I know I am young, but I do know what true love is. My knowledge doesn't come from any experience of my own, but it is the result of the lessons ingrained in my twelve-year-old heart from watching my parents. Their love is real; it's what heaven is made of. I'm grateful that my father has set the example for me to follow.
Phillip St. John's journal
Eighty-six
Salt Lake City
Six years later.
With my husband's arm around me, I kneel on the cool grass and place a large bouquet of red and white carnations next to the tall granite headstone. The morning sky has been cloudy, the weather dreary, but now the sun's rays are bursting forth and the day is starting to warm. Adagio gives my arm a comforting squeeze as I reverently brush my hand across Jessica's name. It has been four years since she passed away, but kneeling in front of her grave now, it feels like it was only yesterday.
I had been devastated when I received the call from a mutual friend and was told that Jessica had a stroke. Adagio immediately made arrangements and our family flew back to be with her. Sadly, our time together was short. Jessica died a week later and I was crushed.
Jessica's family flew in from Australia and helped me with the funeral. I've kept in touch with them through the years and was glad to see them. Since Jessica had informed her family years ago of the contents of her will, everything was settled. Still, nothing could, or will, ever compensate for her loss.
We decided to sell Jessica's clothing boutique. Since our home is in Italy, it would have been too hard to try and keep it. Wendy Wang, a friend I'd made while working at the boutique, bought the shop. I was happy with the way things turned out, and I couldn't think of a better person to buy the business. Wendy worked for Jessica for years and loved her very much. I knew the shop would be in good hands.
In the week that followed, we boxed up most of Jessica's personal belongings and sent them to her family. I kept some things that were very sentimental to me. I also kept the house because I couldn't bear parting with it. There were so many wonderful memories for me there, I couldn't possibly sell it. And now I'm glad I didn't. Every time we come back to the beautiful old home, I feel closer to Jessica, and the memories we shared in the home always warm my heart.
Wiping my tears, I sigh as my thoughts return to the present. "Oh, how I miss you, Jessica! I love you so much. You brought more joy to my life than you could ever know." I smile. "Then again, you probably do know."
* * *
When Adagio stands, he helps Cisely up and she moves into his arms. Holding her close, he blinks back tears of his own. He still misses Jessica too, and often reflects on all he'd learned from her. He will always love her and be grateful for her mothering ways.
Pressing a gentle hand to Cisely's face, he brushes back a wisp of her auburn hair, continually in awe of her beauty. She is thirty-six now and hasn't changed at all. Her brown skin is still satiny smooth, and there isn't a line on her face. "Are you all right?" he asks softly.
She looks into his loving eyes and smiles. "I'm fine."
Keeping his arm around her, they walk back to the car. As he opens the door for her, Cisely turns and gazes across the cemetery once more at Jessica's grave.
* * *
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 honey-colored 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."
Eighty-seven
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 bachelor's 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.
* * *
Adagio locates Ian and Isabelle. They are in the family room playing a video game with a couple of other children. Satisfied that they are doing all right, he goes in search of Ingo and Phillip. He finds Phillip sitting on the front porch with Mali while Ingo plays basketball in the driveway with a couple of other boys at the party. After talking with Maria and Phillip for a moment, Adagio heads back into the house. Then he stops. Unable to help it, he stands just inside the screen door and listens to Phillip's conversation with Mali. Normally he wouldn't do such a thing, but it is the conversation that makes him stop.
* * *
"I hate my dad. He doesn't love me or even care, so why should I care about him?"
"I'm sure your father does care," Phillip says, his voice compassionate. "And you can't possibly believe their breakup had anything to do with you."
Mali's eyes are filled with doubt and her heart is closed to any other option. In her mind it is all her fault. She is sure her actions caused her father to leave. And now her mother is alone. Mali will never be able to forgive herself for that. She remains quiet for some time, then looks at Phillip intently.
"You are lucky to have parents that love each other so much."
Phillip is thoughtful before speaking again.
"Mali, I really do think that your dad cares . . ." When Mali opens her mouth to interrupt, he puts a hand up to stop her. "But, if he doesn't, then it is his loss. Your mom still loves you and she's still here for you. That's all that matters." Pausing again, he meets her intent stare. "Trust me, it really will be okay." He looks down at his hands a moment before lifting his eyes to hers again. "God also knows what you are going through, and He will never leave you alone, either. Believe me, I know."
