Chapter 80

By popular demand and a whole lotta bribery, I wrote fast.  Just remember...  you ASKED for this!

____________________________________________________________________

Okay, maybe it wasn’t EXACTLY her face staring back at her, but it was close enough to warrant a double-take.  The woman in the photo was probably twenty years old, and if Allegra had put a photo of herself from that age next to it?  Well, there was no mistaking the resemblance.

A shiver crept up her spine as the other prominent feature of the picture gelled in her consciousness.  The eerie doppelganger image stared back at her, serenely smiling from under a nun’s habit.  If Allegra had taken her solemn vows right away, she could have practically a duplicate copy of this photo in her own mementos.

Now, what was her mother doing with it?

Placing the photo atop of the drawer’s contents, she began taking closer note of what these files held.  She silently thanked her father again for his organizational obsession as she read the neatly printed labels on the folders.  Everything seemed to be related to her in some way - health insurance, medical records, school records.  Nothing out of the ordinary that would explain the photograph. 

Then her fingers froze, suspended in mid-air and hovering over the next neatly organized file in the cabinet.    Her lungs burned as she held her breath longer than nature had intended.  Air hissing through her parted lips, she rubbed her thumb over a single word on the label, as though it would vanish upon contact.  Adoption.

Not just adoption, either.  The tag on the file eliminated all possibility that these were puppy ownership papers from the pound.  No, it plainly stated ‘Frannie – Adoption’.

 But which Frannie?  Surely not her?   It was a ludicrous notion, and one that was impossible to reconcile in her mind.  She was a Bongiovi through and through, having been proven time and time again.

Allegra jerked the file jacket from its designated spot and strode to the desk, slapping it unceremoniously on the bare surface.  She was damn sure going to find out who this Frannie woman was.  Dragging the chair up behind her, she perched herself on the edge of the seat.   

With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and turned back the cover of the file to reveal the sheaf of documents before her.  A yellowed certificate topped the stack, and she gingerly picked it up by the edges, so as not to damage the aging document. 

“In the matter of the petition of Michael Anthony Castanelli and Therese Bongiovi Castanelli, his wife to adopt Allegra Francis Castanelli, judgment and decree, March 31, 1971.”

The letters swam together as her eyes lost focus, and she couldn’t immediately interpret any other information from the certificate.   It rejoined its counterparts in the folder after sliding unnoticed from her fingertips.

I’m adopted?  How is that even possible?  I look JUST like my cousins.  SOMEBODY would have told me!  Even Jon can’t keep something this big a secret. 

As any naturally curious mind would progress, her next thought was of her parents.  The accompanying emptiness in her heart was unexpected and unwarranted.  Her parents were her parents, and there was no room for emptiness.  They’d done more than an admirable job of raising her.  Even during the recent rift between them, she’d never doubted the depth of their love.

If Mama and Daddy aren’t my biological parents, then who is? 

Taking control of her errant thoughts and refocusing her eyes, Allegra thoroughly scoured the certificate once again, but it didn’t reveal any additional clues.    Unfortunately, there was no additional information.  The court had declared this her legal name, regardless of what it had been on her birth certificate.

Of course!  The birth certificate. 

She stretched to wrap her fingers around the file lying on the open drawer, releasing a little grunt of exertion.  In the few instances she’d had to produce her birth certificate, there’d never been a reason to inspect it closely, but she truly believed she would have noticed an unfamiliar name printed on it.  Regardless of whether it was hers OR her parents, it would’ve surely stuck out like a sore thumb.

Flipping the file open, she picked up the record of her birth, looking just as she remembered it.  “Allegra Francis Castanelli, born to Therese Bongiovi Castanelli and Michael Anthony Castanelli  on February 19, 1971.”

It was embossed with an official seal from the Monmouth County clerk’s office, and gave no impression of being anything but the genuine article.    How was it possible to have both an adoption certificate AND an official birth certificate with her parents’ names on it?  There had to be something else to explain this.

Anxious hands shoved the birth certificate aside, delving back into the adoption file.  Deciphering the odd assortment of documents was a time consuming tasking, considering Allegra’s lack of familiarity with legal paperwork.  She was still trying to untangle it all when a voice called from downstairs.

“Ms. Castanelli?  Is everything all right?”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she was startled to realize she’d been up here for over half an hour.  The time was now after eight o’clock.  No wonder Thomas had come searching for her.  He probably thought she’d been abducted again.

“Yes Thomas!  I’ll be right down,” she called, gathering up the papers in an effort to reassemble them in some sort of logical order.

Her parents had some serious explanations to make, but she wasn’t going to demand them until she’d had a chance to go through all these papers for herself.   Stuffing the remnants of the mystery together, she tucked them under her arm and rose to her feet.  Taking a moment to restore order to the filing cabinet before she left, she carefully closed the drawer and re-locked it.  She tucked the photograph inside the front cover of the adoption file.  Allegra paused in returning the key to its rightful spot, the implications of what she’d found tonight temporarily overpowering her.

Adopted. 

ADOPTED.

