The Legacy (24 page)

Read The Legacy Online

Authors: J. Adams

BOOK: The Legacy
13.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

While Cisely is changed and settled, Judy sends Adagio
down to the nursery to bathe Ingo. He then takes a moment to
call Jessica at the boutique. He tells her about their engagement,
and when he announces they now have a son, he has to hold
the phone away from his ear as Jessica shares the news with the
women in the shop and they all cheer.

Entering Cisely’s room, he pushes a small bed with the
sleeping baby inside, taking a moment to silently gaze at the
beautiful face of the woman he loves. Lifting little Ingo from
the bed, he cradles him, marveling at the miracle of his new life.


Amore
,” he says softly.
Cisely opens her eyes. Her smile is serene.
“Our son wants to be with his mama.” He places the

sleeping infant in her arms. She slides over on the bed and
Adagio gently lay back beside her.

Cisely presses her nose against Ingo’s cheek, inhaling the
scent of his soft skin. “He is so perfect.”
“He is.” Adagio caresses the tiny fingers. “He is a miracle.
Life
is a miracle.”
“I am so happy, Adagio. And having you with me means
so much.”
“I will always be here for you.” Touching her face, he
marvels anew that she is really going to be his.
“The only thing that will make it all complete is becoming
your wife.”
His smile is warm. “I look forward to that day more than
anything.” Kissing her tenderly, he silently thanks God for
helping Cisely get through the delivery and blessing them both
with this precious gift.

Thirty-six

I gain my strength back quickly after the birth of Ingo,
and I am filled with a joy that cannot be put into words. Having
a child of my own is a fulfilling responsibility, one that I eagerly
look forward to each morning. I cherish every moment with
our son, celebrating each waking cry and savoring each feeding.

Adagio is an amazing father already, the role seeming as
natural to him as breathing. He now spends most of his time
with me, helping out with the baby whenever he can so I can
rest. Now that we are engaged, our need to be near each other
is even stronger and we desperately long for our wedding day.
It can't come fast enough.

I receive a large package from Ingo’s family containing
gifts for the baby. I call Gloria and Patrick to thank them. I'm a
little nervous about telling them of my engagement to Adagio,
but it has to be done. Ingo is their grandson and they have a
right to know he will have a new father. I am both surprised
and touched by their support. Patrick says Adagio is a great guy
and will make a good father for Ingo. And because Adagio was
such a good friend to his son and has been here for me, he
can't think of a better man for me to marry. I promise to keep
in touch, as well as keep them updated on their grandchild. And
at Adagio’s insistence, I invite them to come and see little Ingo
whenever they want.

We stay busy packing and preparing for the wedding, our
excitement and longing for each other growing by the minute.
There is much to do, which helps to pass the time. Adagio buys
a stroller for Ingo, and in the evenings we take walks through
the neighborhood. It gives me the exercise I need and helps me
get back in shape.

I also spend a lot of time pondering my future. Though I
will miss my home in Utah, I'm looking forward to my new life
with Adagio. Italy will definitely be a big change, but it is a
change I'm ready for.

The summer night before our wedding is pleasant after a
scorching afternoon. At 101 degrees, the air conditioner has
been running all day and staying outdoors for any length of
time was misery, so the cool breeze is appreciated and savored.

Sitting on the front porch swing, Adagio tells me more
about Treviso, our home and the restaurant, which lays a lot of
my fears to rest. Tackling the language is going to be a big job,
but being married to a man who speaks the language fluently
will make the transition much smoother. I am actually looked
forward to learning Italian. I have always thought it a beautiful
language.

Adagio's arms are around me, his embrace comfortable
and secure. “I hope you don't mind, but I had Anna purchase
some nursery furniture for Ingo. I also had her redecorate the
master bedroom a little for us.”

“You did?” I am surprised and touched.
“Yes. I told her to add a few feminine things, you know,
brighter bedding and curtains and things, just to add a woman’s
touch. Of course, if you don't like it, you can change it.”
“I’m sure I will love it. You really didn't need to change
anything, but thank you for being so thoughtful.”
“I just want you to be happy there. It means everything to
me.”
“I
am
happy,
Adagio,
completely
happy.
I
have
everything.” Waving at a passing neighbor, I am thoughtful a
moment. “I have lost much, I've been given much, too. I have
little Ingo to always remind me of Ingo, and I have you. I can't
ask for anything more.”
Smiling warmly, he touches his forehead to mine. “You
are amazing.”
“So are you,” I say, kissing him. “I love you,” I whisper,
longing for tomorrow.
“I love you. And I am counting the minutes until I am
your husband.” Tightening his embrace, he brushes the hair
from my face and slowly lowers his head until his mouth
hovers just above mine, his voice a husky whisper. “And I can't
wait to make love to you, angel.”
My breath quickens as his mouth claims mine, heat
rushing through my entire body, and I melt against him.
Pressing my hands into his hair, I draw him closer still. The low
moan that escapes him ignites an inferno of desire inside me,
and as the urgency of our kiss grows, we begin to lose ourselves
in our need for one another. Adagio finally parts his lips from
mine and we simply gaze at each other for a moment, our
breath mingling, hearts pounding, and adoration burning in our
eyes.
Sighing, I caress the shadow of soft stubble on his cheek
and rest my head against his shoulder. He rocks the swing
gently, and there we stay until late, anticipating our wedding
day.

