Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
E MERALD
I’ve come to the bridal boutique with Milena, Giulietta, Jaspar, Jacquetta, Nicki, and Anni Marchiano.
Anni is Christian’s sister, and she is visiting from Chicago where she now lives after her marriage to Lorenzo Marchiano. But since Anni is in town, I invited her here today because I’ve always got on well with her.
Just before we’re due to start, Fidella—Jacquetta’s mom—rushes in. And I shoot her a smile, really glad that she managed to make it today. Fidella has also brought Ma Veneti along with her. Ma Veneti is Fidella, Anni, and Christian’s mother, as well as being Jacquetta’s grandmother. Ma Veneti totters into the boutique like she owns the place, wearing six-inch stilettos and a leopard-print fur jacket. She must be around seventy, but as usual, her hair is dyed an unnatural shade of bright auburn, and she’s wearing huge hoop earrings.
The boutique has crystal chandeliers and an expensive scent that drifts through the air. And everywhere I look, I can see racks of sophisticated and elegant gowns, their silk, satin, lace, taffeta, and tulle fabrics illuminated under the bright lights. As we’re sitting on the couches and waiting for our bridal consultant to finish her previous appointment, an assistant comes over to us, carrying a tray with a bottle of champagne and several filled flutes. “Can I offer you ladies a glass of bubbles?” she asks in a singsong voice, holding out a flute to Ma Veneti.
Ma Veneti’s nostrils flare as she scowls at her.
“Er, is there something else you would prefer,” the assistant asks, practically wilting under the death stare she’s currently receiving.
Ma Veneti can only manage a fierce growl as she bares her teeth, and the assistant looks like she’s about to run away screaming.
“Just give my mother the whole bottle,” Anni sighs.
“Um…okay…whatever she needs,” the assistant gulps, glancing uneasily at us and our bodyguards before holding out the bottle to her.
Ma Veneti snatches it from her with a gleeful cackle. “Let the party begin!” she shrieks.
Fidella is about to say something, but the consultant arrives, so the dress appointment gets started. I try on several dresses before finding one which is just perfect. Everyone coos over my dress and tells me how beautiful I look. And although I’m trying to enjoy it, all I can think about is the baby.
Saint is picking up the kids and me after this, so I text him to let him know that I’ve nearly finished and that he can pick me up soon.
“This brings back memories,” Ma Veneti sighs. “I wish I was getting married again.” Then her eyes light up as an idea pops into her head. “I think I should be allowed to get a dress too!”
“Ma,” Fidella sighs. “You don’t need another dress. And Christian says you really need to rein in your spending.”
Ma narrows her eyes at her and then bursts into tears. “But I w-w-want one!” She’s sobbing now—extremely loudly.
“Oh God, we shouldn’t have let her have all that alcohol,” Fidella mutters to Anni.
“As if we could have stopped her,” Anni replies with a grin. “You know there’s three things which Ma loves and won’t let anyone take away from her: alcohol, guns, and her gambling.”
Jacquetta merely giggles at her grandmother’s antics because she’s more than used to her acting in this way. I don’t know if it’s because Ma Veneti belongs to the ruling family of the Imperiosi, but she’s always been extremely demanding…and slightly crazy. When Anni married Lorenzo Marchiano so that the Imperiosi could make an alliance with his family, Ma Veneti was instrumental in nearly messing up the whole marriage due to her outrageous behavior which drove Lorenzo up the wall. Anni was already a. lot for Lorenzo to handle, but the added interference of her ma was almost too much for him to bear.
Realizing that Fidella isn’t being swayed by her tears, Ma Veneti ups her game and starts wailing at the top of her voice. “You’re being so m-m-mean, Fidella!”
Fidella looks horrified at the scene her mother is causing, while Anni stifles a laugh behind her hand. The assistant looks at us in alarm. The bridal boutique is supposed to be a place of joy where dreams come true—not somewhere where dramatic scenes of family disharmony unfold.
“Okay, Ma!” Fidella hisses as she reluctantly gives in. “You can have one dress, but you have to stop the hysterics.”
