Stage lights, glittering chandeliers, ornate balconies. Crimson brocade curtains and period costumes, a deafening applause. All the stuff of magic and dreams she had so loved.
Joseph’s eyes burned with pride as he watched his old friend and mentor, Vita Vitale, standing center stage bathed in adulation from the audience. Luminous. That was the word that kept coming to his mind. Tall and graceful, the stage lights casting a golden halo around her long auburn hair. She was as beautiful as ever. No. More so. She owned it now. When he knew her, she didn’t know who she was, what she had. She was just a bundle of adolescent yearnings with vague visions of her future.
“Vita!” “Brava!” “Vita!”
All around him the audience cheered her—Vita, Vicky, Victoria, Vi. The girl with all the names. Joseph rose to his feet with the others and continued to applaud. He smiled down at his wife, happy that she was finally encountering one of those three magical sisters he had told her about—Anne, Vita, and Beth. His work had taken him to the far-flung parts of the world, and he had lost touch with the family that had helped to shape him.
Now the gap of almost twenty years had, in an instant, closed on this New York City Broadway stage. And he saw that Vita had kept her promise.
There had been updates from his mother over the years, news that Vita had met with some success. But it wasn’t until recently, now that he was back in the States, that he understood just how successful Vita had become. An unexpected trip to New York City had him reaching out to all his contacts to help get tickets for the final night of her performance.
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