The Legacy (26 page)

Walking over to the large window, I gaze out at the city
and the River Sile, and try to picture Adagio standing alone
looking at this same view. I take comfort in the knowledge that
I will be here to share it with him now. It is all so incredible, I
can scarcely take it in. This is now my home and where my life
will be.

Adagio’s strong arms come around me and he presses a
soft kiss to the side of my neck. His warm breath against my
skin sends shivers of pleasure through me.

“I absolutely love it here.”
“It makes me happy to know that. I felt guilty thinking I
was taking you away from everything and everyone you loved. I
never want you to be unhappy,
amore
. I give you all that I have
and will do everything in my power to give you a happy life.”
Turning, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I am the
happiest woman in the world, and as long as I am with you, I
will always be, no matter where we are. This is home now.”
“Even with the language challenges?”
“Well, what better way for me to learn Italian than marry
an Italian man?”
“I agree completely. Especially,” he says, kissing the
corner of my mouth, “since it's me you married.”
“Oh, definitely,” I agree. I turn back to look at the river,
enfolded snugly against his chest.
Tightening his embrace, Adagio rests his head against
mine, taking in the panoramic picture with me. “You don't
know how good it feels to share this view with you. I have
always found some pleasure in it, but it was not the same. To
have you here makes it all so different. I feel as though I am
seeing it for the first time. Nothing will ever be the same for
me again.”
“You know,” I say, turning back around, “even when
Ingo was alive, it hurt to think of you feeling so alone here.” I
press a hand to his face, touching my fingers to his lips. “But I
am grateful it was me you waited for, though I still find this all
hard to believe sometimes.” I pause, silently staring into his
eyes. “So many changes.”
He meets my gaze, his own unwavering. “I am not sorry
to have you,” he says softly, yet I hear the conviction in his
voice. “I will always treasure the friendship I shared with Ingo,
but I am not sorry to have you now. I could never be
ungrateful for the blessing of loving you.” Sighing, he rests his
brow against mine.
Blinking
back
tears,
I take
in
the
poignancy
of
the
moment. “I am not sorry, either. I will always treasure my
marriage to Ingo, but I am not sorry for loving you.” I touch
his face. “You believe me, don't you?”
His eyes roam over my expression, not missing the
bittersweet irony there. “I believe you, angel.”
“This is where I am supposed to be–right here.” I wrap
my arms around his neck. “Right here in your arms. And this is
where I will always stay.”
Adagio smiles and kisses me, and kisses me. Then he
carries me to the bed and makes love to me, and we relish the
happiness we feel as we begin our new life in the country of his
birth, and the home we will fill with love.

Settling into my new life is even easier than I thought it
would be. My heart overflows with the joy of motherhood, and
being Adagio’s wife brings me a happiness I never thought I
would have again.

Each day I watch Adagio revel in his role of being a
husband and father. Hiring another chef, he moves Sam, his
most experienced chef, up to his position, which enables him
to spend most of his time with us. Being together is our
favorite past-time.

My love for Adagio has grown in intensity and I treasure
each moment we spend together. We are seldom apart from
one another, and if we are, it usually isn't for very long. Our
need to be close is very strong.

I have a new friend in Anna, our housekeeper. We get
along well and she frequently expresses her happiness that
Adagio isn’t alone anymore. Anna only speaks a little English,
but it is enough for us to understand one another. I also get to
know Sam and the other chefs, as well as the rest of the staff at
the restaurant, and it is easy to see how much they love Adagio.
It seems everyone who knows him feels this way, and I am
proud to be his wife.

Treviso is beautiful with a very tranquil and peaceful
elegance.
Boasting
canals
with
backdrops
of
the
Sile
and
Dolamite mountains, it is unlike any place I have ever been.
Many days find us packing Ingo in the stroller and touring the
old churches stretching from piazza to piazza. I enjoy walking
down the cobblestone streets and alleyways, having relaxing
lunches at the pizzerias and trattorias.

