Splendor(156)
“Darling.” He pulled her close against him, holding her as she wept, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words.
When she felt in control again, she lifted her head from his chest and gave him a sweet, tender kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I can’t even tell you what this means to me. Or how much I love you for finding these. It’s just – too much for me to express right now.”
He nodded in understanding. “I get it. And I’m so pleased you like your gift. Look, there’s even a photograph of your mother on the back cover of this book.”
Ian took out one of the other books from the box, this one a hardcover with a glossy jacket that was in excellent condition. The other two books were paperbacks and a bit on the well -used side. Tessa gasped as he flipped open the back cover, and she ran her fingers over the smiling image of her mother in stunned disbelief.
“It’s really her,” she murmured, starting at the image of the happy, glowing young woman who looked so much like her own self. “And this – this is how I prefer to remember her, Ian. Young and healthy and full of life. Not – not the sad, sick woman she became as I got older. This is my real mother right here.”
Ian pressed a kiss to her temple. “She was beautiful, Tessa. You could be her twin, the resemblance is remarkable. And I was thinking – there’s a photography studio I know of in San Francisco that specializes in restoring old photos. I’m willing to bet if we brought them this book jacket that they would be able to find a way to reproduce the image into a proper photograph. Obviously the quality wouldn’t be the best, but - ”
“I don’t care.” She flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “I’ll take anything, the quality doesn’t matter. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She pressed fervent kisses all along his cheeks, jaw, neck.
“You’re more than welcome, my love,” he whispered. “Now, come. It’s your twenty-fifth birthday and no more tears, hmm? Let’s vow to make this the happiest birthday of your life so far, all right?”
And it was most definitely the most wonderful birthday that Tessa could ever remember having. Not that she had very many happy memories of past birthdays. The last two years prior to this one had been spent alone, since Peter had been on a trip somewhere far away on both occasions. And she couldn’t honestly remember ever having something as traditional as a birthday party as a child – that certainly hadn’t been her mother’s style.
But spending this day – this weekend – with Ian wiped out any memories of less happy times. They spent a quiet, blissful day together – taking a long walk on the beach; driving into the small town just north of the house to get a cappuccino; browsing through the boutiques and art galleries in town, where he bought her a beautiful copper bowl filled with multi-colored pieces of sea glass. Back at the house, they soaked in the enormous hot tub out on the deck while sipping wine and watching the wild surf below.
And they talked – for hours, it seemed. Over a beautifully prepared dinner the caterer had left – including a fabulous white chocolate birthday cake – they shared stories of their respective childhoods, though most of Tessa’s memories weren’t always happy ones. She told Ian more about her relationship with Peter, how they’d been almost virtual strangers when they’d married so young – still children, really. They had been awkward and uncertain around each other but had gradually grown closer and become the best of friends. Tessa confessed to having felt lonely and sad and frightened when Peter had begun to travel, and how hard she’d had to stave off falling into a deep depression at times. And it had tugged at her heart to recall Peter’s almost nightly bouts of insomnia, the nightmares that had plagued him, and how it had been rare for him to actually sleep in the same bed with her.
They had moved back out to the deck by now, curled up on the wicker settee with a plush cashmere throw tucked around them, sipping a post-dinner snifter of brandy. Tessa’s head was on Ian’s lap as he played idly with one of her thick blonde curls.
“Is that why you love to cuddle in bed so much?” he asked her gently.
She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his heavily muscled thigh. “Probably. Though some of that goes back to when I was a little girl. Because we moved around so much I was always a little scared getting used to a new place, especially – well, in the shelters. There were usually some creepy people living there, and my mother wasn’t always in a sane enough state of mind to make me feel secure.”