And with that, Ma Veneti stops crying—instantaneously. And she snatches up her champagne flute. “I’ll need another bottle,” she announces with a mischievous gleam in her eye. And her change in mood is a bit too quick if you ask me, but then I get the feeling that this woman knows exactly how to get whatever she wants. And Anni just grins as she shakes her head because she knows that her ma is never going to change.
Then dresses are brought out for Ma Veneti, and she’s enjoying trying them on and being the center of attention.
“Which one do you think you want?” Anni asks her mother.
She frowns. “None of these are quite right…”
“Can we bring you out some dresses in a different style to try on, Madam?”
Ma Veneti nods manically “Yes, that’s what I need. A different style—bring out the slutty dresses!”
“Ma!” Anni rolls her eyes, while the assistant’s jaw drops. But Anni gives the assistant a nod, knowing that she won’t be going home until her ma gets exactly what she wants.
“This reminds me of my wedding day—and also of my wedding night. Oh, how your father loved having a virgin in his bed!”
“Ma, for goodness sake, keep your voice down!” Fidella says in a loud whisper. Because people aren’t even pretending not to eavesdrop—they’re outright gawking with their mouths wide open.
She looks through the new selection of dresses, picks one, and dashes off to get changed into it.
Before long, there’s a rustle of fabric behind me, followed by gasps.
I turn.
And I blink several times.
Because Ma Veneti emerges from a fitting room wearing a barely-there, sequin-covered mini dress with a plunging neckline and cutouts at the waist. It’s tight. Like, vacuum-sealed tight . “What do you think?” she says, striking a pose.
Anni coughs to cover a giggle. Fidella looks horrified. And Jacquetta is turning red in the face as she tries to hold in her laughter. The consultant freezes mid-step, trying to smile but failing miserably. Fidella tries to keep her voice calm. “Ma, don’t you think that’s…a bit bold?”
She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Oh please, I’ve still got it. Why should the bride get all the attention?” She twirls around again and again, the hem of the dress riding dangerously high. “This screams confidence, don’t you think?”
It screams something, but I don’t say it, and Jacquetta and I collapse into a fit of giggles, no longer able to hold it back.
The consultant attempts diplomacy. “That style is from our bachelorette collection, actually…”
But Ma Veneti doesn’t care. She disappears back into the fitting room, only to emerge a minute later in another dress. I look on as she struts across the floor to us. This dress is sheer, with strategically placed feathers that leave little to the imagination.
Jacquetta drops her phone. Anni chokes on her champagne. And Fidella goes wide-eyed like she’s just seen a ghost—or witnessed a crime. “No, Ma, you’re not buying that,” Fidella croaks.
She sighs dramatically. “You young people are so uptight. When I got married, we didn’t wear those meringue-shaped things. We showed off!”
“You were nineteen then,” Anni reminds her mother with a grin.
She shrugs. “Age is just a number. Besides, who says older women can’t be sexy?”
Then I realize that the boutique has gone completely silent. A well-dressed family in the corner exchange awkward glances. The consultant offers her most professional smile and holds out a full-length taffeta gown which she suggests would suit perfectly.
But Ma Veneti snorts and tosses it aside. She stands in front of the mirror and fluffs her hair. “Oh please, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. I’m just trying to find something fun to wear. I want to stand out!”
“Oh, you’ll definitely stand out, Ma,” Anni chuckles.
Undeterred, Ma Veneti disappears and reemerges in a white latex number that squeaks when she walks and pushes her boobs up and out.
Fidella looks like she might faint. And a little girl across the boutique asks her mom, “Is that lady in the circus?”
Saint arrives to collect me just as Ma Veneti emerges in the latest dress, singing Madonna’s ‘ Like A Virgin ’ at the top of her voice. “ Like a virgin, touched for the very first tim e,” she sings out-of-tune as she skips along. “How I wish I could have my cherry popped all over again!”
Saint’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but she carries on singing and prancing around the room before flinging herself onto a couch and draping herself over it in what she hopes is a sultry pose.
