The Complete Legacy Series: Books 1 - 6 Read online

  In one motion, she swooped an arm across the shelf, catching everything that she could touch to send it all crashing to the floor. She opened the small cupboards below and began hurling out the papers that had been stored there—looking for what, she didn’t even know.

  She was pulling out files and books and other papers when something caught her eye. It was a plain manila envelope, but there was something inside that caused a slight bulge. Arianna could hear Gigi calling to her from downstairs, sounding slightly panicked, but she couldn’t speak through her sobs as she sat down on the floor to open the envelope.

  She tilted the envelope and a small bracelet fell into her lap. It was silver and looked expensive. Arianna’s breath caught as she pried the small attached locket open. It was a picture of an infant, and it could have very well been Arianna, similar to the one that Lia had showed her in Tuscany. But she sobbed with recognition because she knew that it wasn’t.

  She pulled out the papers that lined the inside of the envelope. One was a typewritten document that consisted of a few pages stapled together. The other was a handwritten note on her mother’s stationery. As she skimmed the note, tears streaming down her face, she realized that Gigi had quietly entered the room and was kneeling down beside her.

  Gigi sat on the plush carpet with her back against the shelf with everything strewn about, and pulled Arianna’s head into her lap, stroking her hair.

  “Bella, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Gigi said in a voice that was both soothing and strong. Exactly what Arianna needed as she tried to focus on Gigi’s words and the motion of her comforting fingers running through her hair.

  Finally, after several minutes, Arianna felt that she could breath again and held the letter up for Gigi to see. “It’s from my mother. I found a letter from my mother. And look.” Arianna held the tiny picture up for Gigi to see. “This is my daughter.” Arianna started sobbing uncontrollably and wrapped her arms around Gigi’s middle.

  “There, there, bella. Let’s see now.” Gigi reached for the picture and held it up to the light shining in from the window. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Gigi quickly wiped the tears streaming out of her own eyes.

  Arianna opened her hand to release the letter from her mother. “I only skimmed it. Will you read it to me?”

  “Let’s have a look then.” Gigi reached around her neck for her reading glasses.

  My Dear Arianna,

  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started this letter to you only to end up throwing it into the fire, never to be found by a soul. Try as I might to be honest with you, I cannot. It’s my problem, not yours. I am a weaker woman than you by far.

  I look at you, at the woman you’ve become, and I’m amazed. Not because we—your father and I—have done anything right; we’ve done everything wrong. Yet, I marvel at your strength and the courage that you have to be your own woman, to go after what you want.

  I fear that one of my deepest regrets in life will be tearing that child—your child—out of your arms. I will never forget that day as long as I live, and I will spend every moment of my life in regret that I could not have been the strong mother that you deserved, Ari.

  You could have done it, could have been the mother to your child that you wanted to be, even at your young age. I know that now.

  I can only hope that someday you might forgive me, that I’d be able to talk to you and laugh with you and hug you as any mother longs to with her daughter. I fear that I’ve lost that opportunity forever and I don’t blame you. I only blame myself.

  When your daughter was born, the nurse gave me the picture that they’d taken of her sleeping so soundly and looking every bit like you. I couldn’t bear to get rid of the picture, as much as I’d wanted to erase her from your memory that day.

  If I ever find the courage to give you this letter, along with it will come your daughter’s picture and the papers that we do have from the birth and adoption that took place that day. I know it’s not much to go on and I know it’s too late, but maybe one day you’ll be able to forgive me for the choices I made. For the choices I made for you. I know that I cannot forgive myself. I only hope that you will not carry a burden of guilt with you for what your father and I made you do.

  I do love you Arianna…with all my heart.

  Your mother.

  Gigi finished reading the letter and silently laid it down on the floor beside her, holding Arianna tightly to her as the exhausted girl wept openly in her arms. Arianna felt so tired. Something had shifted inside her. It was as if a dam had broken and all of the leftover tears that she hadn’t wept were now coming. She’d been afraid for a long time to cry at all, to express the rage that she’d felt tonight. And suddenly it was over. With the letter that her mother hadn’t had the courage to give her, she finally felt some of the love and sorrow that had been missing since she’d given birth to her daughter.

  She peered now at the other documents. In them were the details about the time and birth of the daughter she’d only gotten to hold once in her lifetime —that she would only ever hold that one time. Arianna wiped the tears from her face. There was the name of the adoption agency, so it was possible that her daughter could eventually be found.

  Gigi shifted the placement of her hand around Arianna’s back to tilt her face up towards her. “Bella, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think I am, actually. Gi, do you think my mother loved me?”

  “I do. I think she loved you as much as she could. I think your mother was afraid to love you. One day I heard her crying to your father. I think she knew about Lia—that she’d come looking for you. Maybe she’d overheard him on the phone with her. I heard them talking—your parents. She was crying about losing you. That she couldn’t bear it—that she needed to make things right with you. And then the accident happened.” Gigi looked Arianna in the eyes before continuing. “I think it’s best for you if you can forgive your mother—your parents. For as long as I’ve known them, I think they tried. They really did. That wanted you so desperately, and when you had your struggles—the rough patch and the pregnancy—well, they just weren’t prepared for that. But I think they loved you. I do.”

