“And what page is that?” I asked.
Gianna hesitated. I could tell how much this meant to her just by how long it took her to find the right words. “If it’s a girl I want her to be free to choose what she wants to do with her life. I want her to go to college, to get a job she loves. I want her to find the love of her life and not be forced into an arranged marriage. I want her to have sex before her wedding night, and the choice not to marry at all…”
I put a finger against her mouth, silencing her. “I get what you mean. And I agree with you, even if I’d prefer if she’d never date any guys at all.”
I could practically hear Gianna roll her eyes at me. I kissed her. “I’ll do everything in my power to give our child every possible freedom if it’s a girl. I swear it. You’ll get your wish.”
“But?” Gianna asked quietly.
I cupped her neck. “If it’s a boy, he needs to follow in my footsteps. He must become a Made Man and part of the Famiglia, not just because our men wouldn’t understand it if I spared my own son and not theirs, but also because I want him to be part of the business.”
Gianna swallowed. “So a girl gets freedom and a boy will be bound to the Famiglia.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay.”
“You sure you won’t fight me every step of the way the moment you find out it’s a boy?”
Gianna sighed. “I’ll hate it, hate it so much, but I’ll figure out a way to accept it, as long as you accept it if our girl has a normal teenage life with boys and parties.”
“Deal.”
I’d never cared much about gender, but right this moment I hoped Peanut was a girl because for me to accept a girl having her freedom would be far easier than Gianna accepting a boy becoming a murderous mobster.
Gianna
“Still pregnant?” Marcella asked the moment we stepped into their mansion. The little princess in her pretty dress and graceful movements made me want to strangle something.
I glowered at her. “Be careful. Maybe it’s contagious,” I muttered.
Marcella gave me her “yeah… sure” expression, but she sent Aria a questioning look when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. Aria and Luca hadn’t had the talk with her yet, even if I thought it was time to do so at almost ten.
“It looks heavy,” Amo added, scanning my belly as if it were a fascinating science experiment.
“Have they always been this annoying or is this the newest evolutionary step?” I asked Aria.
“I doubt a combination of you and Matteo will be any less mouthy, so you better prepare yourself,” Luca replied instead. He’d been more restrained around me but since my patience was close to zero these last few days, we were still at each other’s throats every other day.
Aria made a shush noise and hugged me awkwardly around my belly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fat, immobile, and about to burst.”
“It’s not long now.”
“That’s what you said a week before the due date. Now we’re two days past the official eviction date and it’s still in there.”
“The last few days seem to drag on forever, I know,” Aria said with a compassionate smile. “And eventually it’ll be over. Look at Lily, she’s already nine days over.”
I grimaced. “I just hope that’s not my fate as well. I don’t know how she can be so calm about it, especially with the whole home birthing thing. I’d freak-out.”
“It helps that it’s her second child. She knows what to expect.”
“I thought every pregnancy and birth was unique.”
Aria laughed. “Well, yeah, but still you feel slightly more prepared going into labor the second time around.”
I doubted I’d ever feel prepared for this whole baby producing scenario, and I would definitely never find out if a second pregnancy or birth would be easier, even if Aria insisted that I might change my mind about the whole thing once the baby was there.
“How about we move the party into the dining room so pregnant lady can get something to eat. She almost got me to pull into an Arby’s drive-in on the way here because she was about to eat my arm,” Matteo said with a grin.
I tried to punch his shoulder but my movements were slow and he was as agile as ever. “You’re dead,” I mouthed. But he only sent me a kiss.
“I thought fast food is bad for your body?” Marcella asked.
I waddled into the dining room, trying to ignore the sensation of my belly dragging me to the floor. “It is. Matteo is exaggerating. I’d eat him before I’d consume any fast food with doubtful ingredients.”
“Considering what Matteo’s consumed over the years, I doubt his ingredients are much better,” Luca said.