I’ve pretty much read between the lines of everything I’d learned so far and come to the conclusion that the stepsister and her mom were behind this shit, not sure where the dad comes into play, but it’s for sure he’s not doing his job. Either way, this is not the time for Ma to get involved. Her part in this play will come soon enough.
I feel like an episode of Pinky and the Brain with this shit. I am using my smarts to hoodwink my parents into doing some shit from behind the scenes. It can’t be helped, though, because I don’t want to get any more involved than I need to. I’ve had to remind myself every few minutes that I’m doing this out of pity and because I hate to see anyone being treated unjustly. The fact that my heart beats out of rhythm each time I think of her is neither here nor there.
“Who’s this Fontane? Do we know them?” Ma looked around at Sheila, who’s like the encyclopedia of local gossip. Something else I banked on.
“Don’t you remember, Miss. Sophia? Years ago, that nice lady that passed leaving her young daughter behind? Her best friend married her husband; there was that whole thing?”
Ma gave it a think and nodded. “Yeah, vaguely. We still lived in the city then, so I never knew too much about it, and I don’t remember hearing anything after we moved here. Is that the one?” She asked the twins, who were already nodding their heads. “Well, why wouldn’t they want her to help you?” Ma sounded very affronted, and I saw Pop out the side of my eye, ready to pounce.
Because of who we are, even though no one around here has any idea, Pop tends to take shit personally when it comes to his kids. Just the thought that anyone would shun us for any reason can get him going, which is precisely what I want. “I see their housekeeper down at the market every Wednesday. I’ll see what I can find out.” Sheila offered.
“I’ll make a call, don’t worry about it.” Pop offered. Now I can taste my eggs; now that the slight panic I felt was gone. Everything had gone pretty much as I’d hoped. Now I can relax and let the chips fall.
The conversation changed to the thing that’s been ruling the house for the last month or so. “Girls, did you look over that list we gave you? We need to get back to the caterers soon.” I zoned out here, barely listening to the chatter before I lose my damn mind. Every party for these two is an event, but their sweet sixteen is proving to be something else altogether.
I’d barely gotten out of having the whole damn county here to celebrate mine, something my parents have come to realize I would never want and were kind enough to let me have my way. In the end, it was just me, Pop, Gramps, Uncle Garrett, and Lancelot out on the boat for the weekend, followed by a big family dinner at nana’s favorite restaurant. That was all I wanted for every birthday, come to think of it, my sisters, not so much. Their shit will be the party of the century as their galas always are, and I was already thinking ahead to that shit and how I could use it in my little fuck you to the Fontanes.
Pop listened with an indulgent smile; never seen a man happier to part with the contents of his wallet, and that easily my little game was in play. I kicked Anna under the table to get things back on track before we left. “Oh, dad, don’t forget to make that call. We want to start right away, like today.” She looked at me on the sly to make sure that that’s what I was after. A slight nod reassured her that it was. “Don’t worry, Princess; I’ll take care of it as soon as we finish here.”
The ride to school was a trial in itself, with me dodging questions and innuendos about my interest in the situation. I did an excellent job of sidestepping their probes, but I’m not sure it was good enough. I gave some serious thought to heading to Gianna's side of the building but couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse for being there, so I gave it up.
Lancelot called out to me, and I waited for him to catch up. “What’s up, snitch?”
“What’re you talking about?” He looked so innocent, “Training to be a lying ass cop already, I see. You told Pop about the douche.”
“What did he do to them?”
“Sent them away somewhere.”
“Good, I was worried when he asked me for the truth. I’m not going to apologize for it either, so you can get that look off your face.”