The Inheritance: Chapter 5 - Part II (Updated 11/14)
CuriousSimmer:
The Inheritance
Chapter 2 - Part V
December 1961
As difficult as it was for me to recognize, outside the drama of my home life the lives of all the other people in the world went on. Indeed, while I was struggling with my daughter's willfulness, the lives of my friends and neighbors was changing.
Adela, when not gazing hungrily at the handsome chocolatier across the street, was meeting a new neighbor...
The woman arrived in the shop covertly. Adela didn't hear her come in, didn't hear the bell on the door announce her entry. She simply came in to find her browsing the desserts.
"Good morning," she said politely to the woman. "Can I cut you a piece?" she asked, gesturing towards the cake that the woman had been eyeing.
"No," said the woman in a lilting Italian. "I would prefer something for breakfast."
"Some croissants?"
"That would be fine," said the Italian woman.
As Adela was ringing her up, she made smalltalk with the stranger. "I'm Adela, by the way," she said.
"I am Capricia Volante," said the woman with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Are you new to town?" Adela asked as she wrapped up the croissants.
"Visiting," said Capricia with another smile. "For now." It occurred to Adela as she watched Capricia Volante leave that this time, the smile reached her eyes. And this time, she had a somewhat sinister glint in her eyes.
Meanwhile...
Lady Thornycroft was not doing well. In her advanced age, she was struggling with memory and energy. Grant spent a lot of time with her, but the doctors said it was a good idea to be social, so I spent a few mornings a week with them.
"...and he was kissing her!" I said, unable to recognize that this was becoming a broken record with me.
"Oh, I remember when I was that age," said Lady Thornycroft, a cloudy look coming over her face. "Grant, your father and I would...well, I'm sure I shouldn't say, but he was quite the romantic, back then."
"So who was this boy?" asked Grant idly, finally setting down his newspaper.
"Donovan O'Reilly. His parents are Judith and David."
"Wait a moment. O'Reilly?" interjected Lady Thornycroft. "I know that name. Grant, darling, do we know them?"
"No, mother."
Lady Thornycroft closed her eyes, trying to remember. Suddenly she sat upright. "Oh dear. David and Donovan O'Reilly. They're...oh, dear, dear, dear. If I'm not mistaken, they were involved in something bad back home. Grant?"
"Mother, I don't think you--I don't remember anything of the sort." He looked at me apologetically. "Nevermind that. Sometimes she thinks she remembers things, but..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
"I'm not imagining things," said Lady Thornycroft stubbornly. "I... I really do... but I can't quite remember what..." She gave up, shaking her head stubbornly.
That afternoon...
"Gentlemen, thank you for coming," said Giovanni Giorelli as Father Bianchi and Marco walked into Eva's sickroom. She had kicked her blankets off because they were too warm.
"Of course," said the Priest. "I hope you don't mind that I brought my...apprentice, you might say. Marco Moretti."
"Sure," said Giovanni, avoiding Marco's gaze.
As Father Bianchi and Marco prayed over Eva, Eva's eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at the men and, realizing they were praying, and folded her arms over her chest to join the prayer.
"Thank you for coming," Eva said when the prayers were over. "I feel comforted by your presence, Father. And who's this? Come closer?"
Marco glanced at Father Bianchi, who nodded his encouragement. He stepped to the side of the bed.
And as Marco stepped forward to introduce himself, Eva Giorelli was able to see him more clearly. It occurred to her that, if this handsome young man was part of the faithful hierarchy, she was about to become far more devout.
Glamily:
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CuriousSimmer:
The Inheritance
Chapter 2 - Part VI
Christmas Eve 1961
I was determined to get to the bottom of this. If Josephine wouldn't give up Donovan because I asked her to, she would have to if it was true that he was bad news. And so I went to the local library and checked out a collection of newspapers for earlier in the year.
The librarian had agreed to search the newspapers for any keywords I might like, and I had the results in front of me: a thin sheaf of British and Irish broadsheets that I couldn't dare to open. What if this was all a mistake, and I was violating the O'Reillys' privacies for nothing? I hesitated, then stood from my chair.
I dialed Judith. "Judith, it's Elizabeth Moretti. You'll be coming to next week's social club, won't you?" I asked casually.
"Why yes, I thought I would," she replied.
"Could you come early?" I asked. "I could use some help and, uh, Adela won't be able to come early."
"I'd be happy to," she said.
"Thank you. Happy Christmas, Judith."
"Merry Christmas."
I hung up and looked at the sheaf on the desk. I would need to read it, to know what questions to ask. But I needn't spoil Christmas Eve by so doing. It would keep until the New Year.
Meanwhile...
While I was toying with the problem of whether to open the newspapers, my son and my husband were playing a game of a different variety.
"...party officials are looking to replace the Senator, who doctors say died of a heart attack, but have yet been unable to find a candidate. In other news..." the newscaster said as Marco came into the living room.
"Dad, could we talk for a minute?"
"Sure," said Dante. He turned off the television set and went over to the chess set. "Sit. We haven't played for weeks."
"I just got off the phone with Signor Giorelli, who was calling on behalf of his niece. They invited me to Christmas lunch with Father Bianchi," said Marco as he began his opening gambit.
"And what did you say?" asked Dante evenly.
Marco smiled weakly. "I said that we had other plans. But he just said that they'd like to see me at some time."
"Marco, my son," Dante began. "I know that it's unreasonable, but you must never, ever get involved with the Giorellis. I've been trying to get your mother to work through this, but she hates them. What he did, all those years ago...well, your mother hasn't been able to forgive him or his wife."
"It's only lunch," Marco muttered.
"I realize," said Dante, keeping his voice low. "But your mother is having enough trouble with your sister. I know it's unfair and un-Christian, but I really don't want to try your mother's patience anymore than your sister already has. Do you?"
"No, sir," said Marco. "You're right."
Later that night...
That Christmas Eve was probably the happiest in my entire life. The beautiful tree, in the foyer of my family's home, and all the family together. It was made all the sweeter by the fact that, even though our family was having some unity issues...
...we could all smile and enjoy each other's company.
At All Saints Cathedral...
It was fitting that the Christmas Mass that year was on the topic of love. Because as I looked around the cathedral, I could see nothing but love.
There was the grateful love of a brother for his little sister's warm forgiveness, and her grateful love that they would no longer be parted by the shame of her appearance...
...and the love of a mother for her son, despite a troubled past, returned with the love of a son for his mother's kind protection...
...the love of my family for all its members...
...and the phony, forced love between two people who despised each other, for the sake of appearance...
...love whose seeds had been planted but had not yet flowered...
...and love for a shepherd for his flock. Yes; it was fitting that the sermon would be on love. Love conquered, and calmed, and warmed the lives of all it touched. But most importantly...
...love sowed the seeds of hope for redemption and forgiveness.
Glamily:
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