Thirty-seven

We marry in the backyard beneath an arched, rosecovered trellis. Because I am nursing and have been exercising
regularly, I do regain my figure. The slim fitting, ivory silk and
lace dress fits well, falling just above my ankles. My hair is
styled by Tara Flynn in an intricate up-do that is truly a work of
art. From the moment Adagio sees me, he tells me repeatedly
that I am beautiful and never takes his eyes off me.

And I hadn’t
thought
Adagio
could be
any
more
handsome, but the dark blue Armani suit he wears looks like it
was made just for him, and there isn’t a more perfect looking
man on the face of the earth. I know he is breaking hearts
everywhere by marrying me, and I'm okay with that.

Our only guests besides Jessica are Gary and Tara, and
the women from the boutique. We felt a small wedding was
best.

Vows and rings are exchanged and we are pronounced
husband and wife.
When it is time for us to share our first kiss, Adagio softly
caresses my cheek, the tears in his eyes mirroring my own.
Taking me in his arms, he kisses me and I sense his restrained
passion. The yearning in his eyes as he parts his lips from mine
warms me to the core.
“I love you, Mrs. St. John,” he whispers.
“I love you, Mr. St. John.”
After receiving hugs and heart-felt wishes, we have a few
light refreshments. We thank the reverend for performing the
ceremony, as well as everyone else for coming and supporting
us.
Since I am nursing Ingo, I can’t leave him with Jessica,
but I wouldn’t anyway because he is so young, and I can’t bear
the thought of being separated from him even for two days.
Adagio loads our bags in the trunk while I say goodbye
again to Jessica. Giving her one last hug, we leave for the hotel.

We check into an executive suite at
The Grand America
.
While Adagio puts our things away in the bedroom, I
nurse Ingo before placing him in the portable crib, and then
head to the bathroom to change. Taking a little extra time, I
contemplate that I am now Mrs. Adagio St. John. I whisper my
new title and sigh. It's hard to believe we are really married.
Melancholic tears come as I think back on the day I
married Ingo. It would have been our one year wedding
anniversary
in
a
little
over
a
week,
and I can’t
help
remembering
the
happiness
we
shared that
day.
But
the
memories don’t make me sad, nor do I feel guilty for falling in
love again. Had Ingo lived, we would still be blissfully in love.
But this doesn't diminish my feelings for Adagio. I know
marrying him was right. We are supposed to be together now.
He has been with me though the hardest time of my life and I
couldn’t help falling in love with him. Now I can’t imagine not
being with him. It still seems a little strange to feel this way, but
I do.
Having finished changing into a peach lacy chemise, I
check my reflection once more. Taking a deep breath, I open
the door.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Adagio stares out at the
vast city, marveling that Cisely is now his wife. After being
alone for so many years, he had wondered if he would ever find
love. He'd searched, pondered, prayed, and waited. Then he
decided to just be still and trust God.

When Ingo died, it nearly crushed Adagio. Losing his
friend was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to face.
Cisely was alone again and his heart had gone out to her.
Supporting her through her grief, he sometimes wondered if
she would ever truly be okay again. He'd also wondered if his
own wants and desires even mattered anymore.

He had been wrong to doubt.
Because a miracle happened. Without even realizing it,
the desires of his heart were being granted. Cisely had healed
his heart and claimed it as her own.
His insides swell with love and longing as he thinks of
Cisely. His feelings for her are so strong, he can’t imagine not
being with her now. He loves her with every fiber of his being,
and now that she is his wife, he can fully share that love with
her.

Other books

Devil's Dream by Madison Smartt Bell
Spread 'Em by Jasmine Dayne
Apart From Love by Poznansky, Uvi
The Dream of My Return by Horacio Castellanos Moya
Derailed by Gina Watson
Finders Keepers by Catherine Palmer
Death Of A Diva by Derek Farrell
Everyone's Dead But Us by Zubro, Mark Richard
My Secret History by Paul Theroux