a few
months before we arrived this time.
Since then, Wendy and I have spent a lot of time talking.
Wendy confided in me about her concern for her daughter.
Mali has gone through some changes since the divorce. She is
sullen and withdrawn, refusing to talk much with anyone,
except for a few rough kids she hangs out with. Wendy is afraid
her daughter is heading down the wrong path, and she doesn't
know what to do. I am also afraid for her. Mali is a beautiful
girl and could do a lot with her life if she will just follow her
mother’s advice and guidance. But right now that seems to be
the last thing she wants to do.
“Why would he leave her, Mama?” Phillip asks again,
drawing my thoughts back to the present.
“I don’t know, honey. It’s hard for me to understand too.
But since I’m not in his shoes or Wendy’s, I couldn’t even
guess. I do know though, that infidelity is wrong, no matter
what the problems are in a marriage.”
Phillip is quiet for a moment, letting my comment settle.
After another moment he asks, “Do you think they still love
each other?”
I sigh. I've never known a twelve-year-old so sensitive to
matters of the heart. “I don’t know about Paul, but from what I
know of Wendy’s feelings, I think she still loves him. But,
honey,
sometimes
love
isn’t
enough
to
keep
two
people
together. It should be if it’s truly unconditional love, but a lot
of times it isn’t. And only God knows what is in our hearts. Am
I making any sense?”
“I think
so.”
He
again
silently
ponders
my
words.
“Mama, you and Papa love each other unconditionally. I can
tell.”
I smile, placing my hand over his. “Yes, I would say our
love is definitely that. There is nothing we wouldn’t do for each
other, and nothing could ever come between us.” I blink away
moisture rising in my eyes. “There isn’t another man on this
earth like your father, Phillip. He has supported me and been
there for me through some of the hardest times of my life. And
I have tried to do the same for him.” I smile. “He treats me like
a queen.”

Phillip
holds
his
mother’s
hand,
his
expression
thoughtful. Having grown up witnessing the love between his
parents, he has always watched the way his father treats his
mother. To him this is the way it is supposed to be, and he truly
does
believe
nothing
will
ever
come
between
them.
Determination fills his eyes. “I will be like Papa when I grow
up. I will love my wife unconditionally and treat her like a
queen, too.”

Smiling tearfully, Cisely presses a hand to his face. “I
know you will.”
Phillip kisses his mother’s cheek, then hugs her. “I love
you, Mama.”
She returns his embrace with fervor. “I love you, too.”

Sitting with my hand in Adagio’s, I absently finger his
wedding band as we watch the guest slowly file through the
side gate onto Wendy’s large patio. Each family presents the
hostess with a birthday gift. She accepts them graciously and
places them on a table by the patio door. But through Wendy’s
smile,
I can
see
the
emotional strain
hidden
behind her
beautiful Asian features.

Most people consider Wendy a strong woman, but at the
moment, I understand what she is feeling, and it isn't strength.
Only forty years old, she is convinced her life is basically over.
As I watch her, I ponder what I know about her life.

Raised in the United States by parents who moved here
from Japan when she was just an infant, Wendy had always
thought her life a good one. After attending college for two
years and receiving a bachelors degree in fashion and interior
design, she moved to Salt Lake City and went to work for
Jessica.

When
Wendy
met
Paul the
connection
was
instant.
Having
moved from Japan
to
Salt
Lake
himself,
Wendy
thought their meeting each other was destiny. The day they
married had been the happiest of her life. She thought they
would be together forever.

Sadly, she had been wrong. In an instant, her dreams
were gone, and in that same instant, her daughter’s world had
been shattered. Now Wendy feels her daughter slipping further
away from her and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

Once all the guest have been greeted, Wendy excuses
herself and heads to the kitchen. Deciding this is the perfect
opportunity to talk to her, I squeeze Adagio’s hand.

“I’m going to go and see if Wendy needs any help, all
right?”
“Sure,
amore
. I think I will go check on the kids as well.”
I find Wendy pouring more chips into a bowl. “What can
I do to help?”
“Absolutely nothing. This party is for your family, too,
remember?”
“I know and you are the sweetest person in the world for
doing this, but if the birthday girl has to work during her own
party, so can I.”
Wendy feigns annoyance. “I should have stipulated that
you had to sit and enjoy this party to be able to attend.”
“And let you have all the fun of having your hands
moisturized in potato chip grease alone? Never.”
She snorts, then laughs. “Oh, all right. My little helper
seems to have disappeared, anyway.”
“How is Mali today?”
“About the same.” Wendy washes her hands and leans
against the counter and sighs, pushing a hand back through her
short ebony hair. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Cisely.
She is becoming more withdrawn by the day. And what makes
it even worse is Paul occasionally makes plans to pick her up
and spend time with her, then he doesn’t show up. She doesn’t
believe him anymore, and she doesn't trust him. Truthfully, I
can’t blame her.”
“What does she say when you try to talk with her about
her feelings?”
“That’s just it. She won’t talk to me. She won’t say
anything. If she would, maybe we could get somewhere. The
one
thing
I do
get
from her
when
her
father’s
name
is
mentioned is anger. It’s like she hates him now. Sometimes I
feel like she hates me too.”
“I’m so
sorry,”
I say,
putting
an
arm around her
shoulders. “I wish I could help in some way.” I can't begin to
imagine what she is going through.
“Thanks. I guess just having you here to listen to me is
enough.” Closing her eyes, she heaves a frustrated sigh. “I love
my daughter, but I almost feel like I need a break from her.
Does that make me a terrible mother?”
“No, Wendy. It makes you a normal one. We all need
time for ourselves sometimes, and I think you are especially
deserving of it, considering what you are facing.” I squeeze her
shoulder, wishing I could do or say something to help.
While Wendy fills a pitcher with water, I ponder her
predicament. There just has to be something I can do. But
what? A moment later, inspiration comes.
“I have an idea. It’s something I would need to talk over
with Adagio, but if you’re willing, I really don’t think it would
be a problem, and I would actually quite enjoy it.”
“Okay, you’ve got me totally curious. Out with it.”
“Well, how would you feel about letting Mali come to
Italy for a month? It would give you a break and also get her
away from the crowd she hangs around. Plus, Mali would
definitely have some neat experiences for the rest of the
summer and hopefully come back changed for the better.”
Wendy swallows hard, her eyes growing misty.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think you are the most wonderful and giving friend
I’ve ever had. If it’s okay with Adagio, I think Mali spending a
month in Italy is a wonderful idea. She needs to be away from
here for a while.”
“Well, hopefully she will agree to it.”
“She’d be crazy to pass up a chance to go somewhere so
exciting. If she doesn’t agree to go, then I will.”
I chuckle. “Well, no matter how this works out, you’re
welcome anytime.”
Wendy hugs me and wipes her eyes. “Thank you so
much. You will never know how much your friendship means
to me.”
“Your friendship is very important to me too. I want to
do anything I can to help. And speaking of helping, that’s
exactly what I came in here for.”
She smiles. “Okay, if you really have to do something,
let’s get these chips and platters of hot wings out there. The
rest can wait.”
Once we have the food on the table, I head back to the
kitchen to see if there is anything else I can do. I contemplate
looking for Adagio to tell him my idea but decide to wait until
later. It will be wonderful to have Mali stay with us, and I have
no doubt he will agree.