Fiona hadn’t seen that in well over a year either.
She missed that too.
“Do I look good?” Jason asked.
Bella smiled.
Then, all of a sudden looking strangely indecisive, she stilled.
Finally, making her decision, she walked to Jason and put her hand on top of his head. Leaning in, her hand slid down to his cheek.
Her face got close. “With your father’s eyes and your mother’s hair, it’s impossible for you not to look good.”
Jason stared at her, probably because her voice shook with emotion.
Bella’s fingers slid through his hair as she watched her hand, the look on her beautiful face a mixture nostalgic and heartbroken.
Then she caught his eyes with hers and whispered, “You know, she’s with you every minute. Here,” she tugged his hair gently. “Here,” she let his hair go and tapped his head with her finger. “And here,” she put her hand over his heart. “I learned that a long time ago,” Bella whispered. “My Mom left me but she left a lot with me and all of it I carry safe, every moment, right here,” she pressed her hand on his chest for emphasis and Jason closed his eyes.
Ghostly tears slid down Fiona’s cheeks and she decided she didn’t hate Bella anymore.
Fiona watched as Bella leaned in and kissed the top of his head and then she went back to tidying the kitchen as if that touching moment hadn’t happened.
Eyes never leaving Bella, Jason made a noise in the back of his throat then gulped in an effort to control his emotion.
Bella, astutely, ignored it.
He slid off his stool, went to get Fiona’s guitar and the book Bella gave him to teach himself how to play it and he brought them downstairs
Seeing him with her guitar and Bella’s book, Fiona finally got it.
And she looked to the woman who was teaching her daughter how to dangle the new cat toy she’d bought Blackie when she was with Sally in the village and Fiona fell in love.
This world was meant to have Jason and Sally in it.
So, as ugly as it was, Bella and Prentice could not be.
And Fiona and Prentice were meant to be.
But, as ugly as it was, Fiona was not meant to inhabit that world for very long.
So, when she was gone, someone had to take care of her family.
And there was no better person to do it than the beautiful woman gamely ignoring her son plucking discordantly at guitar strings while she laughed and played with Sally and her kitten.
Now, Fiona realized, was the time Bella and Prentice were meant to be.
Fiona hovered, shaken by this new knowledge, as Bella put Sally to bed and came back down to Jason.
Then she surprised Fiona further as she gently took the guitar away from him. Expertly tuning it (she had a good ear), she explained what she was doing as Jason looked on with a rapt expression.
Then she played.
Fiona was stunned. Bella hadn’t played twenty years ago. She wasn’t talented but she knew what she was doing and it sounded lovely.
When she stopped, Bella surprised Fiona even further when she explained to Jason, “I was so impressed with your Mum’s playing, when I went home I took lessons.” Her face and tone grew wistful when she said, “I haven’t played in years. I forgot how much I like doing it.” Then she gained control and grinned at Jason. “But it makes your fingers hurt.”
Jason grinned back.
Bella handed Jason Fiona’s guitar and finished, her face soft, “That’s what your Mum gave to me, my love of the guitar. And a lot of happy memories filled with laughter. Those things are what I carry in my heart, gifts from Fiona.”
Jason’s grin died and he gulped again.
Fiona gulped too but she didn’t succeed in holding back her tears like her son did.
Quickly, Bella moved past the moment and with great patience, she gave Jason a few pointers. After awhile, his discordant plucking became something else altogether. Finally, she sent him off to bed with the guitar.
Then she went to her rooms. She opened the nightstand and pulled out a new journal. Opening it to the first page and picking up her expensive pen, she wrote about Fiona’s children while Fiona hovered over her and her book, unashamedly reading while Bella wrote.
And Fiona knew those words were some of very few good ones in any of those books.
It was then Fiona decided Sally and Jason were meant to exist in part to heal Bella.
And, as crazy as it sounded, Fiona was proud to have had a hand in that.
When Bella finished, she left her rooms to shut down the house.
All except the light outside, the light in the vestibule and a lamp in the great room.
Then she paced while Fiona trailed behind her. The longer she paced; the more cross she became.
And the more hilarious Fiona found it.
Fiona felt Prentice’s presence first.
She dashed in front of Bella so she could watch her face when she realized he was home.
Bella heard the 4x4; she stopped pacing and glared at the door.
Fiona couldn’t wait to see what happened next.
The door opened.
Bella tensed.
Fiona popped back into her tent by the ever-blossoming apple tree.
“Bloody hell!” she shouted at its silk walls.
Isabella
Isabella didn’t think she’d ever been that angry.
He’d taken her suitcases. And her passport.
It had to be him. Who else could it be? They hadn’t disappeared into thin air!
And why? Why had he taken them?
It was mad. Utterly insane.
She had to go, for his own good, even for the children’s!
Especially after last night.
No, she couldn’t think about last night. She just couldn’t let last night happen again.
Ever.
She just had to get… out… of… there!
Not for herself, but for him.
Her father, who was a jerk, who both she and Prentice knew would always be doing jerky things that would drive Prentice up the wall.
And Jason and Sally would witness it. Heck, they already had! They could even be caught up in it (her father didn’t hesitate with his venom, no matter what your age, that Isabella knew all too well). And this was something which didn’t bear thinking about.
And the photographers, who were annoying, who both she and Prentice knew would always be hounding her and now him and the children. And Prentice would hate that then begin to hate her for bringing that in their lives.
And she was…
She was…
Weak.
Not like Fiona, who was good and talented and funny and loving and strong and confident enough to use bold colors while decorating her house.
Isabella was weak.
And, whatever was in his mind now (and something was definitely in his mind, Isabella just didn’t understand it), Prentice would begin to hate that too.
She had to get out of there. For his own good.
Didn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he see? Why was he keeping her there? Why was he doing this? Why wouldn’t he just let her go?
It was exceedingly exasperating.
She heard the SUV and her eyes turned to the door.
She was going to let him have it the moment he walked in.
She’d practiced her whole speech. Heaven knew, she had enough time waiting for him. And her speech was perfect.
The door opened, Prentice entered and every practiced word flew from her mind.
He walked into his home casually, because he did it every day (so of course it would be casually).
But there was something about watching him coming home after work that hit Isabella in a strange way. It wasn’t unpleasant, not in the slightest.