‘Thank you so much, Giovanni. Thank you. I’ll never forget this place. We’ll always remember because of this beautiful charm.’ I took my new husband’s hand and we began our retreat from the store, my new charm getting settled into its new home on my wrist. ‘Arrivederci.’
Indeed, I would remember this place for the rest of my life. I looked again at my bracelet and smiled. That much was guaranteed.
13
It was Sunday morning and, as Danny was fast asleep, Holly had the peace and quiet of the morning in bed with her coffee and paper.
Thank goodness for delivery, she thought, as she cracked open theNew York Times. She scanned the front page – too depressing, just the picture was enough to make her turn the page. She immediately flipped through to the book reviews and scanned the fiction list to see if there was anything good. After that she turned her attention to the crossword.
Holly could do theNYTcrossword practically in her sleep. She smiled to herself. Today, the theme was old movies.
Let's see … she bit her lip as she read the clues.
1941 Frank Capra film: MEET JOHN (_ _)E
Too easy. She pencilled the letters D and O in to read ‘Doe’ and then, just as she was ready to move on to the next clue, she heard Danny start to rustle in his bed.
Holly got out from beneath her own warm covers. Having briefly freshened up in the bathroom, she moved to the small kitchenette and got out a pan and some pancake mix. She had pre-made it and stored it in a jar just for this purpose. As the pan began to sizzle, she heard Danny call out, ‘What’s for breakfast?’
‘Pancakes,’ Holly grinned, predicting the response
‘Yes!’ Danny's feet hit the floor.
They ate in the little breakfast nook off the kitchen and Holly studied Danny, who was looking more and more like his father every day.
He had the same straight nose and black hair, so different from her own colouring, and a nose with a bump on the end. His cheekbones were high and his hair curled around his small ears as if it had been styled that way. He was practically tanned all through the dead of winter, a tribute to his father’s Mediterranean roots. Holly burned or got red if she was out in the sun for more than ten minutes, winter or summer. Danny seemed to be made for the sun: he never burned, nor complained of the heat.
Having practically inhaled his pancakes, Danny stood up and put his dish in the sink without being told.
Then, for the first time, he looked out the window.
‘Snow again, yay!’ he exclaimed, excitedly hopping from one foot to the other.
She smiled indulgently at him. ‘You mean you only just noticed?’
‘Let’s go out, can we Mom, please?’ He pushed his face against the cold glass of the window. ‘Maybe there won't be any school tomorrow?’
‘Not with that light dusting.’ Holly gulped down the rest of her coffee and got dressed – no use torturing him.
Besides, she wanted to try and see if she could make it over to Tiffany’s today. It was near enough to Columbus Circle, so they could take a quick walk through the park while they were there. When she got out of the bathroom he was waiting by the door, dressed and ready to go. He took her coat off the hook, and pointed to her boots on the floor. ‘Here you go.’
‘Are you a golden retriever now?' she joked, shaking her head indulgently as she slipped on her coat and got into her warmest walking boots.
When they got out onto the street it was wonderfully calm and quiet – a world away from the usual weekday hustle and bustle. She looked at the snow softy falling on cars and lying undisturbed on the ground. Soon the paths would be a slushy mess and most of the young people in the neighbourhood would have missed it. But the snow definitely wasn’t wasted on Danny.
He was trying to catch flakes on his tongue as they walked. Holly threw her arm around him. How could she not be the happiest woman in the world? Danny's shoulder felt bony and muscular at the same time, the shoulder of a boy on the verge of becoming a teen. Not long now, she thought sadly, until he tried to pull away from me. Would it be harder or easier than it was for her and her mother?
Holly recalled the day her mother, during one of their infamous arguments, had blurted out the news that had shattered her heart. She’d just turned sixteen. Overcome by teenage hormones, Holly had been complaining resentfully that her mother was continuously on her case.
‘It’s like you wish I’d never been born!’
‘More like I wish I’d picked out a more grateful child at the adoption agency!’ Eileen shot back, before putting her hands to her mouth, horrified.
The words had washed over Holly like a tsunami of betrayal, fear and anger. Adopted? Impossible!
Everyone was always commenting that she was petite like her mother, and looked like her dad. Was it all lies? Everything? Maybe she wasn't smart and pretty either, or creative, or interesting or fun …
Her world had ended on that day. It was like the Holly she knew had died, or was erased, non-existent …
