by Paula Kay
Lia pulled a small envelope out and tilted it until a silver piece of jewelry landed in the palm of her hand. She stretched it out so that Isabella could see that it was a locket. She opened it to reveal a small picture of a dark-haired infant.
Isabella’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Is it—is that me?”
Lia was nodding her head. “It is.”
Isabella took the bracelet out of Lia’s hand and brought it nearer where she could study the infant in the picture. “Did Ari—did my mother hold me when I was born?” Her words felt choked as she struggled to get them out through the emotion she was feeling.
Lia reached out to stroke Isabella’s hair, and she looked like she was barely managing to hold back her own tears as she spoke. “She did, bella. She held you on her chest for a few seconds after you were born. She saw how beautiful you were. She never forgot how you looked that day—not for one second.”
Isabella nodded her head and swiped at her tears with her hand. She set the bracelet down on the table next to the urn and took a deep breath in, waiting because she knew that Lia had more to share with her.
Lia pulled what looked like a picture album from the box. It was big enough that it just fit within the sides of the space that contained it. “This was your mother’s modeling book.”
“My mother was a model?” She was surprised that no one had told her this about Arianna, although it certainly wasn’t surprising because she was so beautiful.
“She was, yes. She was discovered as a teen-ager by an agent and did mostly print work up until the time of her parent’s accident. But actually, it’s not her modeling pictures that are in this book.” Lia opened it to the first page which, showed a single shot of Arianna making a goofy face—the first of many selfies that she’d taken during those last few months of her life.
Isabella smiled and took the album into her lap as she turned the page.
“She didn’t like her modeling pics at the end. She said one time that they were all fake—not the real her at all—and she wanted you to see her as she was during those last months—before she was so sick…” Lia’s voice trailed off, and Isabella didn’t miss how hard it might be for Lia as they looked at these pictures—many of which were taken during their time spent together in Italy.
Isabella reached over to take her grandmother’s hand as she turned the page to see a picture of Lia and Ari together, the wind blowing their hair, both of their faces in wide grins as they smiled for the camera.
And there was picture after picture of Arianna looking happy and healthy, some with the others—Blu, Jemma, Gigi and Lia—and some just of herself—in her convertible, walking across the Golden Gate Bridge, sitting in the garden that Lia said she loved so much. All of these pictures helped Isabella to feel just that much closer to her, like she was glimpsing just a little bit more of who her mother was—of the woman who had desperately wanted Isabella to know her.
Isabella wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath in, knowing there were still a few items in the box. This was more difficult than she’d imagined it would be, but it was why she’d come here—to learn everything she could about her mother. And she felt Arianna’s presence and her intentions in the careful assembly of these things that she’d put together for a daughter that she’d never know.
She looked up when she heard a quiet knock at the half-opened door. She smiled when she saw Gigi and Blu, with Jemma right behind them. “Come in.”
“We’re interrupting,” Blu said when she glanced over to see what Isabella and Lia were looking at.
“Yes, we can come back,” Gigi said, turning to leave.
“No, no. Stay. I don’t mind.” Isabella turned to Lia. “If it’s okay with you?”
“This is all about you, sweet girl.” Lia leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.”
The women walked in the room nearer to the little sitting area, Gigi and Blu taking seats on the remaining two chairs and Jemma folding her legs underneath her as she sat down near where Isabella sat on the sofa.
“Oh, the box,” Jemma, said smiling. “All of the mysteries of the box.”
Lia laughed lightly. “Honey, you were too young to understand what all of this meant back then.”
“Oh, I know. I’m totally happy for you, girl. It’s exciting.” Jemma reached up to give Isabella a big hug.
The hug and the emotions behind it were true and sweet and it caught Isabella by surprise. Ever since she’d gotten here, being with these women had made her feel special, like she was part of a secret club—a club that she fit into easily, just because of the person that she was.
Jemma was peering into the box. “So what’s left?” She winked.
Lia pulled out several books, some of which were nicer—with leather covers—and some of which looked like plain notebooks that one would buy for school. She placed them on the table and all the women stared at them. “You should read these later—probably when you’re alone. We’ve never read them. They’re just for you.”
The other women were nodding their heads in agreement and sharing in the knowledge that they understood exactly what these hundreds of pieces of paper represented.
“What—what is this—what are they?” Isabella reached out to slide her fingers across the worn leather cover of the book that lay on top of the pile. Her heart beat faster. She thought she understood but she couldn’t be sure until she opened the first cover to peak inside. “My mother kept a journal?”
Gigi was nodding her head. “That girl wrote in her journal nearly every day. It was one of her most favorite things to do. She said that it relaxed her.”
Lia was nodding. “She was a great writer, actually. We’ve got some of her short stories, and you can read those too.” She pulled out one of the leather journals near the top of the pile. “This one is special. She told me to have you read the blue one first.”
