No one paid much attention to us, but I was sure they were all on alert. “Cute couple. Here, get some of this in you; it’s a long time ‘til lunch.” Sheila put a plate overflowing with eggs, potatoes, and toast in Gianna’s hands and went back to the buffet setup to make another one for herself.
“Aren’t you eating?” Gianna asked when I took the only available seat next to hers with a look around the table at my meddling family.
“No, I have a lot of running around to do today, so coffee will do for now.”
“Oh, okay!” She picked at her food until I pretended to take the fork away from her. Then she got the message and fed herself a few measly bites. “Lance and I have to leave for a little bit...” I spoke to the table at large.
“Says who? I plan on hitting the indoor pool all day.”
I ignored him because I knew he was just trying to be difficult. “Gianna’s not allowed to leave the house for any reason until I get back.” I looked at the twins, who could care less.
“No worries, it’s going to take a minute to get all our hair done.”
“Cool, let’s go, Lancelot.”
“Where are we going? The stores don’t open for another half an hour at least.”
“Fine, damn.” He grumbled at my pointed stare and shoveled more food into his open maw.
“Here, take some cash with you.” Pop peeled off some bills for both of us because he still lives in the dark ages and hates using plastic. Then again… Never mind.
“Thanks, Pop; see you in a bit.” We made the rounds of cheek kissing with the parents and Sheila before heading out.
“Where are we going?”
“Gianna only wears jeans and tees; she needs something to wear to the museum and out to dinner.” I could let her raid the twins’ closet but buying her-her own shit fits in better with my plans.
“You’re going shopping for clothes for Gia. You! Bruh, you don’t even like shopping for yourself. And why aren’t you having them come to you, Mr. Antisocial?”
“Are you planning to nag the whole day?” I knew his huff of a sigh was just for show.
“Oh, I know, you need me to help you pick stuff out, right?”
That one stopped me in my tracks for some reason. “It was a joke, geez, don’t panic. You should see your face.” He dropped the playful banter as soon as we closed the door behind us. I should’ve sensed something was up but was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to pick up on the cues.
“Bruh, your sisters are going full ham. What guidelines did you set in place for their little revenge run?”
“No bloodshed, no malice. Everything else is acceptable.”
“Nah, I don’t know; Rosa has that glare in her eyes, and Anna’s been making those noises under her breath and smiling to herself.”
“Good, that means they’re getting things done.”
“So, you two were kinda cozy on the plane, I noticed.” He did some quirky thing with his brows, and I caught myself laughing. The idiot stopped in his tracks on the empty sidewalk with his mouth agape. “What the hell’s wrong with you now?”
“You’re laughing.”
“And, what about it?”
“Bruh, I’ve not heard you laugh, not a genuine laugh anyway, since we were about twelve? Thirteen?”
I had to give it some thought and realized he might be right. It was the first time in a long while for me, too, since I felt this lightness that comes with pure joy. Something moved in Lancelot’s eyes, and I realized that though he doesn’t push for answers anymore, he’s still worried about me. I just clapped his shoulder and pulled him in for a shoulder hug as we headed to the car that slid up next to us.
I can walk the whole of fifth avenue without losing sight of the top of the mansion, but Pop still thinks we need to be chauffeured around. There’s no point in fighting him on this, plus I know it makes him more at ease when we’re here. I had to stop myself once or twice from calling the house to ask how she was doing. Ma sounded pretty sure that her people could take care of Gianna’s hair, and from what I read, I know it could be done if a little tedious, but still, I worry.
We reached the first store, which had just opened, and I felt that itch between my shoulders when I walked in. He’s right; I hate shopping. Most of the shit in my closet ends up there when either Ma or the twins, or even sometimes Pop, orders shit. My aunt and uncle get in on the action themselves sometimes as well since it’s a running joke in the family that I’d go naked and hungry if someone weren’t around to clothe and remind me to eat.