Loving DeMarco

1: Gaia -Getting Ready-

I had just finished putting my hair into a neatly braided updo, when my sister Serafina came bursting into my bedroom and threw herself on my bed dramatically. “I Wish I could just stay home tonight instead of going to the party” she groaned. “And miss out on all those handsome men in their expensive, custom-tailored Italian suits, yeah right” Nerina said shaking her thick, curly capelli rossi as she pranced straight into my room as if she was already at the party herself.

“You know I hate being put on display, and I absolutely hate wearing heels that I can’t even walk in, let alone run…you know, just in case I should need to make a sudden exit in order to avoid small talk. Ugh, it’s just all too exhausting!” Serafina said theatrically, as if she were in literal agony. I sit quietly and just stare blankly at my sister, Serafina, who is only a year younger than myself, because I must hear this same speech each time about how she detests social events or how our family occasionally hosts one. “You have to come!” I begged. “And why is that?” Serafina asked smugly. “Because if you don’t, who’s going to keep me company and shoo away all the unwanted predators?” I replied. “Gaia, you’ll be fine. You’ll have Ondina, Cosmia, and Nerina to keep you company.” I knew I had to try something more convincing to make her change her mind; time for those puppy dog eyes she couldn’t resist. “Yes, but it’s not the same without you; I need ALL of my sisters with me. Like dad always says, ‘tutto per la famigla, Everything for family.’” Both Serafina and Nerina burst out laughing because they knew I had won.

“All riiiight, I’ll go, but only if you stop making that stupid face. Seriously, you’ll give me nightmares for like a week straight.” Serafina said playfully laughing. I throw the closest thing to me, which happens to be my makeup sponge. We started to laugh in unison until our two younger sisters, Ondina and Cosmia, appeared in the entrance of the door giving us quizzical looks. “Why are you laughing?” Ondina asked, staring at her twin sister Nerina. “No reason” I said, looking at my sixteen-year-old sister whose hair was in two ponytails hanging near both cheeks of her face. Ondina's hair has always been lighter than the rest of ours, making her appear to be more of a “true” ginger.

“Girls, are you up there?” Mama shouts from downstairs. “Yes, mama” Dina responds. “Well, it's time to go. The car is here.” We all ran down the stairs laughing and playing, and aligned ourselves at the bottom of the large, winding stairwell. Each sister dressed uniquely elegant in a way that expressed our individual personalities. This was the part where mama examines us to make sure we are presentable enough to leave the house. She looks us over individually, while Matteo, our five year old brother, runs back and forth in the foyer. He only enjoys these events for the endless desserts he and the other children hoard while their nannies aren’t looking. Just then, our father enters the room, facing down toward his phone, and completely unaware of our presence. Without even lifting his head, he calls out for my mother, telling her it's time to leave. But as soon as he raised his head and realized that mama was standing right in front of him, he froze instantly. He gazed at her, in awe of her beauty.

Our mother was wearing a seductively fitted crimson dress, that elegantly accentuated her curves. I can see the love, and possessiveness, in my father's hazel grey eyes anytime he looked at ma. “Zaharina, mio amore, you look absolutely breathtaking.” We can see our mother’s cheeks become flushed by the compliment. This sparks curiosity in me, because my father, for as long as I could remember, has always said these kinds of poetic things to ma, and even after all these years of marriage it still makes her blush. I suppose that is true love. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately as if they were alone. The kind of kiss one only sees in exaggerated romance movies. As I witness the love that my parents have for one another, I always pray that someday I will experience the same kind of love with my one and only, whoever he is.

As we delicately trotted towards our freshly washed and pristinely waxed cars that father recently purchased, my mother gives us the usual etiquette speech about being on our best behaviors and not to embarrass the family. We all knew that she was not so subtly referring to Serafina’s obvious uninterest in aristocratic gatherings, and Nerina’s childish and overtly flirtatious personality. The two could not be more opposite as sisters.

We finally arrived at an extravagant palazzo Italiano where we could see other guests arriving and entering in as well. There were valets and doormen, too many to count. I could tell the owner of this mansion was far wealthier than our own dear father. The gorgeous estate sat upon a hill overlooking Boccadasse Beach, a different, more luxurious area of Italy than where we live in Portofino.