The Christmas Bells of Cavazzale by Marian Merritt

Author:Marian Merritt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2015-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

Dodici

Charly typed the Italian words into the online translator. The words materialized in English. This wasn’t a love letter.

Conchitta,

I have always considered you my closest friend. For you to betray me this way hurts more than I can say.

I am no longer your friend. Do not come to my house. I never want to see you again.

Bianca

Wow, what could Nonna have done?

Charly darted to the bedroom. Time to find Nonna’s diary. The key slipped into the lock of the hall closet and opened the door to shelves filled with linens, books, a music box, a jewelry box, and a couple of journals. Charly grabbed the journals and opened the red one which was written in Italian. Of course. She’d have to translate every page. The date, however, was recognizable—1951. While a bit neater and more concise, the handwriting was unmistakably Nonna’s. This must be the diary Nonna mentioned in her letter. She was twenty years old when she wrote this first journal entry.

Charly brought both journals to the table and began typing the handwritten words into the translator. At this rate she would be here all night. She glanced out the window.

André romped in the open square outside the asilo with his godchild and another little girl, one with long, curly, blonde locks. While her coloring was different, there was no mistaking them as sisters. The large round eyes, pudgy nose, and full lips were almost identical.

The dark-haired girl called him her parah or something like that—whatever the Cajun French term for godfather was? Would the other child be as possessive of her uncle?

André lifted both girls, one in each arm, and walked across the square toward downtown.

Women turned and smiled as he walked by.

She turned back to her computer. She would not get caught up in wondering about André Lagneaux. There were better things to do in Italy. His long silky locks, dark-chocolate eyes, chiseled face, and the sharply defined muscles of his forearms did nothing for her. Nothing.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard typing in the words from Nonna’s diary, but her mind raced back to the square and the pure joy on André’s face as he played with his nieces.

~*~

André headed back to Edmond’s house carrying both Marielle and Isabella.

“Uncle André, can we have pizza again tonight?” Marielle’s bright blue eyes sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

“Yeah, parrain, pizza again. Please.” Isabella patted his cheek.

“Let’s wait until we get home to decide. Your mama probably has something nice planned.” This would be the hard part about being a parent. He’d say yes to those sweet smiles and beautiful eyes regardless of whether they’d had pizza last night, and the night before. Yep, if he had a daughter of his own, he’d be clay in her hands.

As he turned the corner, the church bells began their afternoon torture. Any other time he would love the melodious Christmas tune, but those bells, the unforgiving couch, and the stupid jetlag he couldn’t shake played a large part in his lack of sleep.

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