Page 101 of Alessia
35 - Harper
We continue to lie in silence for some time, enjoying each other’s presence and words are not necessary. My head continues to spin.
“Alessia?” I say tentatively.
“Yes?”
I come up and sit beside her in a cross-legged position. Alessia also comes up and leans on her elbows.
“What is it?”
“Uhm… I want to do something…” I start hesitantly. I feel terrified to say what I want to do but I know I have to cross this hurdle to bring closure to the past few months.
“I want to go to Anna’s parents. They need to know what she was like there…. in that house.”
Alessia smiles softly at me, “I suspected that’s what you needed. The jet has been fueled and ready for a week at LAX, ready to take us to New York.”
“Really?” I ask surprised.
“Yes. I know you, dear. We can be in the air in two hours.”
I throwmyself around Alessia’s neck and shower her with kisses, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, before I hop off the bed and run towards the shower, her laughter following me.
Twelve hours later I stand on the porch of a colonial style home in a suburb of New York. The red door with a gold knocker stares back at me. Nerves coursing through my body.
“You can do this Harper.” Alessia encourages me.
The faint scent of freshly mowed grass hangs in the air as I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself. Alessia’s steady presence at my side is the only thing keeping me from bolting down the porch steps. I nod at her, more to convince myself than her, and raise my hand to knock on the door.
Before I can, it swings open.
A woman in her late forties stands in the doorway, her face pale and weary. Her blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and there’s a hint of mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days.
“Who are you?” she huffs.
“Mrs. Carter?” I ask wearily.
“Yes, what’s that to you?” The annoyance is written all over her face, she clearly wants to be left alone. I contemplate leaving and just letting it be but Anna deserves to have someone tell the last part of her story. I swallow my nerves before I say on a shaky breath.
“I’m Harper, I knew your daughter, Anna.” I trail off.
Her handflies to her mouth in shock as new tears form in her eyes.
“I would like to talk to you and your husband if that’s possible. I want to tell you about Anna.” My voice is laced with empathy.
She steps aside and gestures for us to come in. The house is beautifully decorated with soft colors and warmth. Pictures of Anna and a young boy hang in the stairwell. Mrs. Carter leads us to the sitting area,
