NO DOUBT [bwwm]

• 4 • The Princess and the Humble Peasant

I held onto the locket around my neck. Mama Rose. I missed her so much. She gave me the necklace as a gift, on my 6th birthday, two years before passing away. My oldest memories were with her. My happiest ones too.

I smiled sadly, remembering her. Her big afro, her large 'granny' sweaters, her books. She was so smart and kind. The sound of her voice was slowly escaping me, but I couldn't forget what she taught me.

Choose life, always.

Never let anyone know your full name, ever.

The last one was more of an order than an advice. So I never did. 'Josie Valentina' was the most I'd share.

I got up from my vanity mirror after making sure I looked good and modest enough for church. I went every Sunday since I turned 18. I did so more to honour a tradition, than out of belief. Mama Rose used to take me constantly before she couldn't anymore. Like clockwork, every Sunday we'd attend the 10AM to 1PM church service. I'd fall asleep after barely an hour, but it was time spent with her.

I drove off to church and once there I took a seat at the far back. Being there made me feel closer to my late parent. She was the only parent I knew, even my birth parents I had no emotional attachment to. Mama Rose told me they had a fatal car accident when I was just a few months old.

She had recounted me countless times the tale of a forbidden love between a princess and a humble peasant whose union was made possible - not without obstacles - and who found happiness in the birth of their little one. Once they tragically died, the child's Godmother had took her under her wing to become her adoptive family. I believed her story at the innocent ages of childhood, but I eventually grew up and understood, life is no fairytale. Neither was my parents' history. It was too late when I realized the princess and the humble peasant were never named, and I was too old and resentful to care.

I looked up to the cathedral's ceiling where saints and angels are pictured around the Christ. I liked to imagine Mama Rose as one of those angels. Jesus was Mama Rose's savior, but she was mine.

***

I pushed the restaurant's door open. As it was only 2PM, the place was mostly empty. I waved at Giulia and Stefano who were seated at the far corner, looking pretty busy with paperwork. Only Stefano waved back, his wife simply glared at me. I didn't know what was up with her, but I didn't want to know either. I was just hoping she would grow to at least be polite with me.

Once my hair was tied back and my clothes adjusted in order not to infuriate a certain someone, I made my way to the dining area so I could clean up what was left from the lunch rush. I got close to where my bosses were and took the opportunity to eavesdrop, just to keep myself entertained.

"... And on top of that, Xiomara didn't even show up last week, or yesterday, so now the house's a mess," Giulia was complaining.