Isabella didn’t bother to try to stop the tears as they made their way down her face. Her mother was a writer—just like her. It was overwhelming to her—that she was going to be able to read all of these pages of emotions and feelings that had poured out of her mother over the course of her life.
“This is all so incredible, isn’t it? I mean, I can’t believe that she did this for me.”
“Bella, Ari would have done anything for you. She loved you very much,” Gigi said.
“During her final time with us, she made each of us promise that you would know that about her—that you would know how much she loved you—how much she wanted for you to be happy,” said Lia, hugging Isabella close. “It’s so wonderful that we finally have that opportunity with you—and that we get a chance to love you too.”
Isabella was feeling emotionally drained as she stacked up the journals on the table next to the other items.
Jemma sat forward to peer into the box still on the sofa between Isabella and Lia. “There’s something else in there.” She reached in to take out a large folded paper and handed it to Isabella.
“What’s this?”
Lia was moving everything from the table in front of them back into the box.
“Unfold it—here on the table.”
Chapter 28
Gigi moved around to help Isabella unfold what looked like a large piece of paper out onto the coffee table. “It’s the map,” she said.
“What map?”
“Ari’s map.” Gigi smoothed it out across the table with her hand, a funny look on her face. “She used to sit with it spread out on the floor of her room, planning this magnificent trip—the trip of a lifetime, she called it.”
It was a world map, dotted with marker, stickers and little notes. Isabella smiled when she saw that the Tuscany region of Italy had a gold star with the words “start here” written in Arianna’s handwriting.
She thought about her own stash of travel books back home in her closet and how she’d spent hours poring over them planning her own trip of a lifetime—a trip that had always had a slim chance of actually hap
pening for so many different reasons.
Jemma put her head close to Isabella’s as they looked over the areas marked—there were several countries marked throughout Europe besides Italy—Portugal, Spain, Germany and Greece. There were marks for several spots throughout Asia, Australia, New Zealand, Central and South America.
“Was she planning a trip around the world?” Isabella directed her question toward Gigi, who seemed to know the most about the map.
“Yes, she was. Her father’s travel agent was helping her to plan it right before they were killed in the plane crash. It was Ari’s graduation present from them.” Gigi pulled a tissue out from her pocket and wiped at her eyes.
Isabella was reminded of all the devastation that Gigi had suffered with the loss of the entire Sinclair family. She reached over to take Gigi’s hand as she continued to speak.
“Then when Ari found out she was dying, it was the only thing she wanted to do—to take this whirlwind trip around the world, which of course had us all worried to death.” Gigi looked toward Blu, who was nodding her head.
“Yes, that was a difficult time—trying to be supportive of her wishes while at the same time thinking about her health, but there was no convincing her otherwise. Besides, it wasn’t our place to say, really,” said Blu. “Ari was gonna do whatever she wanted to do and she wanted to take this trip.”
“Except, then she met me,” Lia said.
“That’s right.” Gigi smiled. “And she never regretted the decision to do the trip with you here. She told me that it was the best time of her life.”
They were all quiet and Isabella’s thoughts and emotions were racing. She’d learned so much about her mother over the last few days. She never in a million years would have guessed that they would share such similar passions—and talents. It was hard to put into words, and she knew that it was something she had yet to process.
As she looked around at the women sitting next to her, all linked by a common love for the young woman who had meant so much to them and who had really changed their lives by what she’d given them, Isabella felt a part of it all—a part of them. And she did feel her mother’s love for her. She knew that it was exactly the right time and exactly what her mother had hoped for.
Lia leaned in to give her a hug and kiss, and as if on cue, the others stood up.
“We’ll leave you alone, honey. This is a lot to take in and I’m sure you’d like some time to yourself,” said Lia.
Isabella nodded, picking up the blue journal from the stack on the table, holding it close to her chest.
“Thank you. I don’t even know what to say about all this. I’m a little overwhelmed, to be honest. I’ll come join you all in a little while.”
Jemma stopped to give her another big hug before she walked out the door. “Take all the time you need.”
Isabella returned to the small sofa with the blue journal still in her hands. Her heart pounding slightly faster than normal, she slowly folded the leather cover back to peek inside at the pages that her mother had wanted her to read first.
She felt her throat constrict and the forming of instant tears as she realized that she was looking at a letter from her mother.
Chapter 29
My Dearest Daughter,
I’m so sorry that these words will never be spoken for you to hear them from my lips. I wanted so badly to meet you one day—to hold you in my arms finally for more than just the short seconds we had together the day that you were born.
I’m sorry that you might have unanswered questions. It was never my intention to not be able to share with you all the thoughts I’ve ever had about you ever since the day that you were born, but fate had something else in mind, so the words on this page and the words spoken by those closest to me will have to be enough. I pray that it will be.
