The Legacy (60 page)

I shiver as a heady warmth rushes over me, through me, a
product of the passionate words spoken. A small sob escapes
me as his mouth devours mine with a kiss that is demanding,
possessive, and infinitely filling at the same time. Deep within,
my heart burns as his soulful words wash over me, my entire
being suddenly crying out for him, and the strength with which
these emotions comes is almost frightening. How can this man
love me so much? How can I love him beyond all reason?

I relish the feel of his gentle hands on my face and in my
hair. And as he pulls me firmly against him, the love and
longing that surges through me makes me weak with a great
and terrible yearning that is beyond words.

Adagio is drowning in delirium as Cisely's softness and
warmth consume his every sense. He can't hold her close
enough, can't kiss her enough. Each kiss and each moment in
her arms only fuels his burning need for her. It's as if he will die
if he waits any longer to make love to her.

Drawing back, he stands, lifting her in his arms. Their
gazes are locked as he carries her into the house, their eyes
convey to each other that no more words are needed.

When we finally arrive home, we are showered with hugs,
and we in turn shower our children with gifts. Phillip, in
particular, has missed us greatly. From the day I was released
from the hospital, he has stayed close to me, and it had been
hard for him to see us leave.

Adagio and I are grateful for the time away, but we are
happy to be back with our family. And though we know we will
have many more vacations alone in the future, this particular
one will always be especially treasured.

Mali returns the next summer for two months and we are
thrilled to have her back. Emotionally she is still healing but
doing much better, and I watch the bond between her and
Phillip grow even stronger. Wendy joins her daughter for the
last two weeks and we have a marvelous time.

Once again, Phillip is sad to see Mali go, but there will be
another summer, and the promise he made to Mali last year will
stay in his heart, never letting him forget her part in his life, or
his goal to have her share his future.

I have held the hope in my heart for some time that my son would
follow in my footsteps. All of our children are striving to live good lives, and
they make me proud. But watching Phillip is truly like viewing my younger
self, only he has grown into a better man than me. I cannot ask for more
than that.

After checking off everything he needs, Phillip places
his neatly folded clothes in the large suitcase, adding the toiletry
bag last. Having finished, he looks over his list once more and
smiles, musing over how much he has taken after his mother.
She makes lists for everything and he finds he has adopted the
habit as well because he hates forgetting anything. When he is
sure he has everything he needs, he sits on the edge of the bed
and stares out his window down into the front courtyard,
pondering with irony what he is about to do.

He was fifteen the last time he saw Mali, and sixteen
when he received her last letter. That was the year he was told
by her mother that she left home and married a guy she knew
in school who graduated that year. With that news came a
sorrow that crushed his world.

Thanks
to
a
lot
of
inspired wisdom from countless
conversations with his parents, he was able to bury the pain and
get past the heartache, but deep down, it never completely went
away. Mali’s choice to marry someone else caused him a pain
unlike anything he’d ever experienced, but he couldn’t let her
go. He was still young, but he couldn't get her out of his heart.

Then two years ago his mother received a call from
Wendy. She told Cisely Mali had been in a car accident the
week before. Mali’s husband had been driving while intoxicated
and crashed into a large tree. Neither of them suffered any
major
injuries,
but
a
piece
of
glass
from the
shattered
windshield had sliced into Mali’s face, leaving a large scar going
down the side of her cheek. Because her face was scarred and
she was no longer perfect to her husband, he quickly decided
he didn’t love her anymore and soon left her for someone else.
Mali then moved back in with her mother. A month later
Wendy called Cisely and told her Mali’s divorce was final.

Closing his eyes, he ponders what Mali had gone through,
unable to imagine her pain. He had wanted so much to go to
her when he first learned of the accident but decided letters
would be better, especially when her emotions were still so raw.
If he had gone to her, he wouldn’t have been able to leave. He
knew he wouldn't. Instead of helping, he might have just made
things worse. Besides, he got the impression that she didn't
want to see him.

He started writing Mali weekly and was discouraged when
there was no response. Nevertheless, he continued to write.
Every day for a year, he searched his mail, hoping for a letter
from her, but there never was. Yet his letters were never
returned. He also emailed her twice a week, but she never
answered. He wished he could shut his feelings off.
He had
tried to give up the dream he’d kept locked inside since
childhood, but his heart couldn’t give her up.

Even now with everything that has happened, he knows
with every fiber of his being he and Mali are meant to be
together. Every desire in his heart is centered around her, and
he is driven to make this trip. Just as his mother owns his
father’s heart, Mali owns his. She claimed it when they were
twelve, and he's never desired to have it back.

Sighing, he zips the suitcase shut. He doesn’t know what
the outcome of this trip will be, he just knows he must to go to
her. Everything else is in God’s hands. He is moving the
suitcase next to his bedroom door when his mother enters.