I say goodbye to everyone and give them all a hug. “Thanks so much for coming today and helping me choose,” I say to Anni. “Sorry I have to dash off.”
“Wish I could escape this as well,” Anni murmurs with an exasperated grin as she hugs me back. “I can’t wait for your wedding, Emerald. You’re going to look absolutely stunning in that dress.”
And with a final wave at everyone, I head for the exit with Saint and the kids at my side.
“What was that all about?” Saint asks as I quickly lead him away. “And I wonder if Christian knows that his ma is completely out of control.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to explain?”
“Probably not,” he mutters as he holds open the car door for me.
And as I slide into the car, my mind wanders again to the baby inside of me. And I know I have to tell Saint very soon...
* * *
The next day, with the kids all at school, the table is quiet as Saint and I sit there and drink coffee. My hand unconsciously slips into my pocket and fingers the chessboard keychain Saint gave me.
It’d been hard getting Milena out of bed this morning—she was out late at her friend’s house last night again as she said they had a paper they needed to study for—but now the kids are all where they need to be, I’m taking twenty minutes to relax.
Saint’s fingers drift up and down my arm, and I try my best not to look nervous. Not to look like I’m hiding things. His touch comes with an onslaught of emotions and feelings. It still makes my skin tingle and light up, but it also comes with something else.
“Emerald?”
“Hmm?”
My heart races. Has he found out? Am I that bad at hiding it? I’d vanished yesterday to see a doctor to confirm that I was, in fact, pregnant. And yup, it was definitely real. Even the shot has a small failure rate.
I know I have to tell him today.
But I’m struggling to find the words.
I take a deep breath. “Saint…”
But before I can say any more, he drops his phone in front of my face, and I blink. “I…”
I say no more as I stare at the conversation on the screen.
“What is that?” I manage to get out finally.
“It’s a conversation about one of the gun-runners we have,” Saint says. “He said he couldn’t make the run, so he got someone to fill in for him. Milena .”
“The hell he has!” I snap.
Saint shakes his head. He’s just as shocked as I am. “It’s happening right now. It’s too late to stop it. For fuck’s sake.”
“She’s supposed to be at school.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. She’s skipping school to be a runner ? Of all the dumb stunts to pull. I feel like crying.
Saint gets an urgent call and has to leave for the casino, saying as he leaves that we need to talk about Milena, but it’ll have to wait until later. I’m left sitting in shock in the kitchen. How has everything gotten so completely messed up?
* * *
Later, when she finally gets home, I storm through the house and meet her on the stairs. “ Milena .”
“Emerald. I can’t talk. I’m going out with friends.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No?”
“You heard me, no.”
She laughs. “Funny.”
“I’m serious,” I say, trying to keep calm.
“What? Why?”
“I heard some real interesting news.” My hand is on my hip. “Someone seems to be under the impression that you’re running for the Imperiosi.”
“So, what’s the big deal?” She shrugs, not even denying it.
“The big deal?” I scoff. “It’s illegal. And you’re skipping class. And I checked with your dance coach, and she says you’ve missed dance practice every day this week. Is that a big enough deal for you?”
“You’re checking up on me now? Jesus. You’re making this a lot bigger than it needs to be. It’s fine.”
How can she sound so blasé about it all? “No, it’s not.”
“I said it’s fine, Em. Why are you being so lame about this?”
“ Lame ? Milena this is your future you’re talking about. School is important. Not going to prison is important!”
“Why do I even have to go to this dumb school in the first place? All my friends are at my old school. And my new friends do this kind of thing all the time.”
I feel bad that the kids had to change schools after moving into the apartment with me, but I can’t believe I’m actually having to argue about this with my sister. “So, you just do whatever everyone else does? You don’t think for yourself? And you can’t skip class! You need to graduate high school, Milena, and not end up in prison?—”
“It’s a few classes. I’m still doing just fine in school.”
“Running isn’t happening anymore,” I grit out, crossing my arms over my chest. “ That’s done and over .”
She glares at me. “Why?”
“Because it’s dangerous!”
