She already is.
Mine.
She has been since the beginning.
Today, I'm just making it official and legal.
Chapter Forty-One
LOLA
Eliza screamsher pretty head off, pure Marino fire, ego, and stubbornness. She's barely over one, and she's got the Italian drama down pat.
Aunt Lyndall tries to feed my very upset, very overstimulated child puréed fruit. "Oh, come on, Eliza Squish. It's your favorite. Blueberries."
Eliza screams louder, then clamps her mouth shut and turns her head, her body going stiff as she acts like the purée is poison.
Thing is, I'm not sure why she's refusing to eat since she's clearly hungry.
Too much excitement, maybe.
But I know everyone is trying their best to get her to calm down and enjoy the rest of the day.
Her grandpa fed her breakfast, but she didn't eat all of that either. She was too busy trying to follow the people coming and going and setting things up.
I say "try" because every time she attempts to take a wobbly step, having to hold onto something or someone, her chubby legs get tangled as she tries to go in every direction atonce. This means she is down on her cute butt more often than not.
Mind you, she is very determined to be a part of everything, even if she can't really walk or speak. But...she tries.
The screams and tears don't stop until Uncle Jack spins her around like an airplane, and Grandpa Mario scoops her up and tries feeding her again.
Of course, the flowers and balloons are mesmerizing, and the idea of food drops to last on her list.
Violet takes her once more and tries to talk to Eliza while Ruby makes funny faces.
But Eliza isn't having it.
As if I need the added stress.
In no time at all, I'm meant to be walking down the aisle.
We decided to have our wedding in one of the properties. The garden was transformed, an aisle was added just for today, and the designers have turned the whole place into a pale cream and faint blush pink fairyland.
I'd have been happy at City Hall, but Enzo pointed out that no one else would be. And this wasn't about us, it was about everyone else.
That made no sense until he whispered, "The party and ceremony are for them. The after is all about us."
And I can't wait.
But first, my little Squish has to eat something so she can calm down a bit.
Ready to walk down the aisle in my wedding dress, fully prepped, I bend down to my daughter in her highchair with the seatbelt. "Hey, Squish."
I unbuckle her and go to pick her up.
Lyndall reaches for us. "Lola. Wait?—"
I hold my baby in my arms.
