5

For the next three days, I pour myself into researchingeverything I can find on event planning and management. From papers, to journals and watching videos I find on the internet.

The week after that, I’d get up in the mornings, after my walk and breakfast. I continue studying from where I left off the day before in my balcony where I’ve set up my computer, some stationary I ordered from A****n and snacks. Taking notes and jotting things down, reading from ebooks. Its amazing how much you can learn online, everything you need is literally at your finger tips these days, it’s a wonder why people go t collages.

I suppose to earn a formal degree, but the internet is really informative.

Everyone imagined I would have moved on from the idea after a few days but I was determined to prove them wrong.

On the third week I found and registered for an online course.

I’d just round of with my studding for the day and on video call with my mama as I inform her on my doctors appointment earlier, she like to be kept up to date.

“When I carried Carlos, I was so big and quiet sick but it was nothing compared to when I was pregnant with his sister, same as when Beatrice carried you” mama hums her agreement. “There wasn’t a part of my skin that remained unblemished. It was terrible and took months to heal.”

It is not unheard of, this old wive’s tale of knowing the gender of the a baby from the physical reactions of pregnant women.

A boy baby pregnancy supposedly takes a less physical toll and is easier on the mother than a baby girl, my aunt swears by it. Saying before technology advanced, this is how expecting mothers confirmed the gender of their unborn babies.

My aunt continues as she squinted trying to get a better look at me from the camera. With a shake of her head and a shrug or her shoulders my aunt announces “you carry a boy, Lola, you’re positively glowing”

Mama beams, nodding her head with agreement from where she is sitting on the couch by her older sister.

Leaning back against my chair, I cross my arms over my bump“If I remember correctly you both said the same thing about aunty Sofia years ago when she carried her second baby, which turned out to be a girl”

My aunt frowns “That was only one time Lola, remember before you left for the boarding school, Greta got married, she just recently had her third child.”

“Yeah, I remember that” Mika, a third cousin on my father’s side, her father had married her to his recently widowed friend.

His friend and age.

It was a sad affair. At only eighteen to my fifteen, I thought her life was over. “Mama told me she had a girl the first time she came to visit”

“Hm mm. The second and third child are girls too, as you can imagine, Greta wasn’t pleased, it is said she could barely bring herself to look at the poor child”

Her third child in four years, “Well, shit”

“And her husband?” It is my understanding that men are often eager to have an heir to secure their line and position.

“The older he gets the more he looses his patience with her”

I scoffed, “Because it is her fault they have conceived girls? That’s not how biology works” I say aghast.

“Unfortunately some men refuse to accept the simple truth of the matter, my dear”

“The man has a son does he not?” At least from what I remembered.

“From his second wife, yes, but the boy is sickly. Aldo hopes he can get another and make him his heir” My aunt says.

“Even still, you can’t choose these things, I can understand her disappointment to an extent, but to neglect your own child?” My palm falls protectively over my belly “I don’t get that”

“She must think like most women, if she provides Aldo an heir, she would not have to suffer her husbands attention as much” Mama says softly.

There is that to consider, I cannot imagine an old man, one around my father’s age as my husband, touching me like that.

Life can be unfair.

Hopefully Greta can conceive a son soon.

Mama claps her hands, straightening her already straight posture. “It is our burden as women, to birth heirs and ensure the continuation of the bloodlines, weather it is our desire or not”

There is a moment of silence as I reflect on my mother’s words. Lots of women go through a lot to have children. Especially in the family. It is not just expected, it is mandatory.

The sooner the better.

I cannot imagine what it must be like for Greta, I cannot remember if she was the maternal kind, mostly quiet, preferring to burry her nose in a book than make trouble with the rest of us. 

“Be that as it may, I am very positive this time.” My aunt turns to me, you still have morning sickness?”

“Not at all” thank God for that.

Behind them I can see Davide, my aunty’s guard who helped them set up the call form their end standing at the door but out of hearing distance, not like he would concern himself about women gossip.

They both turn, exchanging a look.

“What?”

“Your aunty is right, you must be carrying a boy dear”

Two sisters, one light haired, one dark. My aunt Sara with her tart tongue and my mama, soft spoken and sweet. Their personalities couldn’t be further from the other, like water and oil, day and night.  it’s strange to see them agreeing on something.

“Or you could check and confirm”

“Not you too” I throw my hands up in exhaustion.

She is the only one who isn’t hassling me to check and hoping to the moon and back that the baby is a boy.

Her and Niko.

My aunty released a chuckle.

Surprisingly this has got to be the longest civil conversation I’ve had with my aunt. She’s just never had the patience to deal with me, always finding faults and pointing them out even as a child, I tend to avoid her.

It could be that now that I am growing up and becoming more responsible she finds me more agreeable.

“Enough about me though, how is home? Carlos?”

“He grows more comfortable in his position each day, thank goodness for your father and Giuseppe, helping him transition through the process. If only those old farts would come off it for a second, trying to push their ways and ideas.” My aunt says a curse word in Italian. “I keep saying he shouldn’t pay them any mind and go at his own pace”

 “For once I wished my late husband, rest his soul” she does a sigh of the cross, kissing her thumb and index finger “was more strict with him and now he is gone, my poor boy has to fund for himself amongst those vultures”

“While this is sound advice, there are rules, and Carlos is still young, I am sure he will find his way” I say to console my aunt. Having lost her husband only months ago and now have to deal with so many political attacks on her only son.

There was also another loss, my aunt doesn’t speak of him though. I don’t know what my mama told her, Alonzo was buried in the family crypt in the Cancio manor with the rest of the family and that was the end of it.

I try not to think about it.

“Maybe a truce with one of the powerful families would calm things down.” I suggest.

“We are at a standstill, those hungry for power watching his every move, and the others seem to be unconcerned, peheros you could talk to Niko about it, to assist us find a good match for your cousin” ah… there it is, her reason for being cordial with me, I try not to smile.

“I thought you already decided on a match for her, before…” before Manuel passed away.

“We did, now they think to change the terms,” my aunt spits in annoyance

I scoffed, now that Manuel Cancio is no more you can always trust the men of La famiglia to reach for more that was agreed. “What are they saying?”

“Two weddings instead of one” mama whispered when my aunty remains quiet in anger as though the thought of it makes her want to break something.

I blink in realization “Carlos?”

“They want to wed him to the Rizzo girl,  over my dead body will that happen, I already agree to give my daughter to that family, they won’t take my son”

Mama says more to her sister than to me “Giuseppe thinks it is a good way to secure their full support, with the Rizzo the others will follow”