“You did it!”
“ What ? Dammit, Milena. What I did isn’t important.”
“Yeah, it is. So, you can do it, Em, but I can’t?”
“When I did it, the circumstances were wildly different. If I hadn’t done it, we’d have been homeless. What I did was for us all.”
“We wouldn’t have been homeless,” she snaps back. “You would have bounced to the next rich guy, and he would’ve bailed us out of the hole we were in.”
I blink. “ Excuse me ?” I try to ignore the sharp sting of her basically calling me a gold digger. “I ran those guns because that was the only way we wouldn’t lose our home. What I did and what you’re doing are two very different things. You’re done with running guns. We don’t need the money, and you don’t need to get caught!”
She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs.
“Milena! I haven’t finished!”
But her door slams, and I’m left to slump down on the last stair. How the hell did this all happen? And when did it all happen? I know I’ve been distracted lately with all the Calcedonio fallout, but how has everything gone so wrong? What am I going to do? My hands ball into fists as the tears trickle down from my eyes.
I thought she was doing okay, but I know I’ve taken my eye off the ball. Who the heck are the kids she’s hanging out with who are doing stuff like this? I thought I knew all her friends, and they’re not the sort to get mixed up in stuff like running. Milena must have fallen in with a different crowd—and they sound like a bad sort.
I know she’s been through a lot with all the stuff that went on with my mom and her long line of loser boyfriends, having to move home to the new apartment and then here, but she seemed to be handling it okay. Maybe I’ve relied on her too much? Maybe I shouldn’t ask her to watch the younger kids as much or let her know so much about our problems? I’ve tried to shield my siblings from most of our difficulties, but Milena’s a smart kid and often picks up on stuff.
She didn’t mean any of what she said, right? I tell myself that she’s just being a teenager. I look up at the ceiling, trying to will myself to calm down. I will not let her words affect me. Even though it’s clear that’s a losing battle.
If my own sister thinks the same as everyone else seems to think, that I’m a grasping gold digger, what freaking hope do I have?
Unconsciously, my hand rubs against the flat of my stomach. What business do I have in bringing another life into the world? I close my eyes as I hang my head in my hands. How did it all get so screwed up? How did I mess up this bad?
The foyer is dark by the time I realize I haven’t moved in God knows how long.
I’m no better when Saint walks in for the night. I’m at the chess table, looking out over the yard. Milena left a while ago despite a round two and me telling her no—it ended about as well as the first round of arguing.
We start playing a game of chess, and Saint asks about Milena.
“Milena and I got into the running thing earlier.” And I give him a short version of our argument. I know I still have to tell him about the baby. And I want to ask him what he thinks. Does he think I can do this? Does he think I’m cut out to be a mom? But the words won’t come out—because I just can’t give any headspace to the pregnancy right now, not while my mind’s still scrambling with the revelation of what Milena’s been up to and the trouble she’s getting herself into.
Saint’s phone beeps, and he gets it out to see a message from Christian. “I’ve got to go back out.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. We can talk more about Milena later. You going to be okay here alone?”
“I’ll probably call it an early night. I’m worn out.”
He stands without another word. And kissing my forehead, he vanishes down the hall. I wait until the door shuts with a soft slam.
This is all messed up. All wrong.
Sighing, I flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears sting my eyes and burn the back of my throat, but I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to cry anymore. My phone buzzes on the end table, and with a resigned sigh, I grab it.
Thank God for best friends. A small smile pulls my lips up as Jacquetta’s gif reply lights my screen in our chat. It’s just what I needed. A silly cat dancing. I don’t even think about it before I hit the call button.
“Who are we killing?” she asks.
“What?” I laugh, a nervous lilt to it.
“I was joking!” Jacquetta giggles.
I relax into the bed and let out an exhale. “Sorry. I’m just having a bad night.”
“Uh-oh. What’d Saint do? I’ll kick his ass. Better yet, we’ll get Christian to do it, so that we can plead plausible deniability.”
I snort out a laugh. “As nice as that sounds, it’s actually…a lot of things.”