Adagio often takes us into Venice. We ride the train
across the ocean to the beautiful city. Walking around St Marks
Square, we shop at the small stands, straying off the beaten
path every now and then. My favorite spot is the Rialto Bridge,
where we stand watching the gondoliers steer their vessels
through the canal. We've visited museums and toured the
palaces along the Grand Canal, which are now mostly hotels,
restaurants, and shops. I am convinced Venice is the most
beautiful and romantic place in the world.

Adagio promises to take me on a trip through the country
and show me more of Italy when Ingo is older. Since we never
really had a honeymoon, I am looking forward to it.

I smile at Ingo as I change him in the nursery. Our little
bundle of joy is now three months old and definitely growing.
His dark brown hair is wavy with a few blond highlights, and
unusually thick dark lashes frame his honey-colored eyes. His
complexion has an olive tone.

Smiling up at me, Ingo coos softly and I sing a lullaby.
The sound of my voice seems to have a calming effect and I
definitely love singing to him.

Adagio walks down the hall and is about to enter the
nursery but stops when he hears Cisely's silky, soulful voice.
How he loves to hear her sing! It's as if angels are singing each
time a song escapes her, and to him, there isn't a more beautiful
voice in the world. He often thinks back to the first time he
heard her sing. It was at Brian’s funeral. As he listened to her
that day, her voice took his breath away, and he was sure
everyone present felt the same. She has an extraordinary gift.
He listens for a moment longer before going in, wanting to be
near her.

“That was beautiful,
amore
,” he says moving behind her,
kissing her cheek.
“Thank you.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he presses her back
against
his
chest.
“How
old were
you
when
you
started
singing?”
She is thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I remember
being
five
and singing
to
the
animals
through
the
fence
bordering the backyard of the housing project we lived in. The
owner had a couple of horses grazing out back. Whenever I
started singing, they would come over and press their noses to
the fence and let me pet them. It happened every time. I guess
that was when it started. After that, my voice just kind of took
off on its own.” She smiles at the memory.
“I feel very blessed to be married to such a gifted
woman–a
woman
who
possesses
much
integral strength,
especially having been placed in a life with so many trials for
one so young.”
“I don’t feel integrally strong, especially with all the
terrible choices I’ve made in the past.”
“Ah,
bella
, but look at the choices you are making now.
That is what matters, not the past.”
“I know. That’s why I was so grateful for the chance to
leave the old life behind.”
“And I am grateful for you.” He pauses, lightly touching
his mouth to hers. “You are my life, Cisely.” he whispers
against her lips. “You know that, don't you?”
“Yes,” she whispers back. “And you are mine.”
When her lips part with a breathy sigh, he deepens the
kiss, warmth spreading through his whole being.
“I should go and check on the quiche,” he breathes,
parting his lips from hers slightly.
“If you have to,” she says with a coy smile, pulling his
head down again, drawing a low growl from him.
“I guess a few more minutes won't matter,” he murmurs.

We spend the afternoon stretched out on the family room
floor, playing with Ingo and taking pictures. Wanting to capture
as many moments of his childhood as I can, snapping photos
of our son is now a habit for me. I've also started doing more
scrapbooking. I learned to like the hobby while living in Utah,
and since having Ingo, my love for it has grown. I already have
one book full of photos of him, both alone and with Adagio.

When Ingo falls asleep in Adagio’s arms, he takes him up
to the nursery while I pick up the scattered toys and place them
back in the basket. Adagio finds me in the kitchen, washing the
last of the lunch dishes.

