Little Blue Note

     The woman was beautiful. So beautiful in fact that Sofia could not look at her for fear of tainting her perfection with the eyes of someone so average. And her dress- it was like nothing Sofia had ever seen. The blonde woman, hair in an elegant updo, wore her dress like a queen. The skirt looked covered in vines made out of diamonds reaching up toward the starry heavens and the angel herself.

     Sofia had never worn anything so beautiful. The dress fit the woman as though it had been made for her; but, then, it had. Incredible though it was, she sometimes forgot how much her life had changed. The food she would eat would be of the highest quality. Cold showers were a thing of the past. She wasn't limited to hand-me-downs anymore. She wasn't limited at all, really.

     After her mother died, everything became a blur. One minute she is living with her grandparents, the next, a letter written on scented paper arrives to tell her a father she never knew has invited her to stay with him. At first she couldn't believe it. I mean, every fatherless child dreams of a father who will swoop in and save the day. The trouble is, most of those children aren't given such a luxury. But Sofia wasn't most children; not even close. Her life with her mother was not abnormal considering the circumstances. Her mother was 19 when she got pregnant, thrown out of the house and forced to live a life she had never really planned. However, though housing was unpleasant and "finances" was a word too fancy for what little money they had, Sofia never felt unloved. She was her mother's world and all they needed was each other. That is, until Sofia's mother needed a doctor and no one would help her. Sofia was 17 and working full time at that point. She was as smart as she needed to be so school became an afterthought. When her mother died, she had no idea what to do so she just kept working; her ever-present smile replaced by swollen eyes and a nose read from constant blowing. Then, the letter came.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sofia,

First, please accept my condolences for the loss of your mother. My name is Marina Render and, on behalf of your father, I invite you to come stay with us. He knows this may come as a surprise to you but, dear girl, you came as a surprise to him. If you wish to accept this offer, all will be explained when you arrive.

At your service,

Marina Render

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     Somehow she found herself in a house the size of her neighborhood before doors taller than her mother's trailer, waiting to enter the library. The butler-they have a butler- waited beside her. Her first few attempts at nervous conversation resulted in nervous silence so she eventually just gave up. Honestly, the tall balding man next her wasn't someone she would normally talk to; the way he looked down his nose at her was far from approachable. But when the doors opened, his face changed and they began to walk toward the angel in black.

     With a pleasant smile on her face, the woman stood up from a plush chair at their approach. Her face was perfectly symmetrical with a clear complexion and eyes brighter than the sky. From a perfect mouth came the words, "Do you like it here? Will you stay?"

     Sofia was not a stupid girl and figured this was why she had been invited. Never-the-less, hearing the words out loud left her completely overwhelmed. She looked around at all the books looking for her answer.

     "It's... big."

     The woman laughed, a soft, girlish laugh. "Well, yes." she said. "From what I understand of your previous living arrangements, this is a bit of a change." Though the woman obviously knew about the trailer Sofia had most recently called home, the woman showed no sign of mockery or even pity.

     In any other situation, Sofia would have responded sarcastically with "Really? I hadn't noticed." However, between the woman's kind disposition and everything else, all she got out was a very quiet "yeah."

     "I see you've met Jeremy," she said gesturing towards the butler. "I trust he treated you well?"

     "He treated me well, thank you ma'am." Though Jeremy had not moved at the sound of his name, Sofia could tell he was listening. "He was a bit quiet, though."

     The woman laughed again. "He's never been the chattiest of people," she turned to him. "Have you, Jeremy." The silent butler gave a twitch which Sofia assumed was supposed to be a smile. Honestly, though he reminded her more of professor snape giving a polite smile to Harry just because Dumbledore was around. He does kind of look like Alan Rickman now that I think about it. Sofia thought to herself, So I guess this woman is Dumbledore. The thought of calling this beautiful woman Dumbledore reminded Sofia that she did not yet know the woman's real name.

     As if reading her mind -maybe she was Dumbledore-, the woman said, "Oh were are my manners, my name is Marina Render." Marina, of course! How could she have forgotten the blue note and the beautiful signature that started it all? Hmm Marina Sofia thought it suits her. Wait, speaking of the note- "In your note you said you would answer my questions."

     The woman- Marina- seemed unsurprised by the subject change. "Yes."

     "You said I came as a surprise to... to him... to my..."

     "To your father, yes." Marina finished the sentence gently.

     "What did you mean?"

     Marina's smile changed from patient to sad. "Well, honey, it's not the best story. You see, some people have certain opinions that cannot be changed and therefore others suffer." At Sofia's confused silence, she continued. "Your parents were young when they met. Your grandmother worked as a maid in a hotel that your father's parents owned."

