Salvatore

3. I'm NOT pregnant omg guys

I normally forget that my mom has a slight New Jersey accent until she talks on the phone with her sister and it comes out in full force.

Mom comes from a long line of New Jersey Italians which isn't quite the same as being Italian Italian. The thing is, mom only lived in New Jersey until she was like six, then they lived in Maine (which is where she eventually met my dad). Because of that, her accent is faint.

My Aunt Lisa on the other hand. Oh boy. Her accent is thick. That's probably because she moved back to Jersey for college and she met my Uncle Donnie, and she still lives there to this day. She's actually a hairstylist and does makeup on the side, and she's really good at her job. Like her salon that she owns is always booked and full. I've literally never had my hair cut by anyone else.

I pretend to fold my clothes as I eavesdrop on my mom and her phone call. Currently, they're discussing my grandma's potential new man. From what I'm getting from this, they are not happy that Grammy is out there dating so soon after their fathers death.

I feel the need to speak up to defend Grammy, 'cause she's my girl. "You do realize Pop Pop died like eight years ago right?"

Mom shoots daggers at me with her eyes before going back to her conversation with Aunt Lisa.

I pretend to fold my clothes but keep listening. The thing is, I know for a fact my Grammy has a new man because she told me and my cousins about him a few months ago when we went to visit her in Palm Springs. His name is Timothy Kim and he likes to garden.

I'm not as close to my cousins on my moms side but I think that's based on the fact that growing up, we lived in Montana and they lived in New Jersey so we only saw each when they'd come to visit. We were friendly and we'd be bonded for those few days they'd be there and I'd be so excited to have other girls around, and then they'd leave and we wouldn't really talk until the next time we saw each other

At least now we see them every month and we're much closer. My older cousin Isabella is an influencer and always asks me if I want the stuff that gets sent to her as PR. Meanwhile my younger cousin Anna-Sophia is the opposite of Isabella. She's extremely gifted, I mean like her MENSA scores are through the roof. She has a full scholarship to Columbia at fifteen. I am unashamed to admit that I've called her crying multiple times to get help in math. We send each other memes and like the same books.

Mom looks over at me and I mouth "tell her" to her. She's like, "gimme a minute." She keeps going on talking about other things, so I make my way over to the kitchen and stand right behind her, startling her.

Finally, she says, "Lisa I'm puttin' you on speaker, Marty's here and we gotta talk to you about something."

"Hi Aunt Lisa," I say.

"Hey honey, how's it going?"

"It's good, all good." I pick at my chipping nail polish. "I was wondering if you'd be able to do my hair and makeup for an event."

"Of course hon-ANNA-SOPHIA DO NOT WALK ON THOSE FLOORS I JUST MOPPED THE KITCHEN, JESUS."

I wince as she yells at Anna-Sophia. Finally she gets back on the phone sounding frazzled. I can imagine her pushing her hair out of her face. "Sorry hon, you were saying somethin' about an event?"

"Yeah.." I trail off and look at mom, unsure how to continue. Mercifully, she jumps in.

"Yeah she needs hair and makeup for her wedding."

Aunt Lisa is dead silent on the other end for a solid thirty seconds. Mom and I look at each other. "I'm sorry Daniella, but did you say her wedding? I just did her prom look a few weeks ag-"

"And I looked great," I interrupt. "Everyone was complimenting me all night, that's why I want you to do my wedding makeup."

She ignores me, "Daniella, what are you thinking letting her get married at eighteen? Dear God, is she pregnant? Are you pregnant Martina?"

"Who's pregnant?" I hear on Aunt Lisa's end. I'm assuming it's Isabella since she's the nosier of the two sisters.

"Marty maybe," Aunt Lisa says.

"What the hell? Marty aren't you like sixteen?" Isabella shrieks. "I didn't know you had a man?"

"I don't think she does, she went to prom with that lanky looking kid, I can't believe he knocked her up, I didn't think he had it in him."

"Marty's pregnant?" Another voice perks up. It can only be Anna-Sophia. "What the hell? I thought you wanted to beat teen pregnancy?"

"No one is pregnant!" I shout, interrupting their theories, throwing my hands up in annoyance. "Jeez, why does everyone keep thinking that?"

Mom just looks at me and starts chopping up lettuce. What should I say? I mouth.

Mom shrugs, I don't know, she mouths back.

"Why else would someone get married at eighteen?" Isabella asks.

I consider how to proceed. Mom's family knows nothing about the mafia stuff and I don't know if the business arrangement excuse will work on them meaning I need something new. Since I am insanely delusional, I am pretty good at making up stories.

"Well I'm actually marrying a guy who's in critical condition and is in the last stages of his life due to his sickness. And like, his dream was to get married but he's around my age so he knows that won't happen and he just wants to live life to the fullest while he's still here, and his story just touched my heart so I agreed to marry him."

Miraculously they seem to buy it. Sort of.

Anna-Sophia scoffs. "You're like a book character," and then she's shooed away by her mom.

"Aw Marty, that's so sweet of you to do, but what are you getting out of this?" Aunt Lisa asks.

"Can't I just be doing this from the good of my heart?" I ask.

I can picture Aunt Lisa raising a brow at me. "Hon, let's be real here, you wouldn't do this just for funsies."

She's right, obviously. "Fine," I concede. "He's crazy rich and said I'll inherit after he kicks the bucket since he doesn't want his family to get anything." (not totally a lie).

"There's the Martina we know," Aunt Lisa says. "But hon, if you want riches, why don't you just get a sugar daddy?"

"That's true," Isabella jumps in. "My friend has one and she just got a Hermes Kelly bag last week."

"Who? Aleksia?" Aunt Lisa questions.

"Guys," I interrupt before they go way off. "Are you coming to my wedding, yes or no?"

"Of course we are," Aunt Lisa says huffily. "What type of Aunt wouldn't go to her only niece-"

Isabella jumps in, "oh this is kinda weird, but a brand sent me lingerie as PR but I don't want or need it and it's the wrong size so let me know if you need it for your wedding night or something."

My cheeks blaze. Horrified, I look at my mom. Luckily before we have to say anything, Aunt Lisa starts yelling at her saying that I'm a child and all that.

Isabella yells out, "What? I'm saving her money? There's no point spending tons of money on wedding lingerie when it's gonna come off anyways!"

There's the sound of something being whacked and then an OW. Mom and I hold back laughter as we listen to their fight.

Ultimately, Aunt Lisa agrees to do my hair and makeup for my wedding, and I ask Isabella and Anna-Sophia if they want to be bridesmaids, but they decline. Anna-Sophia because she doesn't want to stand for so long (valid) and Isabella because "someone needs to get personal wedding content for you so you have candids on your phone" (also valid).