Note to self---Partying all night with your boyfriend the night before you have to drive out to North Jersey to apply make-up on a crazy bride and her twelve bridesmaids is not a good idea. Actually, it’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever had because now I’m running on no sleep and have to sit through Sunday dinner with my parents. Usually I look forward to Sunday’s. Mom goes all out on Sunday’s because it’s the only day of the week dad makes sure “business” doesn’t come first. You know there are no shakedowns or illegal gambling just some good old-fashioned family time at the Pastore house. You should know that I’m rolling my heavily lined eyes as I say this.
I don’t want to come off as if my family and I aren’t tight or that I don’t adore my father because that isn’t the case. I resent my father’s choices sometimes. You see it’s not easy growing up having your father’s picture plastered on the front page of the newspaper time after time. I was ten years old when I learned my father was the head of an organized crime family. On Career Day at school, I told everyone he was a business owner. Yeah the joke was on me. I probably would still think he was just a simple business owner of a few nightclubs had it not been for Mikey’s dad Uncle Val dying so brutally. After Val died, the cat was out of the bag. There was no denying who my father was.
My teenage years were extremely difficult. On top of the normal angst a teenage girl, goes through I had to deal with the backlash of who my father was. It was hard to make friends because most people my age only wanted to be friends with me out of fear. “Be nice to the gangster's daughter you never know when we might need to call in a favor.” Forget about having a boyfriend. There were two kinds of guys that I attracted. First, there were the ones that scared easily. They would pick me up for a date and if my dad or one of his goons looked at them funny that was that, they ran for the hills. The second was the guys who dated me because they thought my father was Jesus Christ re-incarnated. They worshiped him and figured dating daddy’s little girl gave them a foot in the door when it came to the glamorous life of the mob. Stupid fuckers what’s glamorous about the Fed’s raiding your house on Christmas morning? Or maybe the glamour part is when your dad’s best friend is killed and then the only true friend you and your sister ever had moves away because his mom can’t bear the sight of our family. Yeah, so fucking glamorous.
Even now at twenty years old, I find it hard to let people into my life. I want people to see me for me, not for who my father is. That’s why I’m lucky I met Rico. He loves me for who I am and not for what my father could maybe someday do for him. To be honest Rico doesn’t even seem to care who my father is. I think that’s the most attractive quality about him. He’s not intimidated by Victor Pastore not in the least. He’s a keeper in my book.
“Mom, I’m home!” I shouted as I entered the house. I kicked the door shut with the heel of my boot as I wheeled my traveling make-up case inside. I leaned it against the wall deciding to take it upstairs to my bedroom when I can feel my toes again. Another not so smart idea was wearing leather stiletto boots when it snows. My pinky toe may actually be frost bitten.
“We’re in here.” My sister called from the living room. Her voice sounding nasal as if she had been crying. I shook my head as I took my jacket off. I hated that my sister was in a fucked up relationship if one would even consider what they have a relationship. Adrianna’s ex-boyfriend Vinny is a douchebag. I will admit he had us all fooled for a while thinking he was a good guy. My parents, who are pretty old school even, accepted my sister’s unplanned pregnancy with open arms. It probably helped that Vinny promised my dad, he’d marry Adrianna once he passed his Series Seven. Yeah, big boy was studying to be a stockbroker only he got a little too acquainted with the nose candy and instead of becoming a licensed broker, he became a junkie whose biggest accomplishment is his stints in and out of rehab. The low-life isn’t even a father to my adorable nephew Luca. I wonder what the dick head did this time.
The first thing I noticed was that Adrianna wasn’t the only one crying our mom was too. I felt my pulse quicken as I looked back and forth between their grief-stricken faces. That’s another downfall to your father being a mobster. There is always that possibility that someone will clip him. Let’s be honest, my father is walking around with a big target on his back, which is attached to a pretty fat paycheck to whomever it is that finally takes him down. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen to…” My voice trailed off and I couldn’t continue with my question.