     This came as a surprise to Sofia. Though her grandmother did not speak English very well, Sofia spoke Spanish fluently. That was mandatory. Having a white father did not erase her mexican heritage though her grandmother seemed to think so. So Sofia, with skin a little lighter, hair just as dark, and bright green eyes was forced to be as Mexican as her parentage (according to her grandmother) would allow. When she was about 7, Sofia's mother finally grew tired of her own mother's constant negativity when it came to Sofia's father. So, they moved out. Or, rather, Sofia's mother stood up for herself and was kicked out along with her daughter. But in the 7 years that passed and even the few days after her mother died, Sofia's grandmother had never told her about the hotel.

     "Sofia?" Marina looked at her, worried. "Are you alright?"

     "Yeah," Sofia replied. "Sorry, I just remembered something. Go on."

     "Well, alright. Your mother," Marina continued "was at the hotel all the time. She loved smelling the clean laundry and running around the halls. When she was 15 she got a job at the hotel too. Your father was 16 at the time. From the moment, he saw your mother, he knew he liked her. She had long dark hair and deep brown eyes... she looked a lot like you actually."

     "Except I have green eyes." It was all Sofia could say without crying.

     "Except for that." Marina smiled sadly.

     "Wait, how do you know so much about my mom? Did you meet her?"

     "Oh no, honey, I never met her. But I've heard so much about her that I feel like I know her."

     "You've heard..."

     "From your father, sweetheart. When he heard about your mother he was so upset and he told me their whole story. You see, your mother was a strong girl and she made your father work for her."

     "I thought you said she worked for him?"

     "Oh she did." Marina laughed. "I'm sorry that wasn't quite what I meant. She played hard to get. Your father was sure she liked him from the get-go to but she wasn't about to admit it. She wanted to be pursued so that's what she got. For three years he sent her flowers and notes and things but all in secret because neither of their parents would ever approve." Sofia's brow furrowed. "Do you remember what I said about people's opinions causing others to suffer?" Sofia nodded. "This is what I was talking about. So they carried on like this until your mother was 18 and your father, 19. Your mother realized that your father wasn't going anywhere and that he was good at hiding his feelings from their parents, so she finally gave in. They would meet in secret and leave notes in special places. They would have whole conversations in front of your grandmother and say things in code that she interpreted as a boss talking to a worker and nothing else. They hid it for year until one day your mother discovered something she couldn't hide."

     "Me."

     "You. She was feeling sick and talked to her mother having no idea she was pregnant. But your grandmother knew the symptoms and eventually got the whole story. She quit her job at the hotel and moved your mother away with no explanation. All your father knew was one day he was happy and in love and the next his love was gone. It was like she disappeared. After your mother died, your grandmother found our number and called us. In what little English she knew, she managed to tell us -rather rudely- what actually happened when your mother disappeared. She then told us your mother had died and she..."

     "She didn't want me."

     "Oh sweetie I'm sorry."

     "Don't be. I never liked her much anyway." Being the polite woman that she was, Marina did not know how to respond to such a statement. Sofia tried to think of something to say when she recalled a part of the story that didn't quite make sense. "You said she found 'our' number and called 'us'. Did you mean you and my father?"

     "Yes."

     "Are you his secretary or something?" At this, Marina laughed out loud. "What, he has a butler, why wouldn't he have a secretary?"

     Through her laughter, Marina managed to say, "I'm not his secretary Sofia, I'm his wife."

     "His WHAT?!" Marina stopped laughing when she heard the alarm in Sofia's voice.

     "His wife. Your father is my husband." "But- but you're- he's- but you're so nice- and..."

     "Well thank you, Sofia, but I fail to see what is so shocking."

     "The way you talk about my mom... you seemed..."

     "Fond of her?"

     "Yeah! Aren't you supposed to be jealous of her and my dad? Aren't you supposed to want his grungy daughter out of your hair?"

     "What?" This time Marina was the shocked one. "No, honey, no! I'm not jealous at all. Your father loved her and he loves me. We are just from two different parts of his life. I don't hate her any more than a woman who marries a widower hates his first wife. There love story was a marvelous one, like those you find in books. And I certainly don't what you- what did you say? 'Out of my hair?' I think you are wonderful and I think highly of both you and your mother."

     "Really?"

     Marina's porcelain hand held Sofia's dark one. "Really."

     "Wow."

     Marina laughed her girlish laugh again. "Do you think you can handle one more 'wow' today?" Sofia looked at her and her eyes widened with understanding. "Would you like to meet him?"

     Sofia could barely get out a whisper. "Can I?"

     Marina smiled and tilted her head toward two big oak doors. "He's just in there, whenever you're ready."

     Sofia stood up slowly as if she were under water; she hadn't noticed she sat down. She walked toward the doors thinking of everything and nothing all at once. Slowly she reached for one of the knobs and turned it. As it opened, she saw a study full of books. In a corner by the window, a man stood with his back to her. She couldn't see his face but she could see thick brown hair with a tinge of gray- he couldn't be forty yet- and broad shoulders covered by an expensive suit. He could've been anyone. Until he turned around herself looking into a pair of green eyes she had seen in countless mirrors her whole life.

     "Hello, Sofia."