  Arianna was quiet for a few minutes. “I think they did love me too.” She sighed. “I wish they would have trusted me. You know, to make the decision for myself. I think it’s not so much the fact that they forced me to give her up—God, the way everything has happened, it really was the best thing for her, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t have wanted to put her through this now. But I think it’s the fact that they made such a big decision for me. I didn’t even have a voice in it. And I’ve hated myself for that.” Arianna’s voice caught as another sob escaped. “I’ve hated myself every day since the day I let them take my baby out of my arms.”

  “I know, bella. I know.” Gigi was crying silently too. “Ari, I think it’s time to forgive your parents and yourself.”

  “I’m not sure I know how to do that,” Arianna cried. “I want to. I really do. I feel like something has changed in me today though. Finding this letter. God, finding this information about my daughter. And the picture.” Arianna held up the locket so that she and Gigi could both see the picture of the infant girl. “I have a picture of my daughter. And she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Gigi nodded her head. “Bellissima.” Arianna didn’t have to look at her to know that she was grinning as she said it.

  It was time for forgiveness.

  Chapter 37

  Arianna woke up the next morning with a dreadful headache. Her body felt hot; she rang Gigi when she discovered that she couldn’t make it to the bathroom on her own.

  “I think I should take you to the doctor. You’re not looking well at all,” Gigi said with a worried look on her face.

  “No, I think I just need to be in bed. I have a meeting with Doc—later this morning. I really wanted to see her today.” Arianna had the strangest feeling and wondered if it would be worth asking Doc to come visi
t her at home. She knew that she was in no shape to make the trip into the city today and she desperately wanted to talk to her—for one last time.

  “Gigi, do you think maybe Doc could come here today? I hate to ask her but—” Arianna could hardly get the words out, her head hurt so bad.

  Gigi handed Arianna two pills and her glass of water from the bedside table. “Bella, you take this and rest. I’ll call your therapist and tell her you’re not well today. Let’s see what we can do, shall we?”

  Gigi left to make the phone call, leaving Arianna to fall back into a restless sleep. She’d been dreaming a lot lately. Blissful dreams—the kind one didn’t want to wake up from. Happy times that she’d had with Lia in Tuscany, surrounded by all of her friends at the villa. There was a dream of her with a child—a young girl whom she thought was Jemma. They were sitting together playing in the garden, the young girl’s back to her, when suddenly the little girl turned around and she realized it was her daughter, with her dark brown eyes and long lovely dark tresses of hair. She awoke from that dream with a start, and a longing in her heart that wouldn’t go away.

  But, oddly, she was beginning to feel a strange sense of calm. It had started last night after Gigi had read her her mother’s letter. Her mother had longed for Arianna’s forgiveness, and this morning she woke up with the sense that she could and had forgiven her mother. Her parents had wanted her, they’d chosen her, and there were times when they’d shown her the kind of love that she’d longed for later—after the pregnancy. It was as if she was suddenly aware of this wall tumbling down around her heart, and she knew that the timing was right. There wasn’t time for bitterness and resentments. Her time was running out now.

  Arianna nestled down into her thick blankets as Gigi knocked quietly on her door.

  “Bella, are you awake? I brought you some tea and I have some good news for you.”

  Arianna sat up and rubbed her eyes, then her head. “Did you get hold of Doc?”

  “Si, yes. She is coming here in one hour. Don’t get dressed. I’ll see her in and you can talk to her here in your room.”

  Arianna smiled at Gigi. “Thank you for that. I think I can make it downstairs. In fact some fresh air would do me some good. Let’s have our session in the garden. I’d like that, and I want to show it to Doc. I’ve told her about it a few times. I’ll just be down in a few minutes.”

  “Do you need some help getting dressed?” Gigi said.

  Arianna started to shake her head and then seemed to think better of it. “Yes, I think I do.” God, she was so tired, and her head hurt so much that it was hard to think.

  Gigi helped Arianna dress in a comfy pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt that would help guard her from the early morning chill outside. Arianna asked Gigi to grab her journal and pencil from the bedside table, and they made their way together down the stairs and out into the cool morning sunshine.

  Gigi helped Arianna to get set up in her favorite lounge chair outside, bringing her a heavy blanket to wrap around her legs. The sun on her face felt so good. She was going to miss mornings like these. Arianna sighed as she looked out over the view. She hoped that the people whom she loved would continue to meet at this place, in this garden. That there would be happy times and laughter ahead. She loved imagining that here.

  Arianna opened her journal and thumbed her way to the last pages, where she was almost finished. She caught herself thinking that it was time to buy a new journal. There would be no more journals for her. She’d just have to end it well. She smiled. She knew how the story—her story—would end, and it was a good ending, a better ending than she ever could have imagined a few short months ago. She was creating a different future. She knew that now.

