The Legacy - The Legacy Saga

The Legacy - Part 7

 Twenty-nine

Adagio and Cisely relax on a wooden bench beneath a large walnut tree and watch some children playing in the distance. A soft breeze rustles the leaves on the trees and pigeons coo to one another as they snatch up the bread crumbs they toss their way. Even with the distant sounds of downtown in the background, their surroundings are peaceful.

"You've been away from home so long," Cisely comments. "Do you have someone looking after your house for you?"

"I have a cleaning lady named Anna who comes in twice a week. She has a key and keeps an eye on things for me. Her son is one of my chefs, so she is very trustworthy."

"It's good your work is at home. You have lots of eyes watching out for you that way."

Smiling, Adagio turns his emerald gaze to her, taking in the highlights of her dark auburn hair. He understands why she is making these comments and can almost read her thoughts. "Ingo used to say you are too noble for your own good sometimes."

She smiles. "He said that to me, too."

"He was right. I see that now." He catches her chin in his hand. "Cisely, look at me." When her eyes meet his, he says, "Please stop worrying. Everything is fine at home."

"I can't help it."

He takes her hand and squeezes. "You are going to have to help it, because you are not getting rid of me."

She gives him a slow grin. "Is that a threat?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, then."

That is the last she says on the subject and he hopes she truly understands. He isn't going anywhere. He is where he's supposed to be.

 * * * 

Adagio helps out by cooking dinner for us a couple of extra days a week. I have grown to love his cooking, even crave it. An Italian restaurant downtown has always been my favorite place to eat because I love good Italian food, but now my favorite meals are the ones Adagio cooks. His meals are amazing. He believes in variety and never cooks a dish the same way twice, and I love each and every meal.

Adagio usually gives us a mini Italian lesson, pretending to be an eccentric cooking instructor, and by the time he is finished, Jessica and I are holding our sides from laughing so hard. Whenever I improvise my speaking of the language and try to match his Italian accent, it sends him into fits of laughter as well. Because of these times, we are slowly building some joyful memories.

I also cook some Italian meals, with Adagio's assistance, of course. When a dish turns out well, he praises me. When it turns out not so good, he still gives me an A for effort, and he and Jessica eat it anyway. This is definitely the sign of a good friend–to eat a terrible meal without complaint.

At night Jessica and Adagio visit while I play the piano softly. I had all but stopped playing when Ingo died, but Adagio coaxed me into playing again. He knows how much I love playing and I'm grateful for the extra push.

During our visits, Adagio and I grow to learn more about each other's lives as we open up and share experiences from our pasts, as well as our hopes and fears for the future. In the process, our mutual admiration grows, as well as the bond we share. We talk of Ingo often and the impact he had on our lives. We share our own private stories of him, some of them producing bouts of laughter, and others bringing bittersweet tears. But even the tearful moments are a little easier because we have each other to lean on. I am really grateful for that.

Jessica is also glad Adagio is here and appreciates the support he gives her. His strength is a boon and his presence brings great comfort. She will miss him when he finally returns to Italy.