It was one of those times that the more you said a word, the stranger it sounded, until it almost seemed to be of another language.   As far as Allegra was concerned, that was befitting since she felt like she’d stepped through the looking glass and into another land.  

Adopted.

She shook her head, still dumbfounded.

Mindful of Thomas waiting patiently for her return, she forcibly pushed through the sea of swimming thoughts and emotions and hurried back downstairs.  She could dwell on all this back at Jon’s.

Adopted. 

♫♥♫

Richie quietly let himself into the guest house so as not to wake Allegra.  He should be holed up in a Connecticut casino, but he’d done the gambling thing last night and had no interest in a second round.  The lure to return to her after the show had been too great to resist, so he’d convinced Jon to join him for the short flight back to New Jersey.

Slipping stealthily across the threshold, he immediately noticed the lights in the living room and moved to investigate.

She must’ve forgotten to turn them off before she went to bed.

That thought was immediately negated when he drew up short at the sight of her seated on the sofa, apparently deep in thought.  Her concentration was centered in the snowstorm of papers surrounding her.

“Sunshine?”

Though he’d kept his voice soft, Allegra was visibly startled.  Papers went sliding every which way when she jumped at the sound.  Her hand went to her throat and she frowned at him.

“Jeez Richie, you scared me!  I didn’t expect you back tonight.”  Irritation morphed immediately into concern and she began clearing the mess away so that she could stand.  “Is everything okay?  Are YOU okay?”

“I’m sorry, baby.  Everything’s fine, I just didn’t want to sleep alone.”  She stepped into his arms, making him smile. 

“Mm.  I’m glad you’re here.” She rested her cheek against the hard wall of his chest, simply appreciating his strength.

He smoothed back the errant tendrils that had escaped the confinement of her ponytail, sighing with contentment at the weight of her arms around his waist.  “What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the clutter around the sofa.

 “It’s been an… interesting night.   Is Jon home, too?”    

“I just get here and you’re asking about Jon?  I must be doing something wrong,” he teased.  “Let me try this again.”  His eyes drifted to her mouth a second before his lips followed suit.  The soft breath she emitted at the touch stirred him, and his tongue peeked out to gently swipe across the seam of her lips.  Her tiny sighs and whimpers of appreciation never failed to enamor Richie, and it was additional incentive to dip into the sweetness of her mouth.

At the first touch of their tongues, the kiss grew more heated.  The slow, burning flame ignited into a blaze of wildfire doused by gasoline.  Richie groaned into the fiery confines of her mouth, claiming it more fully with a slight tilt of his head and the spear of his tongue.  The the strain of their physical limitations since the attack was becoming more acute, and she was quickly chipping away at the little control he had left. 

Her feminine fingers buried themselves in the hair at his nape, pushing to keep their mouths fused together while aligning her chest against his with a purr of appreciation.  She rose on tiptoe, briefly dragging her body upward against his.

Richie had missed this.  He was a man who appreciated sex, although what man DIDN’T appreciate sex?  But making love to his woman wasn’t even sex; it was a feeling like no other.  The possession, satisfaction and completion of THIS woman made him feel the epitome of manhood.  He was hopeful that they could reconnect on that level again soon, but for now...

With a growl, he clasped his arms firmly around her torso to stop the friction she was insistent on creating between them.

Parting her mouth from his with a moist pop, her eyes were glazed when she breathed, “What?  You don’t like?”

His sultry chuckle immediately set that notion to rest, and he nipped playfully at her bottom lip.  “I like a little too much, I’m afraid.  Besides, you were interested in Jon.  Remember?”

“Too much is not enough if you’re stopping me,” she sulked, temporarily put off of her original task.

“Not yet, baby.  It’s too soon.  You still need to heal.”  He separated their bodies with a step backward, visibly refocusing himself, but retaining a grip on her hand.  “So what’s with the pile of papers?”

“You come in and effectively distract me from that mess, and then expect me to talk about coherently in the blink of an eye.”  She sighed in disbelief.  “You’re going to make me think you don’t want damaged goods if you’re not careful.”  The haze clearing from her mind, she didn’t allow him the opportunity to respond, but pushed immediately forward.  “I went to my parents’ house tonight for my original birth certificate so I could apply for the passport.”

His brown eyes drank her in as he speculated on her chosen terminology.  ‘Damaged goods’ was a fairly accurate assessment.  She was damaged, and he didn’t think he’d done enough to help her move past that.  When he could believe that he’d been more help than hindrance, he would address it in detail.  For now, he just let it slide and tried to pay attention to what she was saying.

She turned to pluck a piece of paper from the top of the nearest stack and presented it to him.  “I found it.”

Unsure as to why this warranted all the special attention, he frowned.  “Okay?”

Allegra reached for a different stack of papers this time, once again grabbing the one on top and presenting it to him.  “And I found this.”

Looking back and forth between the two certificates, he could see that the date of birth was the same.  “You have two birth certificates?”

“Apparently so.  And look at the names on the second one.”

Doing as instructed he read the information silently, his eyes rounding in shock.  “Holy shit…”

“Now you know why I was asking for Jon.”