MY HEART BEGS TO DIFFER
FRANKIE
Dad is smiling so big and so proud it’s impossible to yell at him, which is all I actually want to do. But that smile… he’s so happy. And Adelaide looks positively joyful and glowing, which I’m surprised I missed before.
“We didn’t not tell you on purpose,” Adelaide says as we all sit on the private terrace off their hotel suite. There’s fruit and croissants and carafes of coffee and herbal tea in front of us, but I’m not touching any of it. Neither is Lucia. “Your dad thought it best you both focus on the season, because there’s so much at stake for you both.”
“You can frame it however you want, Adelaide. But this is a family matter, a big one that affects our entire lives, and keeping it from us for any reason is just a lame excuse,” Lucia replies and turns to our dad. “Is this why you retired?”
“Partly, yes,” Dad says and stirs a heaping spoonful of sugar into his coffee. “I didn’t get to spend as much time with you girls as I wished I had, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake with this one.”
Adelaide smiles and gently places a hand on the back of his neck. Holy shit… she might actually love him. I feel like I’m spinning through the Twilight Zone because I’ve never let myself think that this was truly real. I thought I knew her too well because after all, I used to model with Adelaide. She never, in all our time together, acted like she wanted anything more than a glass of fine champagne and someone else to pay for it. Love? Kids? Thoughts on those things were never expressed by her.
“To be fair, Louie, we also wanted to make sure this one stuck around before we announced,” Dad says, using the nickname he bestowed Lucia when she was a little girl. His eyes grow dark, as does the expression on Adelaide’s pretty features, and my heart clenches.
“We had a miscarriage before this,” Adelaide confesses. “So we’re tentative.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out and I mean it. She gives me a soft smile. I blink, trying to wade my way through all of the information and emotions that are swirling through my brain. “I love you Dad, but… you’re—”
“Old,” he finishes for me. “Honey, fifty is not old and I intend to remind you of the hassle you keep giving me when you turn it. Anyway, Adelaide is young, and healthy and full of love. If this baby may one day have to be raised by just her, so what? You two were raised by a single parent and you both turned out spectacular.”
“And, in case the concern is for more than his health, the baby gets nothing of Mirabella Racing when your father passes. That’s solely for you two to do with as you wish,” Adelaide explains. There’s no venom in her voice, or annoyance.
Lucia voices my thoughts, loud and clear. “You actually fucking love him?”
“Oh for God’s sake, Lucia, you really didn’t believe that until now?” Dad barks, and he’s uncharacteristically angry. It’s probably, rightfully, fueled by hurt. “You have such little respect for me that you think I wouldn’t see through her if there was anything less than love between us?”
“No, Dad, that’s not what I thought.” Lucia stands up. “Men just as strong and brilliant as you have lost their common sense due to loneliness and a tight piece of ass.”
“Lucia!”
“It’s fine. She called my ass tight,” Adelaide tries to joke, but the fury in my dad’s eyes will not be easily quelled.
“I’m sorry Adelaide, but you were a party girl model with a bankrupt family,” Lucia doubles down, and the rage brewing in my father reddens his cheeks. “He’s about to be a senior citizen with a bank account and legacy worth millions. You have to know how that looked. How this baby will look.”
“I do know. I just don’t care,” Adelaide counters and still, there’s no malice in her voice. “I think you would be a better driver too, Lucia, if you stopped caring how everything looked and just went for it. You stress and worry about the weight of being the first female driver about to crack F1. Fuck the haters who think you’re only there because your daddy owns the team. Screw the way it looks.”
“I do not need racing advice from you,” Lucia seethes and stands up.
Dad stands up too. “What you need is a lesson in manners and respect.”
“Then I guess you didn’t do such a good job raising me after all, huh?” Lucia snaps back and I feel my stomach drop.
“Lucia. Enough,” I warn, but I don’t know if she hears me, because she’s halfway out of the suite.
Dad storms out after her. I want to chase them both and play referee, a job I’ve had my whole life, especially since my mom passed. But as I stand up, Adelaide reaches across the table and puts a hand on mine, freezing me in my tracks. “Let them work this out on their own. You have enough on your plate.”
“I appreciate the idea, but honestly Ade, I don’t need your input here,” I pull my hand away but what she says next stops me in my tracks.
“I’m part of this family now too, Frankie,” she announces, firmly. “I’ve been quiet and bowed out of most discussions that involved you, your sister, and your father, but that was a grace period. I was giving you time to adapt. Now I’ll be speaking up for me and for this bambino.”
“Since we’re being honest, I don’t agree with the blunt force my sister uses when she speaks, but I don’t disagree with her opinions,” I tell her. “I knew you Adelaide. You were not interested in a long-term anything.”
“I wanted love,” Adelaide replies. “I had a pretty face and not much else. Lucia isn’t wrong, my dad notoriously gambled away my family’s money. I couldn’t even afford the shared flat in London that I was living in when you met me if I hadn’t been giving the landlord blow jobs a couple times a week.”
I cringe but she doesn’t. “Your dad knows about it. He knows it all. And he loves me anyway. Did I expect to fall in love with your dad? No. When I met him I just saw a charming, handsome dad of a friend. Someone who might bank roll a few rounds of drinks or a vacation if I stayed close to you. But then he asked me out, and I said yes because of the way you had always talked about him. You made him out to be this perfect man, and guess what? You were right. Even I wasn’t stupid enough to pass that up.”
I stare at her. My heart is hammering in my chest. I want to hate this… her… but as always, I don’t. And now, I also don’t feel angst about that. She really does love my father and as her hands rub her tiny belly, I let my thoughts jump to the idea that I’m going to be a big sister again. It’s not an unpleasant thought. “It’s going well this time?”
