First Love Only Love (The Life 2)

“I don’t know what I am. I’ve spoken to grandma and the aunts more this week than I have in the past ten years or so combined, but somehow coming here feels so much different to that.”

“I’m right here; no need to worry.” Her hand squeezed mine that was wrapped around it, and she went back to looking out the window.

I, too, was doing my best not to show my own angst. I’ve regretted the decision to bring her here this soon, plenty in the last week. What secrets is she going to discover? And how broken is she going to be behind them? As much as I want her to have this, I dread what coming here, hearing her mother’s side of the story, will do to her soft heart.

GIANNA

I’m more nervous about this visit than I expected to be. I keep getting the feeling that my world is about to change, my life turned upside down. I’m still dealing with the visit home and the weirdness in the air. How odd Becky was acting and why she and Victoria seemed so afraid the whole time we were there.

I wish I’d been paying more attention while Gabriel was talking to them, but dad had been so involved for the first time since forever that I was enjoying his attention too much to care. As long as Gabriel stayed next to me, I was fine.

I knew the second we walked in after dad fainted, that is, that Victoria had gone all out to get Gabriel’s attention. Whenever she’s interested in someone of the opposite sex, she always goes overboard with the makeup, and her skirt gets shorter. It must burn her to no end that Gabriel hadn’t seemed to notice.

The other thing that had stayed with me was dad’s little bombshell about keeping mom's things in storage. All this time, I was afraid there was nothing left of her, that Becky had succeeded in erasing her completely. “You’re shivering. Do you want me to tell the driver to turn around?”

“No-no, it’s okay, I’m okay.” The house came into view just then, and lots of fond memories came flooding back.

“Don’t… you know what? Cry all you want; I’m right here.” He pulled my head into his chest and held me while I released all the pent-up tension, I didn’t know I had while my family stood on the top step of the massive front porch waiting. The chauffeur came to open the door but Gabriel’s gruff, ‘close it’ had him retracting.

“We can leave and come back later if you need more time.” Somehow his matter-of-fact attitude lightened my mood, and I eased away from his chest with a grin. “No, they’ve waited very long for this. Let’s not make them wait any longer.” When he lifted my hand to his lips and looked at me in that way that only he does, I was no longer afraid of what the weekend might hold.

GABRIEL

The tears started before we made it to the door. In fact, as soon as I helped her out of the car, four women, with the grandmother leading the pack, came rushing down the steps, well, as much as society mavens rush. To be frank, the Russo billions are about a hundred, a hundred- and fifty-years tops. Her maiden family looks like the type who brought theirs over before the state was even named.

I could smell something in their blood that surpassed blue; these people are the real deal. “Oh, Gianna, my beautiful Gianna.” I had to bite my tongue not to tell grandma that I was the only one allowed to call her that. I didn’t hold back to make a good impression or anything like that; I just didn’t want to put a damper on her first visit.

So, imagine my surprise when she did it for me. “I go by Gia.” She still had a death grip on my hand, so maybe she’d felt me tense up when the old lady used her name. Don’t ask me why I won’t let anyone else use her name. Maybe it’s because no one stepped in when she was robbed of it; now they can keep calling her what they allowed someone else to dictate; they don’t deserve the privilege.

Introductions were made, and I reminded myself that these people were in a state in the U.S.A and not some old aristocracy somewhere in Europe. Something seemed very odd to me like we’d stepped off the plane and into an alternate universe. The big ass gold coat of arms over the front door and repeated in bas relief throughout the outside of the structure was a dead giveaway.

Again, I found myself making comparisons when we finally made it inside. This is what nobility lives like. Ma would lose her shit in here. It wasn’t the size of the place; ours is about the same. It wasn’t the marble floors and gilded mirrors; we’ve got those too. But the place wreaked of history. Our homes, except for the ones in New York, are about fifty years old tops.