They stared down at a quilt.
Her shoulders relaxed. The quilt was ivory colored, hand stitched, and quite beautiful, but still a boring reveal after such anticipation. It was obvious from her sisters’ relieved sighs they’d done the same thing. Expected something else.
Bailey smoothed her hand over the soft material. “Pretty. I would’ve saved my dibs for this, Pris. Better than the sweater.”
Pris grinned. “You and Dev can fight over it, or we can donate it. I certainly don’t need another quilt in my life.”
Dev lost interest and turned back to the second bureau. “Not sure why Mom needed a trunk to store bedding. This place has a huge linen closet that’s only half full.”
“Maybe she liked the beauty of it,” Bailey murmured. “I’m always attracted to those pretty hatboxes, but I’ve never owned a hat in my life. It’s kind of romantic.”
Dev gave a snort. “Mom was the least romantic person I’ve ever known.”
“Why would you say that?” Bailey asked. “She probably had dreams and fantasies like everyone else.”
“I agree with Dev on this one,” Pris said, her voice a bit brisk. “Mom was practical. She preferred stability and smart decisions over passion. She wasn’t the type to date a bad boy or ditch a logical plan over an impulse.”
“Well, I disagree,” Bailey said.
“What’s new?” Dev muttered. She practically felt Bailey’s glare, so she concentrated on her task. A rustling rose in the air, along with her sister’s voice.
“Um, guys. I found something.”
Dev turned, expecting to see more quilts, but Bailey was holding a fat manila envelope in her hands. “It’s probably copies of important financials or old pictures,” Dev said, peering over her sister’s shoulder.
Bailey opened the clasp and pulled out a stack of letters tied with a purple ribbon. Dev watched as her sister tugged on the ribbon and flipped slowly through the papers. No envelopes. Just one letter after another with dates at the top and the same salutation repeated.
Livia, amore mio.
“What is it?” Pris asked, turning from the closet.
“Letters. A lot of them,” Bailey said.
Dev picked up the envelope and slid her hand inside. “Nothing else in here. Are they to us?”
Bailey shook her head. “They’re from someone named R. And they look like love letters.”
The sudden silence seemed to crackle with electricity. They shared a look. Pris shook her head. “Impossible. She wasn’t dating anyone after Dad. And she got married at twenty-three, so there wasn’t tons of time to have love affairs.”
“Maybe they were from a college boyfriend?” Dev suggested. “Maybe she forgot they were in there.”
Bailey’s fingers tightened around the papers as she scanned through some of them. “These seem kind of intense.”
Pris reached inside the trunk. “I found something else. It looks like a certificate.”
Dev waited while her sister examined the document. When she looked up, shock carved out the lines of her face. “It’s a deed for a house. That Mom owns. In Italy.”
Bailey gasped. “Wait—Mom has a house in Italy? That’s crazy! She would’ve told us.”
Head swimming, Dev tried to focus. “Can I see that?” Pris handed it over. “Oh my God, Pris is right. Mom owns a place in Positano, Italy.”
“Is that on the Amalfi Coast?” Bailey asked, frowning. “We don’t even know anyone from Italy. Has she ever mentioned it to one of you?”
They shook their heads. “There has to be some explanation,” Pris said. “I’ll get in touch with her lawyer and see if he knew about it.”
“And Dad, of course,” Bailey added. “Maybe it was Dad’s and he gave it to her in the divorce?”
“Doubt it. Don’t you think we would’ve taken a trip there?” Dev asked.
“I don’t know what to think,” Bailey said in a strangled voice. “It’s so weird.”
“Maybe she left us a letter?” Pris suggested.
Bailey split up the papers. “Good idea, let’s look. I only glanced through them.”
They each shuffled through their pile, but Dev found nothing addressed to them.
Pris sighed. “I don’t see any letter to us. They’re all from this R guy,” Pris said. “But we need to go through the rest of her things. Maybe the explanation for the house is somewhere else and we missed it. Did Mom keep a diary? Journal? Special folder of personal items?”
“We found those already, remember? We needed all that stuff for the funeral and death certificate,” Dev said.
Bailey waved her hand in the air. Her voice sounded highly pitched. “Guys, you need to hear this.”
She began to read.
Livia, amore mio,
Today, I climbed onto the roof and watched the sunset and thought of you. The way you smell like lilacs, and the way your blue eyes light up when you smile and the way you say my name in a whisper after I kiss you. I count the days until summer and wonder if you will think of me the same. If another semester at college will cause you to realize you can have so much more than this simple life I can offer here. Yes, it would tear me apart to lose you, but can I be enough? This woman who sets my heart on fire and brings the world to its feet with just a smile? And even worse—I am too selfish to warn you away, dolcezza. If you will have me, I will wait for you. I will make sure you find the type of happiness you deserve by the way I love you, and I will force open the cities like an oyster to give you the things you need. I’m not surprised you are at the top of your class, especially in art history. There are many museums and art curators who will be lucky to have you. Soon, you will arrive with Aunt Silvia and my life will truly begin again. Until then, the fish and the tourists keep me company during the day. And you keep me company in my dreams.
Il mio cuore sarà tuo per sempre,
R
Bailey finished reading and lifted her head.
Dev had never heard such words from a lover—the way the raw emotions seemed to wrap around her and squeeze. Who was this woman who’d inspired such heartfelt vows? Certainly not the mother she’d grown up with. And why hadn’t she ever spoken of him—even as an old boyfriend?
Her thoughts knotted into a tangle. Pris looked like she’d been sucker punched, her face dangerously pale. Bailey had that dreamy expression, like she’d been carried far off somewhere outside reality. Probably romanticizing the whole thing, when there had to be a rational explanation. Dev just needed to find it.