Mari checked the year on the book and saw that it was her own yearbook from her senior year. She’d been seventeen years old, filled with hope and head over heels in love with Marc. It’d been torture for her to be separated from him during the fall, winter and spring, although he would drive up to Dearborn occasionally. His visits had always been short, though, given her parents’ disapproval of their relationship.
She opened up the yearbook, smiling wistfully when she recognized youthful, long-forgotten faces.
It was cruel, the way time fell through your grasping fingers.
She paused when she saw a light pink envelope inserted between some pages. She opened up the envelope and realized it was her graduation card from her parents. Below the printed inscription, she saw both her parents’ handwriting.
From her mother: We will always be proud of our beautiful daughter. Always. Congratulations, Marianna!
She blinked a few unwanted tears out of her eyes so that she could see her father’s note.
Mari, Your entire future stretches ahead of you. My advice to you as you set about your journey is to never give up hope. Hope is putting faith to work when doubting would be easier. Know that you will always have our love, Dad.
For a full minute, she just stood there, staring at the message. It was as if she’d just looked up and seen Kassim Itani standing there…saw his thin face and small smile and the knowing twinkle in his dark eyes. The years had collapsed.
Her father had reached out and touched her across the vast barrier of time.
Still holding the card, she walked over to the window and stared out at the glittering high-rises, not really seeing them, but instead seeing her father’s face…
And Marc’s.
Hope is putting faith to work when doubting would be easier.
That’s what she’d done. She’d doubted when she should have hung on. She’d done the wise thing, the rational thing, but everyone knew hope wasn’t logical.
“Choose hope.”
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t speaking to the baby. She was whispering to herself.
“Your mother is here, Marc.”
He did a double take at his administrative assistant’s unexpected announcement.
“Where?”
Adrian pointed at the office assigned to him at the courthouse at 26th and California. He had a briefing to attend with some of his top attorneys who were prosecuting a police officer accused of murdering his wife. It was a high profile case and he needed to do a million things before the briefing. All of those things faded in his mind at the news his mother was in his office. Brigit rarely came to the city, let alone to the criminal courthouse.
“Thanks, Adrian,” Marc muttered before he plunged into his office. His mother stood from her chair and turned to him. Marc thought she looked healthy enough, but—”
“Is everything all right, Mom?”
“Everything’s fine.”
Marc gave her a quizzical glance as he deposited his heavy briefcase on his desk. “Why are you here, then?” he asked, bending to give her a kiss.
“I just wanted to speak to you.”
“About what?” Marc asked as he settled in his chair.
Brigit also sat. “I was worried. You seemed so distant when we spoke on the phone yesterday.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re missing Mari.”
He blinked, shocked his mother had just said a name that was typically verboten to her. It was all the more disorienting to hear Mari’s name because he himself hadn’t spoken it since she’d left Harbor Town six weeks ago. He said it in his mind frequently enough. Too often, in fact.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, once he’d recovered from the shock of his mother willfully bringing up the topic of Mari Itani.