As Mali looks into Phillip's eyes, she sees the truth of his words reflected there and wonders what has happened in his life to give him so much faith. "I believe you."
Phillip places his hand over hers, the boyish grin that is so much like his father's lighting his face. "Okay, that's enough serious talk for now. It is time to go and chow down on some serious food."
Mali smiles and nods and Phillip stands, helping her to her feet.
* * *
Adagio quickly and quietly moves from the door before they enter, thinking he has never felt more pride in his son than he does at this moment.
* * *
Adagio enters the kitchen just as I am breaking up another bag of ice.
"Let me do that for you, amore."
"Thank you," I huff, handing him the bag. "It's all yours. This is the third bag and my hands are freezing."
Moving close to me, he says in a low, seductive voice, "I could warm them for you if you'd like." He presses several warm kisses to the back of my neck, producing goosebumps over my entire body.
"Later," I breathe.
"I'll hold you to that," he says with a smile that instantly thaws my frozen hands.
I sigh, taking another bottle of pop from the fridge. "So, did you find the children?"
"Yes, and they are all behaving themselves." He empties the ice into a large pitcher on the counter, then leans back against the counter, folding his arms. "I just witnessed something amazing. Well, I did not actually see it, but I heard it."
"Oh? What was it?" I turn and give him my full attention.
"Well, Phillip and Mali were sitting on the front porch visiting."
"Really?"
"Really. Mali was expressing her feelings about her father. She is very angry with him. And apparently she blames herself for his absence. She thinks it's her fault that Paul left."
"Oh, that poor girl! Why would she think such a thing?"
"I don't know, amore. But I could hear the anger and hurt in her voice. Phillip did his best to comfort her. I was very proud of him. He reminded her that not only does her mother love her, but God loves her as well."
I'm surprised. "Really? Our Phillip?"
"Our Phillip," he says, smiling.
"Do you think it made a difference?"
"I think it did. It definitely did to me. Our son will be a great man one day."
I smile. "He's always been very perceptive to the feelings of others. He takes after you in that and many other ways. He is going to make someone a wonderful husband one day. After all, he is learning from the best."
Adagio grins, kissing my cheek. "Thank you, amore."
"You're welcome."
"What else can I help you with?"
I scan the kitchen counters. "All that's left to take out are the two trays of vegetables."
"I think I can handle those." Adagio heaves an arrogant sigh, flexing his muscles a little.
I chuckle. "I'm sure you can, but let me know if you need help. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
Feigning indignation, he reaches for the larger platter and walks by me, pretending to trip and lose his grip, making my heart jump. He laughs and I swat at him with a dish towel as he heads out the door. I shake my head and laugh. How I love that man!
* * *
Later in the evening, I finish the last of the packing. I'm actually able to fit all the extra things we are taking back home into our suitcase. It seems no matter where we go, we always manage to take back twice as much stuff as we bring with us. I suppose it always helps to pack light in the first place.
Having that taken care of, I slowly wander through the large house, taking in every detail, letting the memories wash over me. Looking back, I could never have guessed how coming to stay with Jessica would change the course of my life. Thinking on all that has happened, I can hardly take it in at times.
Sitting on a wooden bench in the hallway, my mind drifts back as it has so many times before, to the dream I had before coming to Utah the first time I'm still amazed at how similar the things that Adagio's mother told him were to the things spoken by our son in my dream. Just as I was told that I would face times of sorrow before receiving blessings beyond measure, Adagio had been told literally the same thing pertaining to his own life by his mother. Looking back over the years, I can see that those things have come to pass several times over. Even still, the trials have been few, and the joys definitely outweigh the sorrows. I wouldn't trade any of the experiences I've had because they each had a part in shaping my life.
My eyes move to a framed picture of Adagio and me. It sits on a small table by the bench. We'd had it taken when we came back for a visit last year. There is also a copy of it in Italy in our bedroom. I lightly run my fingers across the glass, my eyes fixed on my husband's face. I can't help smiling as ponder all we've gone through together and how our marriage came to be. Our love is as constant as the day is long, and I know it will always be, because the love we share is a rare one. It is a gift. Of this, I am certain.
Leaning back, I close my eyes and let my thoughts once again drift back to the morning after our wedding.