“I can’t believe he’s really three months old now,” I tell
him as I wash the plates.
He grabs a towel and dries them. “I can't either. Time is
passing so quickly. It seems like just yesterday that we brought
him home from the hospital.”
“I know. I was so glad to finally be able to hold him in
my arms, but I also miss carrying him in a way. While he was
still inside me he was sheltered. I didn’t have to worry about
him being hurt or suffering in any way. You know what I
mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean. This world can be a
scary place.”
“It really can be,” I agree. “But I wouldn't trade bringing
children into the world for anything.”
“Neither
would I.”
He
pulls
me
close.
“You
are
a
wonderful mother, Cisely.”
“Thank you. And you are a wonderful father. I wouldn’t
be able to do it without you.”
He smiles and kisses me.
After we've finished cleaning, I call Jessica to thank her
for the package of new baby cloths we received from her last
week. Hearing her motherly voice always lifts my spirits. I miss
her so much and it's hard to say goodbye whenever we talk.
Our conversations are pretty lengthy and I'm grateful to be able
to talk for as long as I want. It makes being so far apart a lot
easier.

Adagio surprises me by bringing in dinner from the
restaurant. We dine on ziti with roasted eggplant and ricotta
cheese,
Caesar
salad,
and stuffed mushrooms.
He
even
prepared orange creme brulee, which is now my new favorite
dessert.

“So, did you cook
all
of this yourself?”
“I did,” he answers, smiling. His chefs are used to him
wandering in every now and then to prepare himself a meal,
and they are really happy to see him preparing meals for two
for a change. His employees are very loyal to him and love him
because he is so easy to work for. He appreciates them just as
much for being such good workers and often rewards them for
their loyalty.
“Well, I guess it
is
your kitchen.” I take a bite of the
eggplant. “And you are definitely the most amazing cook in the
world.”
“
Grazie, amore
. I am sure there are better ones, but I feel
pretty good when my dishes turn out well.”
After dinner we are both so stuffed, we decide to take a
walk around the grounds. I grab the baby monitor to listen for
Ingo. We hold hands and casually stroll around the grounds.
“I will never get tired of gazing up at this place,” I say,
again taking in the large home, it's shadow looming over us,
providing cooling shade from the sun.
“You know, I actually got a good deal on it. It didn't take
much to get it cleaned up and updated.”
“It’s beautiful and the view is perfect. I feel very fortunate
to be here living here.” Warmed by his gaze–an effect that will
never fade–I smile shyly. “I feel like a princess.”
“You are not just a princess, angel. You are a queen. And
the home is blessed because you are here. Your presence has
made everything complete, including me.”
“The feeling is very mutual.” He pulls me close, kissing
me warmly, and we embrace for
another moment before
continuing our walk.
Coming around the side of the house, we stop and sit for
a bit on the veranda. Lightly running my fingers across the
surface of the glass-topped, wrought iron table, I think about
how romantic it would be to have lunch or dinner here
sometime, and I make a mental note to surprise Adagio one day
with a meal here. Of course to me, any meal I share with him is
romantic.
Gazing out at the old buildings within our view, with
their
various
shades
of
stucco
and stone,
I find myself
imagining what life was like here when they were new. I will
have to read a little more about Italy's history when I have
some time.
Taking my hand, Adagio presses a kiss to my palm and I
marvel at the sweet sensation it brings. His touch in any way
always has that effect on me.
“Thank you for dinner. You are so good to me.”
“You are welcome. I will always be good to you.”
“Then I’m sure if our sons follow your example when
they are married, their wives will be the happiest and most
content women in the world.”
He smiles and kisses me. “Then I will have to make sure I
train them well.”
As I again scan the land surrounding us, I begin to picture
future generations of our family. I can’t help thinking of the
unique heritage they will claim from us, and I am determined to
make sure they know where they come from on both sides.
Little Ingo will also know his biological heritage in addition to
ours.
“Our children will have good lives here,” Adagio says,
seeming to read my thoughts. “And they will know they are
loved.”
I look at him in amazement, unable to believe how
perceptive he has become to my feelings. Sometimes I feel like
he knows me better than I know myself. “They will.”
We sit for a few more moments, watching the sunset
before going back into the house through the veranda entrance
to check on Ingo before getting settled for the night.