Ren:
Enzo:Vicky, you’re so dead.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I walked back to the market, satisfied and deliriously happy. While browsing Sofia’s IG the night before, I got an idea from her posts. Luke, Miles, and their whole family loved the beach as evidenced by multiple posts I’d seen.
I wandered through the market, sampling everything from vegancookies to matcha tea. When I passed a tent run by a local artisan, I knew exactly what to get for Miles and MJ. Moving past other customers milling about in the small space, I was amazed by the craftsmanship of the wooden pieces. As my fingers brushed over the golden-brown pieces, interwoven with multi-colored resin and sand, it reminded me of the olive tree at home.
“It’s olive wood. Our family has a connection with the owners of an olive grove in Temecula,” said a portly woman with bleached blonde hair and a smile that conveyed pride in her work. Her words confirmed my suspicions about the wood’s origin and the love of the craft that was so clearly evident.
“They’re beautiful. I love the shades of blue like the ocean and the gold streak—stunning. I’m looking for a housewarming gift, and this piece would be perfect. I’ll take it,” I said with a smile.
“It’s one of my favorites. Almost hard to part with it because it’s one-of-a-kind. No attempt to recreate one for myself has succeeded,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s my homage to kintsugi. The wood cracked unexpectedly while I was working with it, and I tried to piece it back together with resin and golden metal powder. Came out more beautiful than I expected.”
The term brought to mind a visit to Alex and Aria’s home in Positano, where she carefully showed me a bowl with a gold vein when I asked about it. It was a Japanese art form called kintsugi, which literally means “golden joinery.” Her tearful story about Alex taking her to a class where she made the bowl while they were dating, to show how God can create beauty from broken pieces, deeply moved me.
“I’m honored even more to be the one to have it. Thank you so much,” I answered after she wrapped it in tissue paper and placed it in a gift bag for me.
“Corinna, are you sure about this?” I hissed in the dressing room of a local boutique. Her fiery-red hair was in a long braid behind her as she laughed at my reaction.
“You look like a goddess, Vicky,” she assured me as I turned around in the small space. I’d brought a few outfits in with me for her to see on our video call. The dress in question was a white corset-style sundress with a cheerful lemon print and tiny green leaves, and I had to admit that I felt pretty good in it.
When I turned away from the mirror to check behind me and make sure my ample hips weren’t making it lift oddly in the back, Imumbled, “I don’t know. It might be too much for a simple house party.”
“Girl, that dress does wonders for your…assets,” she said, winking at me conspiratorially.
“C-o-r-i-n-n-a,” I yelled, accentuating every letter. There was no hiding my blush. When the store attendant knocked and asked if I was okay, I wheezed out a quick “sorry, yes I’m fine.”
Cackling again, my sister-in-law answered, “Vicky, if I had your curves, I’d be showing them off too.”
“Pfft. I’d trade with you any day.” My words always drew the same furrowed and frustrated look whenever I mentioned my dislike for my…assets.
“You’re lucky I’m not nearby to give you a good throttle.” Her stern words softened in her next words. “I hate when you talk about yourself that way. You’re my sister now, something I always wanted. Do you really not see what I do?”
“See what, sister? Rolls, cellulite? A body that doesn’t fit any of the cuter styles? Do you know how hard it is to feel like you don’t fit in? I’ve been bigger than my friends and schoolmates since elementary school.”
My voice was low, my words stuttering from me in a flow I couldn’t stop. Taking a breath, I whispered, “No matter what I do, don’t do, eat or don’t eat. Or how much I exercise, I can’t, I can’t seem to be…”
My words halted as I sat down on the tiny bench wedged in the corner, my chest heaving with the weight of the emotions pouring out of me. I hung my head and stared at my feet to avoid the full-length mirror mocking me as I held back tears.
Corinna’s expression had softened from her earlier chastisement, and her bright eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“You can’t seem to be what, Vicky?” she whispered.
On a sob, I answered, “Normal.”
“Oh,Vicky.” Her soft words broke the last vestige of control that held back the dam of tears. Muffling them as best I could in such a public place, I let them go as she spoke words of comfort and love over and over until finally the tears ceased, leaving me feeling oddly calmer.
She looked behind her before moving to her bedroom and closing the door with a soft click, no doubt making sure my brother was still out of sight.
“Vicky, my sweet, beautiful girl. First of all, you havegotto stop equating outward beauty with worth. There is beauty in every single woman, and very little of it has anything to do with the size of her clothes or the number on a scale.”
Her soft words made me hiccup and wipe the last of my tears away as our eyes met. She had never been this forceful before, and her words hit a sore spot that lived in my heart for as long as I could remember.
“I know your brother and your amazing mama so I’m sure this hasn’t come from them.” I was vehemently shaking my head, confirming her words.
“So, where is this coming from? Tell me?”
I huffed out a humorless laugh. “Everyone else. Society. Magazines, movies. Men who look over me like I’m invisible. People who sneer at me when I’m eating at a restaurant.”
