Found Page 12

  Amara and Sarah started cooking around three that afternoon for my birthday dinner. Whatever they were making smelled divine. Both of the women threatened anyone who entered the kitchen. So my mom and I went outside to set up the patio where we would be eating.

  The night was chilly but lit torches and a fire pit provided enough heat to make it comfortable. The intimacy of the small fenced backyard was perfect. It was enough that I had family but I was pleasantly surprised when gifts were brought out.

  “Presents,” I said, clapping my hands.

  “Mine first, since it was my fabulous idea to have you a party.” Amara handed me the first present, a small, black, flip-top box.

  On the black velvet interior was a charm bracelet. Large silver rings, had seven silver leaves of identical size and shape. Each leaf at its base had a different jewel. The leaves matched those on the front of my locket and the gems matched those on the back.

  “When did you have this made?” I asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

  “I received the finished piece back about a month ago. Do you know how hard it was to get a picture of your locket when you never take it off?”

  “Then how did you?” Mom asked looking at the bracelet.

  “Wila sleeps like the dead,” she said in good fun.

  Amara would the light that kept all the dark at bay when it came to the endless and fruitless search for our missing parents and siblings. She never let anyone be in her presence without a smile. He was hard to imagine not finding them when Amara’s faith was so unwavering. There was never any doubt when she assured me that we would find everyone and one day our family would be whole again.

  “Thank you Amara it’s beautiful.”

  “Ok mine next,” Sarah spoke up.

  Sarah was old enough to be Mom’s mom but strangely enough she felt like a sister, instead of a grandparent. Even Mom treated her more like a daughter. She’d been adopted into our little family almost from the start. You could find her in our house more often than hers.

  She may old but she was strong and after a year of living with her we all knew not to try to help her with the large wrapped present she sat on the table in front of me. She straightened and put her hands on her hips with a smile that brightened the darkening day.

  “This is so exciting,” I said, ripping the wrapping paper off the second gift. It was a framed painting of me.

  “No fair Sarah your gift is so much better than mine,” Amara said playfully.

  “Sarah it’s beautiful, did you paint it,” Lucius asked. He moved close behind me and was looking over my shoulder. His closeness did wondrous and joyous things to my heart.

  I had not sat for the painting, nor did I recognize the clothes, or the location. I stood next to a great tree, in a cream gown with gold trim. On my head was a crown of flowers. One hand was on a branch and the other over my heart. My hair was down, and true to life, unruly and wild.

  “Sarah, I don’t know what to say, It’s so…”

  “Perfect,” Lucius finished for me.

  “Thank you Sarah. Really it’s wonderful,” I said, standing up to hug her.

  “Well I guess it’s my turn,”

  Mom put the last present on the table. It was a small box, larger than the box she’d given me last year but the wrapping was still one of a kind. The first layer of paper was cream colored. The second was a black die-cut scroll designed. To top it all off, the lid had a red tissue paper peony looking flower with glittered edges. Inside the box was a single hair comb. The wood comb was only about three inches wide. The teeth were very long. The top of the comb held a single burnt orange-red gemstone.

  “It was my mother’s,”

  “Mom, I…”

  “You can and you will,” She said cutting my refusal off. “My mother gave it to me the night we left. I want you to have it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d gotten three beautiful gifts all better than the car I’d wished for last year. I was surrounded by people that loved me and I loved in return. Our small family of two had grown and I couldn’t have been happier.

  “I have something,” Lucius said, “But it’s not wrapped.”

  Maybe I could be happier. I turned and felt more than saw the others do the same. My heart was a drumbeat in my chest. He pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out to me. In his palm was a ring. The thin band had a continuous ornate pattern. The gold was dull from age. Lucius took my right hand, placing the ring on the middle finger. It fit perfectly. I had no words.

  Chapter 8: The Oath