He opens the box and stares in shock.
“What is it?” I adjust the baby in my arms before I look up.
“A christening gown. And it’s old.” He lifts it out of the tissue paper, and another note falls to the ground.
I recognize the tiny white lacy dress immediately and gasp.
“It’s mine. That’s from Abeulo. It’s been in my family for years.” He lays it on the counter gently and picks up the note.
“It’s addressed to you.” He brings it over to me, and I hesitate before taking it.
All the correspondence has been one-sided since I was sent here. He hasn’t reached out once, and now he’s sending family heirlooms? I drop my hand, not wanting to touch the familiar-looking cardstock.
My grandfather is a romantic, still believing in handwritten notes and letters. I have so many memories of watching him write at his desk with his fancy fountain pen and specially made paper that somehow always smelled of the plumeria he grew in his garden.
“I don’t want to read it.” I shake my head, making my final decision.
“Mind if I skim it. Just to make sure it’s nothing vital?” I sigh.
“That’s properly the smart thing to do. Ignoring them wouldn’t be a good idea, huh?” I lift the baby to my shoulder and start patting her back.
“No, we’re not ignoring anything anymore.” He rips open the actual wax seal and pulls out the letter.
“There’s a picture.” He hands it to me, and I know what it is before I touch it.
The familiar yellowing on the edges and the stamps on the back give it away.
“My parents and I at my christening,” I whisper as I turn the photo over and am greeted by the image.
“When was the last time you saw them?” We’ve never spoken about my parents.
I turn the photo around, and a tear falls down my cheek.
“This was the last time they held me. I’m not exactly sure what happened. Abeulo always said it was painful and useless to live in the past. All I know is that we all entered that church together, and I left with the nuns.” I smile through my tears as he slaps the note in his hand against the box.
“Who’s Sofia?” I open my mouth and then close it.
“Um, my mother. Why?” He hands the note to me, and I find my grandfather’s elegant script.
Willow Sofia Romano
“How did he know?” I whisper as I look around the cabin I once felt safe in.
“I’m not sure, but we’re not staying to find out. Go pack. I’m calling Lucas.” He steps outside and walks away from the house with his cellphone to his ear.
“Are you ready to meet the family, little one?” I coo at my daughter as I walk into the nursery to dress her and pack.
Italy, here we come.
Chapter Sixteen
Bruno
“Welcome to Las Vegas.” The captain drones on about the weather and local happenings as I stare out the window.
“She did so well.” The lady sitting across from us in first class smiles at Willow, who basically slept the entire flight.
“Thanks, I was worried,” Rosario confesses as people around us stand to get their belongings.