Where to start…there’s so much to say, isn’t there?
I want you to know, most of all, that every day I’ve regretted that I didn’t fight harder to keep you. I never wanted to give you up, but I think, given the circumstances, perhaps it has been the best thing for you after all. I’ve hoped and prayed every day that you’ve had a good life—that you’ve felt loved and that you’ve had everything you could need to be happy.
Your happiness is what drives me daily now as I watch the clock tick toward the end for me.
By the time you are reading this letter, you will have met everyone that has meant so much to me—Gigi—hopefully Douglas is still by her side—her husband if I’ve had any say in it. ;)
Isabella laughed out loud through her tears at Arianna, the matchmaker, at work.
—Lia (your grandmother), Blu and Jemma.
My greatest wish now is that you would know them all and be loved by them all the way that I was—and that they will have the chance to know you too.
I know you might be wondering about your father. I’ve not spoken a great deal about him to the others. I’m afraid that I’ve not been fair to him about any of this—your birth or my death. He loved me at one time and he deserved to know about you, but my parents wouldn’t allow it while they were alive and—well, I’m sorry to say that I was a coward in that regard. But I think he’d want to know you, so I will leave that to you and in the back of this book, you’ll find his name and the last known address and phone number that I have for him. Locating him is something that Douglas can probably help you with if that time should come—and why shouldn’t it? You deserve to know the full truth of who you are, my sweet girl.
Her father. Isabella had asked Douglas about it during one of their earliest conversations and he’d said that, sadly, it wasn’t something that Arianna had ever really talked to him about. She turned to the last page of the journal, running her fingers over the name and information that might one day lead her to her birth father. It was another piece of the puzzle—this time given to her by her mother. She took a deep breath and turned back toward the front of the journal to continue reading the letter.
By now, Douglas will have told you about the trust that I’ve set up for you and all about the wealth that I’d grown up with. None of it ever really meant that much to me except I know that it bought me some opportunities in life that I might not have known otherwise. It definitely bought me some special experiences with Lia and with the others—those are the things that have meant the most to me during these last days.
I want you to use the money for your education if that’s your wish or your need, but you have my blessing to use it for your dreams—whatever those might be—and truly there is plenty there for everything you could ever want for. I love that I can give that to you now and I only wish that I could be there to share in it all with you.
Isabella thought about all of her mom’s journals she had yet to read and the map that was tucked into the box of things that Arianna had wanted her to have. It was as if that little box held every bit of confirmation that she’d never even realized she could seek about what she’d always known in her heart—about her own dreams to be a writer and maybe even travel the world one day. She flashed back to the question that Jemma had asked her just days ago—was she a lawyer or a writer?
Isabella felt a settling in her heart as she turned her attention back to the letter. In this moment, she knew exactly who she was.
Do what you like with the things in the box. My intention with each item is that they would help you to have a better sense of who I was and what my dreams were as a young girl. But don’t spend one moment worrying about me now. I’ve come to a total peace about my life and my death. I’ve forgiven myself even for the decisions made that took you from me. It is only about moving forward now, and this letter to you is a part of all that for me, just as I hope that it will be for you too.
Gigi called me bella ever since I was a small child. I remember asking her why she called me that one time. (And I bet that she is calling you bella now too.) She told me that it meant beautiful and that I was beautiful, but not only on the outside. She said that it was her term fo
r me for all the beauty I possessed inside—some of it yet to be brought out into the world.
So, my dearest daughter, I shall call you Bella—for I know that you are a true beauty, inside and out—preparing to live a life that is full of love and happiness.
That’s my wish for you, my sweet Bella.
I love you more than you could ever know.
Your Mother,
Arianna Sinclair
Isabella closed the journal and held it tightly to her chest as she sobbed. Her tears were not of sadness, but of hope for a future that had now shifted for her. With these final words from her mother came a sense of direction unlike any she’d known before in her young lifetime.
She smiled as she thought about the decisions to be made in the next few days. She was a Bella. She knew that now.
Chapter 30
Isabella knocked lightly on the door to Antonio’s office, where Gigi had sent her to talk to Douglas. She’d come downstairs and spoken with her grandparents first, about her plans and to get their blessing, which she’d felt confident that she’d have. Now she was counting on Douglas to be on board for helping her with the logistics of everything that needed to happen. She was confident about his help also, something that made her smile—that she felt she had so much support from a small group of people that she hadn’t even known a month ago.
“Come in.”
She heard Douglas’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Hi.” She poked her head in the door. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Of course. Come in.” He smiled as he took off his glasses and closed his laptop. He gestured toward the chair opposite him across the desk. “Have a seat. What’s on your mind?”