I followed into my mother's footsteps. I am Kristina Davis, attorney-at-law. I took over mama's practice after her death two years ago. She was a single parent. Mama raised me with values. "Work hard and you will be rewarded," she would always say. "Never take a bribe, never get involve with the wrong persons and never ever fall in love with the wrong kind of man. You will suffer the consequences." You see, she fell in love with Port Charles' most notorious mobster.
"The Mobster and The Attorney." It sounds like one of those movies of the week. With his thick black hair, dark brown eyes and dimpled cheeks, he looked like a 21st century version of Ricky Ricardo of the old I Love Lucy television series.
One of mama's treasured possesion was this lacquered chinese chest. In it, I found several articles of them. She was his private attorney. He knew how to work around the system or should I say work around her. His line of business? Shipment of imported coffee beans.
I attended Harvard Law and at the age of thirty-three, I became a junior partner in my law firm.
While attending law school, mama would always give me these scenarios in helping me with my case loads. She had never once mentioned her involvment of her most well-known client. He paid her well. He set her up in a luxurious penthouse apartment across from his, overlooking the bay.
Once I caught her looking at a picture of herself. It was inscribed "Us"In the back of the photograph. She was dressed beautifully in a long white low-cut dress which hung perfectly on her body. A gardenia held up one side of her brown hair which fell on her shoulders. He was handsomely dressed in a tuxedo. "The one who got away?" When I questioned her about it, she said it was just a dinner meeting. Dressed like that? I was fascinated by him, but, I never mentioned it again.
Mama had this idiosyncrasy of a daily ritual of taking her photograph out of her dresser drawer and gazing at it, as if she was reminiscing her most treasured memories. She had a history with him. This gun-totting mobster, standing next to her in that photograph which she so cherished, framed in 14kt gold, was not only her client, but my father, Michael Sonny Corinthos.
My father. I've often wondered about him. He never knew about me. Mama had done her best in keeping his identity a secret. But, like many secrets, it eventually comes to surface. I received an urgent telephone call from my cousin Nikolas that mama had taken ill. I took the first flight to Port Charles. Rushing to her bedside, she laid helpless. She suffered a heart attack and died several days later after I arrived. Thinking back now, she probably died of a broken heart.
I remember seeing papa at the services. Of course, I did not know who he was then. A very distinguished gentleman around seventy, with salt and pepper hair had offered his condolences. I was taken by him. With the help of his cane, he walked up to her picture, he gestured the sign of the cross, bowed and gently ran his fingers across her face. He was latin and definitely a catholic. I also remembered his dark brown eyes filled with tears. He did not say much, just that he was a very good friend of mama's, a very long time ago.
So, how did I find out that the gentleman, who looked more like a posterboard for "grandfather of the year", the gun-totting mobster, Sonny Corinthos, was my father? I found a letter buried in the bottom of her laquered chest underneath that beautiful dress she wore in that photograph.
Dear Sonny:
I have been lying to you. What I really meant to say, was there is not a night I haven't cried for you. You were the one thing that meant the most to me in my life. Thinking back, I wish I had the courage to tell you then what I am about to say to you now.
Kristina is your child, Sonny. She is the love of my life. Now, you come in second.
Please forgive me for being so unfair and cruel to you. Call me a coward for not being able to tell you face to face. I am not asking anything from you. My biggest regret is not telling you about my pregnancy. I had numerous occasions these last four years to tell, but, each time I tried to approach you, I'd take two steps back. I know you more than anyone else. You are not a forgiving person. I will never be able to make it up to you.
All I ask of you is to give Kristina a chance to know her father. I have never regreted having her. Thank you for my child. I know that we were not meant to be. I remember that night. I will remember it for the rest of my life. That night you gave me Kristina. I will love you until the end of time.
Love,
Alexis
I sat on the living room floor reading that letter over and over again. The stationery showed signs of age due to the constant handling. She never mailed the letter to my father. Instead, she kept it for safe keepings, maybe for me to see it one day. And now it was my secret.
It was a couple of months after mama's services that I came across Sonny again. He dropped by my law firm unanounced. Dark and handsome. I can see why she fell in love with him.
He handed me a gift box. Inside was a beautiful crucifix with diamonds and emeralds outlining the cross. He said it was supposed to have been a gift for mama. But, he decided against it and kept it all these years as a remembrance of what could have been.
He placed the pendant around my neck. He looked at me and said, "You are beautiful, just like Alexis". I hugged him tightly and he kissed me softly on my forehead. He looked at me and for a moment, I had this perception that he knew I was his daughter.
I cried myself to sleep that night. He loved her. I could see it in his eyes. The way he got choked up at the mention of her name.
I found myself at his doorstep one morning. He had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. He hugged me and touched the cross which hung around my neck.
I needed answers from him. If only mama had the courage to tell him. I would have had a father all through my growing years. I'd watch other children with their dads, especially on father's day and I envied each and everyone of them.
Maybe things would have been different. They could have been together. How sad to love someone and not be able to be with that person.
Well, tomorrow would be father's day. I handed him the letter and he slowly unfolded it. He looked up at me several times, tears began to fall down his face. He broke down and cried. He clutched mama's letter against his chest.
MY god, I told myself. She never knew the pain he went through, loving her. As I watched him, tears fell rapidly down his face. I walked up to him and I began to cry.
"Papa?" He looked at me and said, "My Kristina, my daughter". He hugged me and rocked me back and forth. "Happy Father's Day, Papa."
Papa made up for lost time. We celebrated every holiday together, especially mama's birthday. I fell in love with my newly found family. I had weekly Sunday dinners at papa's. He was an excellent cook. He even attempted to teach me on concocting authentic spanish cusine.
Our life together was short-lived. I only had him for two years. I was with him when it happened.
As he held my hand tightly in his, he looked up at me, smiled his dimpled smile, nodded and closed his eyes. He knew he would finally be with her. How coincidental that papa's demise was a repeat of mama's.
Somehow, I could hear her voice whispering in his ears. "I saved a place for you, I have been waiting for you."
I could see mama waiting for him at her garden of eden, her paradise. With her hand extended to him, she in her beautiful white dress, a gardenia in her hair and he in his tuxedo.
"Welcome home, Sonny."
They will finally again dance that dance together which they had done years ago. Alexis Davis and Michael Sonny Corinthos, this is their story.
It was just one night. I am Kristina Davis-Corinthos, a product of their love.