“Oh no, this is one of those serious conversations. Hold on.” I hear shuffling before her voice fills my ear again. “Okay. All set. Let’s hear it.”
I exhale, eyes closing. “Okay. Well, Milena and I got into it. Bad. Like really bad.”
“Over?”
“She’s running for the Imperiosi and skipping school to do it.”
“Christ...”
“Yeah. I confronted her, and well, she was Milena about it. But it wasn’t really the argument, I guess. It’s just...” I can hear my voice waiver, and I clear my throat, trying to keep my throat from clogging with tears even as my vision blurs. “I’m pregnant.” My voice waivers again, but I don’t stop. I need to get this out. To get it off my chest. “And Milena said some stuff. Some things that I think might be true. I just don’t know anymore.” A strained sound leaves me. “I mean, does Saint even love me? I know he said I’m the only woman for him and proposed to me, but does he actually love me ? Because he hasn’t said it out aloud. And I’ve been ignoring it up until now, but I can’t any longer, not when a baby’s in the picture. I know there’s things he thinks he can’t give me. And I thought I was okay with that. I thought it didn’t matter because I was in love with him and what he was giving me was enough for me. But was I wrong? Do I need those things? Do I need his love ?”
“Oh boy. Okay,” Jacquetta soothes. “One thing at a time. You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re like a hundred percent sure?”
“Uh-huh. Officially confirmed.”
“Wow. Okay. And how do you feel about the news? Wait, sorry, stupid question given you’re literally crying.”
I laugh softly, the sound thick with tears. “Honestly, I want this baby, but I’m scared, Jacquetta. I’m really scared. Am I even capable of raising a kid or being a mom? I mean, just look at Milena. She’s doing illegal stuff and yelling at me and just about calling me a gold digger. How would I be any better with a baby?”
“First off, you are not doing a bad job with your siblings, Em. Milena is a teenager. Moody and temperamental are normal, remember?” She exhales, and I can picture her flicking her hair off her face. “You’re doing a lot right now. You’ve done a lot for your siblings, more than any older sister should have to do. So, stop beating yourself up, okay? You rock, Em. And you love those kids like they’re your own.”
I want to believe that. I want to say I agree and that everything is fine now. But it’s not. What Milena said, that others have said so many times in the past, keeps circling in my head again and again. Dragging me down further and further until I’m so far past rock bottom it’s not even funny.
“How did Saint take the news?”
“He doesn’t know yet.” I wrap my arms around my knees as the phone rests between my shoulder and cheek. “I don’t know how I’d even tell him. We didn’t really… I mean, it’s never come up. Being with me means he’s had to take on my siblings as well as me, but a baby? I don’t know if he’s the type to even want a kid.”
She’s quiet for a long moment.
“That’s not the only thing, Jacquetta. I shoplifted again…”
“But I thought you were going to that help group?”
“I am. I couldn’t help myself. And I’m lecturing Milena about doing illegal stuff when I’m just as bad with the stealing. I just needed something to feel like me again. But afterward, I just felt so ashamed.” The way my voice breaks, cracks, and splinters down the middle makes me feel so weak. I’m so tired of crying. So tired of being not enough for everyone…
There’s a shout in the background and someone calling for Jacquetta. “Are you going to be okay, Em?”
“Me?” I give another painful laugh. “I’m fine. Really. You’ve got stuff to do now.”
“Emerald…”
I want to lie to her, to tell her that I can handle this like I’ve handled everything, but the words won’t come out.
“I’ll check in with you later tonight, okay? We’re not done, Em, and if you need me, I’m a text away. And I’ve got cat gifs galore.”
I snort before swiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve. “Thanks, Jacquetta,” I whisper.
“I love you, Em.”
“Love you too, Jac.”
The line disconnects, and I’m left sitting in the dark room. I bury my head in my knees and swallow down the sob that threatens to leave me as I wonder what I’m going to do now.
I look around myself.
And I know that I don’t belong here in this mansion.
Or among the people in the Imperiosi.
Or with Saint Veneti…