“Do you have everything?”
“I think so. No, correction, I know so,” he says, holding
up his list for her to see. He chuckles at her soft noise of
approval.
Watching his mother scan his bedroom, he can guess her
thoughts. There is a great deal of his personality in the room.
Two walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. On the
other two hang framed photos of his family. A cushioned
bench sits beneath the large window and a thick, beige down
comforter covers the bed. His desk is topped with a stacks of
books. The ambiance is very cozy.
“I’m sure the house will probably need a bit of dusting
when you get there.”
“Probably,” he agrees with a smile. “But don’t worry,
Mama, I will take care of it.”
“Are you sure you want to stay in that big place alone?
You could probably stay in a cozy room somewhere.”
“I don’t mind being there alone. I love the memories we
made there, before Jessica died and after. Besides, I'll feel closer
to you and Papa.”
She touches his face. “I know it's only for a month, but I
will still miss you.”
He smiles, embracing her. “I will miss you too. But I will
be back before you know it, and hopefully not alone.”

Drawing back, I look into his eyes, meeting the emerald
gaze that is so like his father’s. To me, looking at him truly is
like looking at a slightly tanned, younger version of Adagio.
“Are you sure a month will be long enough?” I ask him.

“All I can do is hope.” He pauses, and I know he is
remembering his conversation with Wendy last week. He had
shared details of the call with me.

Wendy told him how withdrawn and self conscious Mali
has become. She spends her days working in the stock room at
the boutique, hiding her face from customers. Wendy also told
him Mali said she doesn’t want to see him, despite the energy
her mother exerted trying to talk her into it. Phillip spent close
to an hour talking with Wendy about Mali and his feelings for
her. Wendy is sure Mali still has feelings for him as well, but her
daughter has become too afraid to trust anymore. Of course,
neither of them can blame her since her father had also
abandoned them for someone else years ago. Phillip let Wendy
know he is coming and asked her not to tell Mali. She was only
too happy to keep his secret, hoping he will be able to get
through to her daughter.

We really think she is meant to be a part of our family.”
Phillip squeezes my hand. “Sometimes I think I could live
on your faith and be fine, because it is so strong.”
I chuckle softly. “Oh, I have my moments, believe me.
Sometimes I think I would be a lost cause if it wasn’t for your
father. He keeps me steady.”
As Phillip quietly looks at me for a moment, his face
bears a mixture of emotions I can’t discern. He squeezes my
hand, saying with emotion and strength, “I want what you and
Papa have.”
“You already have it,” I say, pressing a hand over his
heart. “Right here. You always have. Like your father, you have
perfect love.” I pause a moment, allowing my gaze to roam
over his handsome features. “I remember a conversation you
and I had when we came back home after the ordeal with my
aunt. I was sitting out on the veranda one day thinking about
what we had gone through, and you came out and sat next to
me. You placed your hand on my stomach and quietly sat,
enjoying the feel of Ian and Isabelle moving around. After a
few moments, you asked me something. Do you remember
what it was?”
Phillip smiles somewhat sadly. “Yes, I do. I asked you if
you and Papa were still mad at Gladys. You told me you
weren't.”
I nod. “We really weren't, because we had to forgive her
and let it go. It was hard, but we had no choice.” I squeeze his
hand. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
“Kind of, but I'm sure you remember exactly what I said,
don't
you?
You
never
forget
anything,
especially
anything
pertaining to the family.”
“I do remember,” I say softly. “You said you were glad
we were not still angry with her because there was still good in
her, and she only acted that way because she had forgotten how
to be good.” I touch his face. “In that moment I knew the kind
of man you would be. At almost six years old, you retaught me
what I already knew but still struggled with from time to time. I
never struggled with it again after that.” Sighing, I place my
hand over his heart again. “So you see, you already have
everything you need right here, just like your father. I think you
were both born with the ability to love unconditionally.”
Phillip looks down, swallowing hard. “You give me more
credit than I deserve, Mama. I mean, I still have my moments.”
“Oh, I know you do,” I agree with a chuckle. “Honey,
look at me.” I touch is chin and he raises his eyes to mine. “I
know you're not perfect and I'm not trying to put you on a
pedestal. I'm just telling you what I've observed. Throughout
your life, you have been able to get along with everyone, and
you have handled every situation you've been faced with well.
Your brothers and sister are like that, too, but you have always
been especially strong.”
“I try,” he says humbly.
“I know, and I can't ask for more than that. I know that
characteristic about you will never change. That is why I know
Mali will finally see into this heart she unknowingly claimed
years ago. When she does, she will know what real love is.”
Phillip embraces me, pressing a kiss into my hair. “I long
for that as well.” He draws back, touching my face. “Thank
you, Mama, for everything.”
“Thank you for making me so proud.”
“I second that,” Adagio says, standing in the doorway,
surprising us both.