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But I’m not Emilia, I want to shout. But I know it would be futile. When Mom sets her mind to something, that’s usually it.
“I would like it if Antonio came with us,” Mom says to Franco, clearing her plate in the sink.
“No. The boy will stay here. We can work on his drills.”
Mom makes a face but doesn’t say anything. Antonio always returns with bruises after Franco walks him through “drills,” whatever the fuck that means. I assume it’s just fighting and gun skills, teaching Antonio how to be a good leader once he takes over. That’s the plan, anyway. Once Antonio becomes eighteen, he’s supposed to take over as our father wanted. Franco is just a temporary leader. Though, knowing Franco, I don’t think he’ll want to give up power that easily.
“All right,” she says wearily. “Let’s go, girls.” She ushers Cecilia, Mia, and me toward the door while she grabs Lucia. “Gemma, put Luca in his carrier for me.”
I pick up Luca, who stares back with big brown baby eyes. Ok, he’s pretty cute, but God, is he needy. I guess all babies are, but that doesn’t make them any easier to deal with.
After the twins are in their seats and we’re all in the car, Mom pauses. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”
I look around the car from my spot in the driver’s seat. Since Mom can’t drive, it’s up to me to do it. “Shoot. We left Francesca.”
Mom sighs, her head hitting the window. “Go get her for me, Gemma.”
And once again, it’s up to me. I roll my eyes as I walk inside and tell Francesca we’re going to the mall. She sets down her book on Roman architecture. “Do I have to go?”
“If all of us girls are going, that includes you. You know I’m not fighting with you about this. You either come with me, or I’m dragging you out to the car. I won’t have Mom biting my head off over this.”
Fortunately, Francesca doesn’t put up a fight, and once we’re all in the car, I drive to the mall. I try to avoid New York traffic as much as possible, but that’s impossible. So, it takes us around an hour to reach the mall, irritating me further.
Mom makes me carry Lucia while she takes Luca, and Mia and Cecilia run ahead, heading into a shop whose window features full length gowns covered in sparkles. Theyoohandaweover the dresses. Francesca wanders off by herself, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. That’s one thing Francesca and I have in common.
“Mom, do I have to hold her?” I jiggle Lucia in my arms, making her giggle. “It’s kind of hard to look at dresses with my hands full.”
“Who else is here? Your sisters are too young.” Of course, Mom looks effortless, holding Luca with one arm while her other hand reaches out to flip through dresses.
“Uh, Francesca is sixteen. She’s more than old enough to old a baby.”
“Oh, I forget about her.”What’s new?“I’d rather you just hold her.”
I sigh and turn to the rack of dresses in front of me. “You gonna help me?” I ask Lucia, who just burps. “Right. Didn’t think so.”
It takes me a while, but I eventually find a dress I love. It’s black and slinky. Perfect. But when Mom sees it, her eyes bulge. “Gemma, no. Choose something else like … this.” She shoves a dress into my free hand. It’s pink and sparkly.
I hand it back. “No. It’s my party. My dress. You said I could choose.”
“I know, but … that?” She makes a face at my dress selection. “It’s just so, so, so …”
“Great?”
“I was going to say mature.”
“Mom, you’re trying to marry me off. Shouldn’t I appear mature? Who wants a little girl for a bride?”
She sighs. “You’re right. Try it on. Maybe I’ll change my mind.”
The one nice thing about trying on dresses is that Mom takes Lucia from me, leaving me sans baby. I change into my black dress, feeling free for just a moment.
That’s what I really want—freedom. Emilia was ok with marrying a man she’d never met because she knew her duty was to us, her family.
But I don’t feel that same kind of duty. All I want is freedom, the ability to go where I want, when I want, and do what I want. Even wear what I want without my mom questioning every decision I make.
Looking at the dress, I know it’s me to a “T.” It hugs me in all the right places and makes me look more like a woman in her twenties rather than a child bride.
The only nice thing my mom is giving to me is letting me meet multiple men before deciding who to marry. Emilia never got that choice.
