That Kind -

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 Chapter 8

I have been staying at Adagio's home for the past few days and I've enjoyed every minute I have been able to spend with him. To make things easier, he'd chosen the guest room on the main floor for me. After walking me around the entire floor a few times, I finally know the layout enough that I'm able to move around freely without bumping into things.

I brought my violin and cello with me, and we spend an hour or so each day immersed in music, playing duets on Adagio's baby grand, or accompanying each other, him on the piano and me on strings. The result is both stirring and beautiful. I don't think my playing will ever be the same, not without his beautiful notes present, the combination of the two swelling in the silence.

My cell phone has been ringing on and off throughout each day. I cringe every time I hear my parents' number on the caller ID, and by the end of the day I usually wind up deleting at least fifty messages from my father. Some are civil while others are vulgar and hateful. I wasn't aware my father knew such a disgusting vocabulary, and his liberal use of it takes a toll on my spirit. Each night Adagio holds me and I cry myself to sleep, only to awaken the next morning tucked safely in bed. His tender care makes me love him more each day. And that is truly what I feel. I have yet to speak the words. Part of me is afraid to. For now, I will keep them to myself.

* * *

Two days later when I check my voice mail, there is an emotional message from Mother.

“Evangeline, it's me. Your father is in the hospital. He was driving drunk and hit someone head on. He is on life support and isn't expected to make it. Oh, Evangeline, please come. I can't do this alone. Please come.”

* * *

Adagio's hand is clasped tightly in mine as I enter the hospital room, and I am grateful. There is no way I would have agreed to come without him here for moral support. His strength buoys me up and gives me courage. It is startling how much I have grown to depend on him during this past week.

Pressing his lips to my ear, he whispers, “Your mother is sitting by the bed.”

The room is silent except for the ventilator breathing for Father. I can feel Mother's gaze on me and it's a little unnerving. For a change, I guess I will need to speak first.

“When did it happen?”

“Last night,” comes Mother's soft answer. I hear the strain in her voice. “He had gone back to your place several times, determined to see you. He finally decided to call the police and report your 'abduction.'” When my eyes widen in incredulous surprise, she goes on. “I managed to talk him out of it, convincing him that making a false report like that is a serious thing and he would be putting himself in a bad situation, which would not look good for the company.”

I know she senses my relief. I don't know what I would have done if Adagio had been picked up and thrown in jail for abducting me, when nothing was further from the truth. “Thank you for stopping him.” Though she is silent, I sense her acknowledgment.

“Last night I received a call from someone in accounting. I was told the truth about your father and why he has become so obsessed with gaining a partnership with almost anyone he can.” She hesitates a moment. “It seems he has been embezzling money from Mercury with the help of an accounting employee who is no longer there. He has been using the money to pay off gambling debts I had no idea he acquired.”

That explains a lot. He had been willing to sacrifice me, his own daughter, to pay off his gambling debts. Only someone with no love in their heart could do something that low and degrading. Everything inside me wants to burrow myself in a corner somewhere and cry my eyes out. The gentle squeeze of Adagio's hand comforts me and assures me of his unwavering support.

“What happened?” I ask, prompting her to continue.

“When I confronted him about practically ruining the company, he became even angrier and said he was going out again to find you. I told him to just leave you alone, that we had hurt you enough, but . . .”

“The bruise on your cheek is the result,” Adagio finishes for her, surprising me. I wait for Mother to speak again. Her silence touches a small part of my heart. I swore I would never let that happen again.

“How are you?” I finally ask.

“Oh, I'm . . . well, I . . .”

Her voice breaks, and so does my heart in her behalf. Moving in the direction of her voice, I put out my hand. The room isn't light enough for me to make out her shadow. A few seconds later she timidly takes it and I feel her shaking.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. Oh, Evangeline, I'm so sorry for everything. I will regret how we've treated you–how I've treated you–every day for the rest of my life. I held back so much from you. I have a lot to answer to, and make up for.” Her gentle hand on my cheek surprises me and fills me with a longed-for sense of joy. “I promise I will do everything I can to try to earn your trust, your respect, and your love. I know it won't be easy, but . . .” Her voice cracks and she says nothing more.

I don't need to hear anything more. And I don't try to stop the tears this time. I allow them to run unchecked down my face. My step forward meets hers and we embrace. In the cradle of my mother's arms, I release years of hurt, anger and neglect, my heart opening to her after a long season of keeping it under lock and key.

Drawing back, I again feel the touch of Mother's hand gently pressing against my cheek. “I promise to never abandon you again.”

I smile. “I promise you the same.”

* * *

A warm tear trails down Adagio's face as he witnesses the sweet and tender, long-awaited reunion of the woman his heart and soul cries out for, and the mother she thought she'd lost forever. Watching them share smiles and maternal embraces, healing each other after so much hurt, fills a part of him that has been empty since losing his grandparents. And when Evangeline's mother moves to Adagio, takes his hand and says, “My name is Kathryn and I'm pleased to meet you,” he truly feels blessed.

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