  She had come as far as she could in her own journey, but she could leave a legacy for those she loved. She felt herself getting a little burst of energy even now as she thought and wrote about what her hopes were for the future. She couldn’t help but smile as she thought about what she intended to give to Lia, what she wanted for Blu and Jemma, for Gigi—and she still held high hopes that Gigi’s future included Douglas. And she hoped to leave a legacy for the daughter who never knew her. She wanted that more than anything, and she would choose to believe that it was possible. That someday this young girl would become a young woman and she would know the love of a mother who’d given birth to her. Arianna had to believe that this was possible. It was what she was holding on to now.

  Arianna gave a start as she heard Gigi at the door to the house. “Arianna, Docter Jonas is here.” Gigi led Doc out into the sunshine as Arianna looked up from what she was writing.

  “Hi, Doc.” Arianna grinned widely. “Thanks so much for making the trip out here. It means a lot to me.” She tried to get up off her chair, but winced in pain.

  “Don’t get up, Ari. It’s okay.” Doc walked over to sit in the chair next to her. “So this is the garden I’ve heard so much about. The view really is lovely.” She bent down to give Arianna a little hug. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, you know. I’ve had better days.” Arianna tried to laugh but it came out as a slight grimace. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Yes, Gigi—who does seem lovely, by the way—is getting me some tea, thanks.”

  Gigi delivered Doc’s tea and then excused herself.

  Arianna and Doc sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea and taking in the view of the bridge and the bay.

  After a few minutes, Arianna stirred.

  “What would you like to talk about today, Ari?” Doc said.

  “I have a lot to tell you, actually. A lot that happened just last night. I thought I’d need help processing it all, but oddly enough, after writing in my journal before you came, I feel a strange sense of peace about it. About everything.”

  “That’s good, Ari. Very good.” Doc leaned in to hear Ari’s quiet words.

  Arianna recounted the events of the night before to Doc, and in telling it she found herself feeling oddly void of emotion. Not that she didn’t feel anything, but it was as if she’d already spent all of her tears and thoughts about it all.

  The two sat in silence for several minutes and finally Arianna spoke quietly.

  “I think this is it, Doc. I don’t have much time now.” She wasn’t exactly sad or scared. She just felt a certainty about it and about what she wanted now more than ever before. Arianna took a deep breath in and pulled the blanket tight around her legs. “I’ll say goodbye to you today.” She looked at Doc with the first sign of tears coming to her eyes. “And thank you—for everything.”

  Doc looked at her, and for the first time Arianna saw emotion on her face as she too wiped at the tears that threatened to stream. “Arianna, it’s been my pleasure. You’re a dear young woman and my hope for you is that you feel a sense of contentment. Do you?”

  Arianna nodded her head and looked thoughtful. “I feel contentment, but more than that, actually. It’s a sense of peace that I’ve never had before. I feel years older—like I have lived a lifetime. I don’t know if that makes sense?”

  Doc nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “I finally have a sense of how I can make a difference, you know? I’ve never cared about that before—not even after the accident, my breakdown—or even my diagnosis. It’s like that trusting piece was missing in my life, from everything; and all at once—once I learned that it was okay not to know how things were going to turn out—everything fell into place and I finally started to live my life in a way that mattered.”

  “That’s wonderful, Ari. Many people live much longer lives and can’t say as much. I think you should feel proud of yourself for how far you’ve come. It seems like you’ve gotten closer to the people in your life that you care about, and I’m sure that it’s the greatest gift that you could ever give to them.”

  Arianna nodded in agreement, knowing that she could do more—that she would do more. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right, and they’d probably agree wit
h you on that.”

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes and Arianna noticed that Doc wasn’t looking at her watch today. She also noticed that she hadn’t brought her notebook with her. It was nice. Another relationship that was coming full circle. She could almost see a checklist in her mind, although that seemed a bit cold and she didn’t mean for it to be. But there was a list, of course. People that she had to say goodbye to. People that needed to know how much she loved them.

  She stood now, wanting to give Doc the excuse she needed to get back into the city. “Well, I should let you go. I’m sure that you have other patients to see today besides me, although I greatly appreciate the house call.”

  Doc stood too. “It’s okay. I’ve cleared my schedule today.”

  Arianna looked at her curiously.

  “I thought maybe I could use a little time to myself after our meeting.” Doc seemed to be trying to fight back tears, and there was no mistaking the look on her face. Arianna appreciated it in that moment. It wasn’t a lack of professionalism, but an authentic show of who she was as a person. Of who she’d been to Arianna.

  Arianna crossed the short distance between them and wrapped her arms around Doc tighter than she’d ever done before, not worrying about how it made either of them feel. “Thank you,” Arianna said.

  Doc nodded, turned and, led by Gigi, who had appeared during the last minute or so, walked back into the house.

  Arianna spent the remainder of the day resting in bed, growing more and more tired, yet determined to get the things done that had to be done. Pictures were put together, letters written, and boxes tucked away to be opened later. She thought to herself how interesting it was that she had this time of preparation when her own mother had not before she died. She couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been had her mother had the chance to give her the letter and information herself, rather than for Arianna to have found it the way that she did.