Rightfully His

.03

All rights reserved...@brightlights101

When Andrea arrived home late at 4:45 in the morning after passing out in the parking lot of her local grocery store, she went back to sleep and woke up three hours later to beat her dad before he went to clean up the store to give him the money she made at the club. All nine thousand dollars of it.

"Tesoro," Sweetheart. "What are you doing up so early?" Her father asks as she enters the home with a messy bun and blue eye bags and a pale face.

"To give you this," she hands him an envelope with her cash.

He takes the thick envelope with furrowed eyebrows and opens it to see the wads of cash.

"No," he immediately says, shoving it back her way.

"Papa, I will not take it back. You need it more than me. We are not going to give up our restaurant."

"Who said anything about giving up the restaurant?" He questions.

"Papa, I know times have been tough. And I might've over heard you and mama talking about it yesterday in the bathroom," and before her father could lecture her about ease dropping she continues. "I will not let you sink, papa. Like you won't let us sink either. Just take it, please."

He looks back at the money, feeling like he was a complete failure for taking handouts from his own child. But he closes the envelope and puts it on the inside of his jacket.

He brings her in for a long, passionate, thankful hug. "Ti amo piu di quanto le parole possano descrivere." I love you more than words could ever describe.

"Anch'io ti voglio bene, papa." I love you too, papa.

Andrea went back home and slept for another five hours, waking her up at 11:00a.m. She knew that if she woke up at twelve her mother would be madder than a bull.

Andrea goes over to her eldest brothers, Edmundo's house that was literally next door. With him at work it left Gia and their five children inside.

She knocks on the door as a curtesy.

Franco, their third youngest child, opens the door with his blanket in his hand.

"Hi, Franco, where's your mama?"

Without a single word, Franco takes his aunts hand and takes her to the kitchen where Gia was hunched over the stove cooking lunch for her kids who were outside playing. Franco was always a mama's boy and stayed wherever she was.

"Mama," Franco tugs on her apron. "C'e zia Andrea." Auntie Andrea is here.

Gia whips around at the words of her son. "Andrea!" she exclaims. "What brings you here?"

Before Andrea could answer, Gia continues with, "did you want to see, Maria?" Maria was their youngest at only 9 months old. "Well, she just went down for her afternoon nap."

"Oh no, I just came by to hangout for a bit if that is okay."

"Of course, you know you are always welcomed! The kids love you."

Taking Franco's hand she tells him, "come on, Franco. Let's go play with your siblings. I think mama needs to focus on your guys lunch. You don't want mama to burn the risotto, do you?"

"No, no, no," he panic drags his aunt outside. Franco loved risotto. If you came between him and his risotto he would become the living devil. He may appear to be the little saint he was, that was a façade when it came to his food.

Andrea played outside with the three of the four kids. There was Camilla, their eldest daughter at the age of eleven. Then there was Dante, their second child at the age of seven. And little Franco who was five years old.