#3 Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mimi
“Sweet girl, look at you.” Grandma beams. She always acts like she hasn’t seen me in forever even if it was weeks since I last saw her.
In this instance it was just three weeks ago.
At the time she was hot on asking me who I was dating.
Because she was into her latest guy.
She cups my face, looks me over and sighs. My grandmother is seventy five but because of the amount of surgery she’s had on her face and her body she looks like she could be a good thirty years younger. And she dates as such too.
“Hi Grandma, are you okay?” I smile.
“All the better for seeing you sweet girl.” She bubbles, linking her arm with mine. “I made apple pie and I got you that breast cream I was telling you about.”
“What kind of cream is this? You didn’t tell me anything about breast cream.” I laugh.
“Oh shit, sorry dear. That was Maryanne. I’m supposed to tell you,” she shakes her head at herself.
Maryanne, my cousin is of the same man-hungry branch as grandma.
They’re the female equivalent of players. Mom wasn’t like them or like my aunt, Vanessa. We have it that the man craze skipped Mom and landed on me, and when they saw me with the Giordano boys they really believed they were all mine and had a hard time believing otherwise. They didn’t think a girl could be friends with that many guys.
I guess they were right though.
“So the cream is this miracle cream from Switzerland that makes your tits look firmer. If you start using it from now you’ll look like me with the surgery by the time you get to my age.” She points to her breasts and I try not to laugh. Then she wrinkles her nose and I think she’s supposed to be frowning but because of the amount of Botox she’s had in her face I can’t tell. “I would suggest you wash it off though before one of your boys comes around. The taste isn’t all that great.”
My poor skin is so used to her antics that I don’t even bother to blush anymore. God knows what she’s been up to.
“Okay, Grandma.” I laugh.
“It’s true, or if you are going to use it avoid the nipple area, but if your man likes to devour you then you know, you don’t want creams to put him off.”
“No not at all.”
She became like this after my grandfather died. He was a control freak who insisted that she wear dresses that covered her from head to toe, never wore makeup and never spoke to men. She doesn’t like talking about her years with him. Honestly I think it was an arranged marriage, but that was never confirmed. Grandfather died when I was ten, so two years before Mom died.
Grandma just went wild. He left her a fortune so she used it on us and herself. She took me to Disneyland for the whole summer and we pigged out.
“I got all the stuff ready for you so it’s all out in the attic. I think everything should be there. I dug deep.” She smiles but there’s a dimness in her expression.
She stops with me just by the stairs.
We spoke last night and I asked her if I could come around and get all Mom’s recipe books and the books with recipes the three of us put together.
They’re all here, volumes of them. History and memories of what used to be.
“Thanks so much. I appreciate it a lot.”
“I know you do. I’m so glad you’re finally doing this.” She was so excited when I told her about the restaurant.
“Thanks. I hope you can come by sometimes or even be part of it. That’s if you’re not off on some wild adventure with your princes.”All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
That’s what she calls them. She dates men who are under forty-five because she claims they have more stamina and the sex is better.
She laughs. “My girl I would be offended if you didn’t ask me. I’ll be there as often as you need me. I’d absolutely love to help.”
“Really?” I bubble.
“Yes, and as for princes, sweet girl, are you going to be bringing any of those handsome stud muffins around for dinner?”
I burst out laughing. “Grandma, no one says stud muffin anymore.”
“I do, so it’s still cool. The age of a word matters not. It’s who said it so if I say it, it’s still in.” She winks at me.
I like that. I like that and I wish I could be like that all the time.
“Okay, I’ll remember that.”
“So, men. Who’s coming to dinner?”
I pull in a breath and decide to tell her. “Maybe …Salvatore.”
She sucks in a sharp breath gasping. “Oh my gosh Mimi, you little devil. You kept that quiet and if I didn’t ask you wouldn’t have told me.” She pretends to pout.
“It’s kind of recent.”
“You and your boy are recent? Oh please.” She shakes her head at me. “I’m happy.”
“Well I’m glad you are. Dad’s not that fond of the idea”
I called him last night to try and talk but he was distant. I got the vibe that if I were a little younger he would have said more to me than he didn’t approve. He would have told me straight up to stop seeing Salvatore. Realistically though what else could not approving mean?
“Oh hell girl. Never mind what your father thinks.” She laughs. “I think he’d be like that with any guy. No one is good enough for his little girl. Plus do you really want a man your dad likes? Especially your father. He’s so boring.”
I laugh again. She always knows what to say to cheer me up.
“Go on upstairs, sort out the books you need and I’ll put on some dinner. You’re going to tell me everything.”
Oh God, maybe it would have been better for me to keep quiet about Salvatore. She’ll have me here all night talking if she can.
“Okay,” I beam, best to agree. I’m hoping to get stuck in the attic and then it will be so late I’ll have to eat and run. If memory serves me right there should be a lot of stuff to go through and we didn’t exactly pack things away in order.
“Have fun,” Grandma says.
I rush up the stairs to the attic. It’s usually quite organized up here with everything as neat and tidy as an attic could be but today I see I have my work cut out for me.
There are at least fifteen large boxes set out in the center of the room. I’m definitely going to be up here for a while. It was a good thing I didn’t come by yesterday because it was a work night. Sorting through the boxes won’t resemble anything close to quick and quite likely I’ll be up here having that dinner well into the night.
I tackle the first one and find all of Mom’s pastry recipes along with her European cuisines.
One hour later sees me with a stack of books to my left. I have over a hundred handwritten recipes and it makes me feel close to her.
Mom told me that cooking and creating recipes helped her while she was studying law. She went to Georgetown University. Cooking and law is an odd combination but it worked to calm her down.
The stuff in these boxes is very old. Some things are from when she was a little girl. Other stuff is from when she was closer to my age. There are private things like actual journals, so when I take a break from recipe hunting I decide to look through a journal with some stars on the front.
I never got to see any of this stuff when she died, plus I doubted that anyone would have wanted me looking through her private files.
This journal has a lot of details about her legal studies so I put it back in the box and pick up an old leather pouch. Inside is a letter addressed to My Love.
I pull out a photo of her kissing a man on his cheek. He’s holding her and she’s smiling. They’re standing by the beach.
At first I think he must be an old boyfriend then… a closer look at the man makes me freeze.
I’ve seen this man before.
I know him.
He was… the State’s Attorney. William Russo. Mom’s old boss.
I flick the picture over and see there’s some writing on the back :
Dear William,
Today was one of the best days I’ve spent with you.
It’s the only memory I have of us like this.
Us in love.
Please take this picture and remember me.
It breaks my heart to hurt you, especially after the plans we made today, but I can’t be with you anymore.
It’s too dangerous to keep seeing each other. You know the danger that exists. I can’t put my little girl at risk.
Adrian has files. Take them and be safe. Please.
I love you, always.
Yours Evangelina
A stone drops in the pit of my stomach from the words but my heart stops when I see the date mark on the little corner of the picture.
It’s June, 15, 2000.
That was the day before she died.