The Inheritance: Chapter 5 - Part II (Updated 11/14)
ktggoodnight:
turly this is the best story i have read in a long time! your twist and heartfelt emotions have entralled me
dnog86:
Excellent video!!! It's really well done and it made wonder what will happen next.^_^.
CuriousSimmer:
I'm working on Chapter 5 now, but also spending some time developing another story for y'all. Hopefully I'll begin the other story and continue this one this evening or tomorrow. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!
CuriousSimmer:
As usual, my game screwed up for no reason as soon as I was ready to start Chapter 5, so I'm delayed for a short time. Sorry all!
CuriousSimmer:
The Inheritance
Chapter 5 - Part I
January 1965
It was storming outside, a heavy and cold winter rain that wouldn't seem to let up. I finished my cleaning the house and the fish for dinner was broiling under Lara's careful eye downstairs, so I decided to take a bath to unwind from what had been a stressful few months.
But even with nothing but the sound of rain slapping the window, a sound I usually found relaxing, I felt tight and stressed. There was something bothering me, something I hadn't had time to think about until recently.
The water grew tepid, so I stepped out and dried off, still pondering the matter.
Was it boredom that caused Dante to stray? Or was he dissatisfied with me? I put my hair into a towel and studied my reflection in the floor-length mirror. I had never had any reason to be ashamed of my appearance before, but now my eyes were sharp and critical.
I wasn't overweight, but I certainly wasn't as slim and shapely as I had once been. I was forty six and I had had four children. Chiara Castelli was just over half my age at 28.
My hair had begun to sprout gray, a fact I covered with regular trips to Judith's hair salon. And my face had the wrinkles that one accumulated over a lifetime--nothing major, or so I thought until I looked in the mirror. My creased forehead, the laugh lines around my mouth, the crow's feet at my eyes--were these why Dante had strayed?
Had he sought youth and beauty? Would he continue to do so?
I didn't have time to dwell now, I realized as I looked at the clock. My dinner guests would be here soon enough.
When I walked out of the bedroom, I found Dante facing his own storm. He turned in his chair when he heard me come out and I went over to where he was sitting. "Nice bath?" he asked, trying to sound genial.
"Yes," I said dully. "How's the search for new lodging coming?"
"Not well," said Dante with a sigh. "We have problems."
He showed me the bills that were piling up; hospital bills from his stay after the shooting, legal fees for my attorney, and rent payments for the house we had stayed in while our house was sealed off.
"I don't have the funds for a new apartment or house," said Dante. "I thought I'd stay with mother."
"Don't be ridiculous," I told him. He looked at me hopefully. "Stay here, with your children, until you can find a convenient place to stay."
"Thank you, B--er, Elizabeth," he said, catching himself before he called me his endearing pet name. "That's very kind."
I shifted uncomfortably. "I need to go and check on the fish."
It was Friday, so I had invited Paolo and Giorgia over for dinner. The truth was, I didn't want another awkward dinner with just me, Dante, and the children. Lara was taking the divorce hard and proved to be upset with both of us.
Speaking of Lara...
She would be sixteen next month; I could scarcely believe it. My little girl, it felt like I had held her in my arms as an infant just weeks ago. Where had the time gone? As she got older, her hair trended darker so that she looked just like her father, from her hair to her eyes.
Paolo seemed to be happy--happier than I had ever seen him. Of course, we met shortly after his wife's death, so perhaps he was coming out of his shell of mourning. Whatever the case, he was witty and engaging and charming, even to Dante.
It was nice to have a dinner that wasn't punctuated by painful silences, reproachful stares, and bitter anger. I was glad that our tradition of Friday night dinners gave me the opportunity to have Paolo and Giorgia over.
And were my eyes playing tricks on me...
...or was another member of my family glad that they came, too?
After dinner...
I waved Giorgia and Paolo off as they began their walk home. "Don't forget next week," I called after them with a smile and a wave.
It was a nice way to end a nice evening.
But never could I guess that soon my smile would falter as I came to suspect the unspeakable truth about one of my dinner guests.
That evening...
I was bundled into my pajamas and sitting on my bed when Dante came in. "Do you mind if I sleep up here? I haven't had the chance to fix that drafty window, so the living room is frigid."
"Suit yourself," I said. "You can take one of the sofas."
"A sofa?" he asked, clearly disappointed. I couldn't believe it!
"What?" I asked incredulously.
"You think you're going to climb into this bed after what you've done? After what you've as much as accused me of doing?" I gave a humorless laugh. "Take the couch or sleep in the rain for all I care."
He settled onto one of the benches by the door, and as I watched him I couldn't help but feel a savage pleasure at his seeming degradation.
But immediately there was a pang of guilt; in my heart of hearts I loved Dante, but we were at an impasse. He betrayed me, and thought I killed his lover and tried to kill him.
I could forgive a lot of things, but thinking that I could commit cold-blooded murder was not one of those things.
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