her, and he was puzzled by his actions.
As for Jessica, she was wondering the same thing. And asking herself whether or not she had the guts to go to Paris to confront the past. She simply didn’t know.
CHAPTER NINE
Maria
HER LIFE HAD CHANGED. MIRACULOUSLY. OVERNIGHT. SHE could hardly believe it had happened.
For the last few days she felt as though she were walking on air. Her demeanor was more positive than it had been for a long time; she was excited and filled with anticipation, and in a way she had not been for years. In a certain sense, it was as if she had suddenly been reborn.
The change in her had started last Friday, when she had returned to her office after lunch. On her desk was a FedEx envelope from Paris. Momentarily baffled, unable to properly read the sender’s name and address, she had pulled the little tag on the back and taken out the white envelope inside.
The way her name was written in beautiful calligraphy told her at once that this was an invitation. She could not imagine what event it could be for, and when she had removed the card from the white envelope she had been thrilled as she quickly scanned it, reading every word.
Her heart had tightened and she had felt a rush of genuine happiness running through her … how wonderfulto be invited to this very special occasion for Anya; what an honor to be a guest at the festivities for her.
Anya Sedgwick was a unique person in Maria’s life, and also a favorite teacher, and she had done more for her than anyone else. Except for Fabrizio. And Riccardo, of course.
It was Anya who had taken her under her wing when she had started at the school, who had encouraged her creativity, led her into new areas of design, and opened up the worlds of art, music, and culture in general. She had been like a mother to her at times, as well as her champion, and a truly good friend.
When she had first begun to attend the Anya Sedgwick School of Decorative Arts, Design, and Couture, Maria had made a lot of other friends as well—besides the three who had eventually become her closest friends until the quarrel.
In her opinion, it had been about nothing of any great consequence. The parting of the ways should have never happened … they had been at loggerheads with one another at one moment in time, and there appeared to be no other alternative but to go their separate ways. She had been upset after this break in the friendships, and at a loss, floundering a little without the other girls in her life.
Surely they would attend Anya’s eighty-fifth birthday party? How could they bear to miss it?
She hoped they would be there; she couldn’t wait to see them again, whether they wanted to see her or not. She was exceedingly curious about them and their lives. Having not heard from any of them for the last seven years, she couldn’t help wondering if they were married, divorced, had children or not. And she was equally interested to know if they had pursued the careers they had chosen, if they had been successful.
Seven years later there could be no animosity left, could there?
Perhaps
. Maria shrugged. One never knew about people; they could be very strange, as she knew only too well, and to her bitter disappointment.
Maria Pia Francesca Teresa Franconi, called simply Maria by her family and friends, fully intended to go to Paris to celebrate with Anya. In fact, she didn’t think about it twice.
Her reaction to the invitation had been positive, and she had already mailed the reply card, saying she would attend.
The invitation to the party, and the prospect of the trip, were the reasons her depression had fled; she was so buoyed up and excited, she could hardly contain herself. To her, the invitation was somehow like the spending money she had received every week when she was a child. Her grandmother Franconi gave it to her each Thursday, but she wasn’t able to spend it until the weekend, when her mother took her into Milan. And so the money had burned
As for Jessica, she was wondering the same thing. And asking herself whether or not she had the guts to go to Paris to confront the past. She simply didn’t know.
CHAPTER NINE
Maria
HER LIFE HAD CHANGED. MIRACULOUSLY. OVERNIGHT. SHE could hardly believe it had happened.
For the last few days she felt as though she were walking on air. Her demeanor was more positive than it had been for a long time; she was excited and filled with anticipation, and in a way she had not been for years. In a certain sense, it was as if she had suddenly been reborn.
The change in her had started last Friday, when she had returned to her office after lunch. On her desk was a FedEx envelope from Paris. Momentarily baffled, unable to properly read the sender’s name and address, she had pulled the little tag on the back and taken out the white envelope inside.
The way her name was written in beautiful calligraphy told her at once that this was an invitation. She could not imagine what event it could be for, and when she had removed the card from the white envelope she had been thrilled as she quickly scanned it, reading every word.
Her heart had tightened and she had felt a rush of genuine happiness running through her … how wonderfulto be invited to this very special occasion for Anya; what an honor to be a guest at the festivities for her.
Anya Sedgwick was a unique person in Maria’s life, and also a favorite teacher, and she had done more for her than anyone else. Except for Fabrizio. And Riccardo, of course.
It was Anya who had taken her under her wing when she had started at the school, who had encouraged her creativity, led her into new areas of design, and opened up the worlds of art, music, and culture in general. She had been like a mother to her at times, as well as her champion, and a truly good friend.
When she had first begun to attend the Anya Sedgwick School of Decorative Arts, Design, and Couture, Maria had made a lot of other friends as well—besides the three who had eventually become her closest friends until the quarrel.
In her opinion, it had been about nothing of any great consequence. The parting of the ways should have never happened … they had been at loggerheads with one another at one moment in time, and there appeared to be no other alternative but to go their separate ways. She had been upset after this break in the friendships, and at a loss, floundering a little without the other girls in her life.
Surely they would attend Anya’s eighty-fifth birthday party? How could they bear to miss it?
She hoped they would be there; she couldn’t wait to see them again, whether they wanted to see her or not. She was exceedingly curious about them and their lives. Having not heard from any of them for the last seven years, she couldn’t help wondering if they were married, divorced, had children or not. And she was equally interested to know if they had pursued the careers they had chosen, if they had been successful.
Seven years later there could be no animosity left, could there?
Perhaps
. Maria shrugged. One never knew about people; they could be very strange, as she knew only too well, and to her bitter disappointment.
Maria Pia Francesca Teresa Franconi, called simply Maria by her family and friends, fully intended to go to Paris to celebrate with Anya. In fact, she didn’t think about it twice.
Her reaction to the invitation had been positive, and she had already mailed the reply card, saying she would attend.
The invitation to the party, and the prospect of the trip, were the reasons her depression had fled; she was so buoyed up and excited, she could hardly contain herself. To her, the invitation was somehow like the spending money she had received every week when she was a child. Her grandmother Franconi gave it to her each Thursday, but she wasn’t able to spend it until the weekend, when her mother took her into Milan. And so the money had burned
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