I stood looking through the balcony door of our suite, wrapped in a long, thick bathrobe. I was still reeling over the fact that I was Adagio's wife, and the happiness enfolding me was indescribable. As I gazed out at the large buildings scattered all over downtown, I was freshly amazed at the course my life had taken. It's almost as if I had lived multiple lives. The life I lived before coming to Salt Lake had in part consisted of terrible choices, which brought both pain and misery. The life I'd lived since moving here had been full of joy, then grief unlike anything I had ever experienced.
Then Adagio claimed my heart and now a new life had begun. Though I was moving away, I would always love this city, and I am sure Adagio probably loved it just as much. It would forever be a special place for us because it was here that we had both lost someone we loved very much. I lost a husband, he lost a best friend and brother, and subsequently we found an even greater love in each other.
Turning my head to the side, my eyes slipped shut as Adagio pressed a warm kiss to my ear and softly said, "I feel like a new man with you, amore. You have totally changed my life." He sighed, tightening his embrace a little. "Being with you like this feels like home, like this is where I was always meant to be."
Turning in his arms, I looked into his eyes, pressing a hand to his face. "I feel the same." I was thoughtful for a moment. "You know, the first time you held me in your arms and kissed me, it was as if everything made sense, like the pieces of my life suddenly fit. It was an amazing feeling."
Pressing his lips lightly to mine, he whispered, "Our love is amazing. And our life together will be as well." He released a breathy sigh before fully claiming my mouth with his.
As my thoughts return to the present, I am again grateful for my life. I have the love of a good man, and I have my children. I can't ask for anything more. And I know that no matter what trials come in the future, we will continue to make it through them. We will face them and survive. Of this also, I have no doubt.
"What are you doing, amore?" Adagio's loving voice breaks through my pondering.
I look up and smile. He is standing before me barefoot with his hands in his pockets. I silently let my gaze roam over him a moment, admiring the way the jeans and t-shirt fit his lean, muscular form. Other than the graying at his temples and the length of his hair, he hasn't changed.
"Just remembering," I finally answer.
Sitting next to me on the bench, he draws me into his arms. I hold one of his strong hands in mine and relax in his warm embrace. His lips graze my brow. "Good memories I hope."
"Very good memories. This house and city are filled with them."
"It is always nice to come back."
"It is," I agree. Closing my eyes, I snuggle deeper in his embrace. "But it will be good to get back home."
He sighs, resting his head against mine. "I miss home as well."
"Well, everything is packed, except for what we will need in the morning."
"I am guessing the suitcases are probably bursting at the seams."
"Just about. But at least I didn't have to sit on them this time. That's progress, isn't it?"
"That is progress," he agrees with a tired chuckle. "I think I will turn in now. Are you coming?"
"I'll be there in a moment, okay?"
"Okay." He kisses me, then stands and stretches.
As I watch him walked away, I am again full of gratitude for his love. We share the same life force and are connected in a way that can never be explained. And I don't know where I would be without him.
* * *
Standing in front of the open bedroom window, Adagio stares up at the stars in the night sky and waits for Cisely. As always, he has enjoyed their time in Utah, but he really is looking forward to returning home. He reflects on their decision to have Mali come and stay with them for a month and feels sure they made the right choice.
He hates to admit it, but deep down, a part of him is angry at Paul for what he has put his family through. Adagio and Paul have never been as close as Cisely and Wendy are, but they had been friends. Adagio always enjoyed the times he and Cisely spent with Wendy and Paul in the past, and he had felt he knew Paul pretty well. Now, as he contemplates their friendship, he realizes he didn't know the man nearly as well as he'd thought. He will never be able to understand how Paul could leave his family. How could he give up a wonderful life with the people who loved him so easily? Nothing is worth that, not even another pretty face, no matter how bad things are at home. True, Adagio has never walked in anyone's shoes but his own, and he was never present in Wendy's home to know what went on in their daily lives, but he does know this: no one, and absolutely nothing will tear his family apart. He won't let it. Cisely and their children are his life. And his wife, the woman who holds his very soul in the palm of her hand, is worth everything.
"Siete gioia della mia anima, amore. You are my soul's joy," he whispers into the breeze softly blowing through the window. "My soul's delight."
"And you are mine," Cisely whispers behind him. Adagio slowly turns and she smiles at him, and he is completely warmed by the love he sees in her eyes. "Ti amo," she whispers, opening her arms.
"Ti amo," he breathes, moving into her embrace.