When I stepped into the apartment that Dad had rented for us, my heart did a little jump. It was near the Jardin de Trocadero and had a partial view of the Eiffel Tower from the small balcony with its iron banisters and flower pots. A small round metal table and two very uncomfortable matching chairs filled the space. I couldn抰 wait to have breakfast there.
It was a two-bedroom place with high ceilings and old wooden floors. The interior was a mix of a few old art nouveau pieces and modern French furniture from Roche Bobois.
I was in heaven. I hugged Mom tightly, completely overwhelmed. 揑t抯 perfect!?
揧our dad and I picked it together.?
揑 wish Dad could be here now.?
揥e抣l all come to visit you over Easter, Anna.?
That was still two months away. I bit my lip. 揑 hope nothing happens that抣l force Dad to stay in Chicago.?Dad was dutiful and wouldn抰 leave his men to deal with problems alone if something major happened. But he抎 never missed one of our family holidays, not birthdays, Christmas, or Easter. And I really hoped this time would be no different.
I glanced over my shoulder at Santino who lounged on the colorful sofa. With his sour expression, he looked out of place amid the red and orange and yellow of the Missoni fabric of the Roche Bobois sofa. His arms were stretched out on the backrest and his legs parted in his usual bad boy man-spread way. He slanted me a look, his expression unmoving.
揧ou can pick a room,?I told him.
He pushed to his feet without a word and checked the two bedrooms. Even the cold shoulder treatment from him was hot.
Mom touched my shoulder and I met her gaze. 揑 still worry about you being all by yourself in this place.?
揑 have Santino.?
Mom抯 lips pursed. 揥ith a grown man under the same roof棓
揗om, now you sound like Grandmother.?Dad抯 mom was ancient and so were her views.
揑抦 worried about you.?
揑 can handle myself. I have been alone with Santino before and he抯 such a dutiful killjoy, you really don抰 have to worry of me having too much fun. He抣l prevent it, trust me.?
Mom laughed, looking entirely too happy about that. 揧our dad will be very pleased.?
揑抦 sure he had a conversation with Santino before we left Chicago.?
揙f course.?
I shook my head.
Santino came back out of the bedroom to the left and closer to the entrance door. 揑抣l take this one.?
I strode into the other bedroom. It didn抰 have a view of the Eiffel Tower like the living room, only at the facade of the houses across the street but I still loved the room for its chic coziness.
Then something registered on me. 揥here抯 the bathroom??
揑n Europe, en suite bathrooms aren抰 common, especially in older buildings. There抯 only one shared bathroom.?
Santino would hate it, and I wasn抰 quite sure I enjoyed the shared toilet situation. Santino and I weren抰 at a point in our relationship where I wanted him to know I had any kind of body functions. Yet, the shared bathroom offered many opportunities for 揳ccidental?nudity.
The idea of catching Santino under the shower was definitely pleasant.
Mom and I would share my queen-sized bed for the week that she was going to be in Paris. I still had three weeks before the first introductory courses would begin, which was perfect to get acclimated and get used to speaking French. My practical skills were a bit rusty.
I thoroughly enjoyed the days with Mom. Since Bea had been born, I抎 very rarely had her completely to myself, so going shopping on the Avenue des Champs-蒷ys閑s together and sightseeing every beautiful corner of Paris proved to be a wonderful experience. Santino managed to fade into the background, giving us space while keeping a close eye on us, and I really appreciated his ability to gift us with a feeling of normalcy.
I felt already freer than I ever had in Chicago. In Paris, nobody knew us and with Santino抯 discreet way of watching us, nobody even knew we were guarded.
On our last evening together before Mom would return to Chicago, she and I leaned against the headboard of my bed, talking for a long time. I rested my head on her shoulder, soaking in her comforting scent. 揇o you ever miss the days when you were younger and not a Capo抯 wife? Everyone抯 attention is always on you.?
Mom didn抰 answer right away. 揈ven before I married your dad, I was being judged and had a certain level of attention on myself due to my backstory. But of course, being a Cavallaro multiplies the pressure. I suppose for me what helped braving the pressure of the outside world was your father抯 support. I knew he had my back and in private I could be myself, without the pressure of expectations. Our family gave me the necessary cushion to fall on.?
I nodded because that抯 how I felt about our family as well. 揑 hope Clifford will have my back.?