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I want to scream.
Instead, I take Vanessa’s hand and lead her back to the door. She exits before me, and I follow her back out into the restaurant.
28
LUCIA
Ihave to hand it to the make-up artist. She did an amazing job on me. The colors she chose match my complexion and the dress, and they give me an ethereal look. The shimmer powder she used will probably look great on the photos.
Too bad I can’t smile.
“You remember when to start walking?” the wedding planner asks me. She’s trying her hardest to sound chipper, but it’s clear she’s picked up on the mood in the room.
“Yep. Why don’t you go check on everything else? With almost five hundred guests, I’m sure they could use your help in the church.” I make a small shooing motion, and Miranda takes the hint to leave me, Vanessa, and our mother alone.
Mom is already drinking, which doesn’t surprise me. I don’t even blame her—I’d love to be drunk for this—but I’m annoyed that she can’t stay sober to support me on this one single, awful day. Meanwhile, Vanessa is looking at me like she wants to burst into tears.
“Vanessa, you’ll ruin your make-up if you cry,” I chide her, although I feel the same.
“No use crying,” Mom says, raising her glass to us. “You’ll be stuck anyway. Can’t change ‘em. Can’t reason with ‘em. Just put up with it and spend all the money you can.”
I remember that Saint was trying to get into my father’s accounts, and I wonder if my mom knows any of the information about them. If she does, it could help us. I may not have those three assholes to help us get out of here, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to find a way to do it.
A part of me protests that it’s unrealistic and that I should give up now, but I can’t. I can’t give up hope, for fear of what it might do to me.
“Pavone isn’t as generous as Daddy with the money,” I tell her. “But that money is ours now, right?”
“Ours?” Mom laughs, like that’s hilarious. “Sure.”
I frown at her. “You know how to access it, don’t you? We can maybe figure something out…”
“I might know. Maybe.” She gets out of the armchair and smooths her dress one-handed, almost spilling her drink over it. “Not like I can actually get to any of it. Fucking offshore accounts.”
“As long as we have the passwords, though,” I hedge. “If we have money, we can pay somebody to help us disappear.”
Even Vanessa is starting to look hopeful. “We could move to another country, where Pavone has no influence at all.”
“What would I do in another country? I only speak English.” Eva takes a stumbling step toward the door. “Fuck, why are the floors so uneven?”
They aren’t. Even in my large wedding gown and in high heels, I don’t have as much trouble moving as my drunk mother.
I did purposefully pick a dress that wouldn’t constrict my movement too much. The veil is annoying, trailing behind me, but the gown isn’t tight, and the top isn’t too constricting. Delicate flowers and rhinestones decorate the entire dress and the bottom of the veil.
While Pavone didn’t like how much I’d spent on the evening dresses, he was more than happy to foot the bill for the “perfect” wedding dress.
Vanessa and my mother are in a light blue to match with the wedding’s design.
“Mom, we can learn other languages,” I say. “But if we’re in Argentina or Indonesia or Morocco, it’d be much harder for Pavone to track us down. They won’t care how we got our funds.”
“I’m not moving to a third world country,” Mom says, waving her hand around. This time the drink does spill, thankfully on the floor and not her dress. “Anyway, even if I do know the passwords… why would I share with you?”
I blink at her, truly taken aback by her words. “Why wouldn’t you?” I ask, bewildered. I exchange a look with Vanessa. “It would benefit all of us, and it’s not like it’s a small amount to share.”
“Emilio isn’t going to care aboutme,” she says. She takes another sip from her glass, and scowls when she realizes it’s empty. “I can leave as soon as this is all over. I think Giorgis had a vacation home on Maui. That’s mine now. I’ll go there. I didn’t put up with him for almost thirty years just to go into hiding because of his daughters.”
The words are so matter of fact that it’s like she’s forgotten we’reherdaughters too. Or maybe she just doesn’t care. I don’t know if it’s because she’s drunk or if this is the way she really feels, but it hurts more than I expected it to. I’ve never been close to our mother, but I wouldn’t have expected her to just abandon me to Pavone if there was a chance we could all break free.
“We’re your daughters too,” Vanessa says, echoing my thoughts. She looks even more hurt than I do, and I can see the tears welling up in her eyes. As hard as this is for me, it’s even harder for her.
