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Harper raised an eyebrow. “More romance scale of devotion?”
He winked at his niece. “You’ve said the right amount.”
“She could say a little more,” his wife prodded.
“Nope,” he replied as they entered the sprawling living room overlooking the patio.
But something was off.
The grand piano in the corner of the room had been moved to the center of the space.
“The villa helper people put it here for me,” Aria explained as he set her down.
The instrument sat adjacent to the French doors leading outside. With the starry sky reflecting off the piano’s shiny black surface, the instrument took on an ethereal quality.
“I see you found your aunt and uncle,” Tomás remarked, smiling through his bushy beard as he and Bess joined them next to the glimmering Steinway.
“She sure did,” Harper answered. “Is this what I think it is? Are you ready?”
Aria exhaled a slow breath and nodded. “I’m ready to do my song.” She tapped the piano. “I wanted to play the piano here because it looks like I’m playing a concert and I wanted to make this night super special since it’s the last night before you and Uncle Landy go back to Colorado, and me, Lolo, and Lala go to their university, and I get to help them with their sculptures.”
Bess smoothed a lock of the little girl’s hair. “We can’t wait to hear your song.”
Aria chewed her lip.
“Are you nervous?” Harper asked, rubbing the girl’s back.
The child reached into her pocket and removed the tiny piano eraser Harper had given her. “When I hold my eraser, it makes me feel better,” Aria explained, touching the miniature item reverently before returning it to her pocket. “I’m a little scared, but that’s what my song is about.”
Aria hadn’t shared much about the song. He and Harper had heard her singing in her closet, and he’d found her in her room scribbling in her music notebook, surrounded by a sea of highlighters. He figured the song might follow in Harper’s silly-friends-songs footsteps, but it appeared the child had gone in another direction.
“We can’t wait to hear it,” Tomás chimed.
“I’m gonna play the piano and sing at the same time like Harper and my mom.” Aria beamed, which was a departure from her usually sour demeanor when she mentioned her parents.
The hot-tempered, quick-to-anger kid had bloomed into a little girl exploring her love of music.
How he wished Trey and Leighton could be here.
He scanned the room, searching for ghosts. It seemed like only yesterday the trio sat in this very room, lounging on the couches, taking in the beauty of Italy, and riffing the hours away.
“Before you start, dear, Tomás and I would like to make a toast,” Bess said warmly as a maid entered the room with a tray of champagne and a glass of apple juice. Once everyone had a drink in hand, Bess raised hers. “To family and to Landon. Thank you for graciously offering up your villa.”
“You know it’s yours anytime you want,” he answered, embracing his foster mother.
“Returning to Italy to teach and sculpt has been a longtime dream of ours. And we’re grateful to be with the people we hold in our hearts,” she continued.
“We also wanted to take a moment to remember the two people who aren’t with us tonight,” Tomás added.
“My mom and dad?” Aria supplied.
Tomás nodded. “We miss them and think of them every day.”
“To Leighton and Trey,” Bess said, and they clinked glasses.
“We see so much of them inside you, Aria,” Tomás remarked after taking a sip.
The kid gulped her juice. “You do?”
