Taking The Mantle

Chapter 38

Rosa and Elle walk hand in hand into the bridal boutique. Elle's talking to her with fast and excited words, her free hand flying around. I follow behind them closely with Vic trailing a few feet back.

"Ms. DiSilva," a saleswoman approaches with a smile, "I'm so glad you've chosen our shop for your wedding needs."

"Thank you," Rosa smiles, "we need to get some flower girl dresses."

"And is this cutie the flower girl?" the saleswoman crouches slightly.

Elle's brow furrows and she takes a step behind Rosa. Rosa nods and pats the top of Elle's head.

"Yes," she replies, "she's a little shy though."

"That's alright," the saleswoman straightens herself, "let's take a look around, shall we?"

Rosa looks at me over her shoulder and I offer a reassuring nod. She follows the woman over to a rack of small white dresses. Elle separates from her to look at a shelf of sparkling tiaras.

"You put this kid in the most ridiculous outfits," I inform Vic as I sit on a white leather bench.

Elle wears a dark blue dress with ruffled sleeves and a floral sash. Classic Mary Jane shoes are paired with frilly socks and a matching blue bow is clipped in her hair. She looks like one of those kids in a J. Crew catalogue.

"No one asked you," Vic remarks, sitting beside me.

"Yeah," Elle pipes up, "get fucked."

My mouth drops open. I look over at Victoria who wears a look of horror. Her eyes dart around the store at the other patrons, a few of which are in fact staring.

"Oh my god," Vic exclaims, mortified, " Isabelle you cannot say that. That's a very bad word."

"Oh this is great," I lean back with a smirk.

"Did you teach her that?" she glares at me.

"No," I scoff.

"Elle," Vic walks over to her daughter and crouches down, "where did you hear that?"

"I'm not a snitch," Elle shrugs.

I try to cover my laugh with a cough. If nothing else, the kids got loyalty. Vic shoots me another glare. She grabs her daughter's shoulders and forces her to look at her.

"If you don't tell me you'll have no princess movies for a week," Victoria says sternly.

Elle's eyes widen before she blurts out, "Daddy."

"What?" Vic gasps.

This is fucking great. Regular Victoria is scary. Angry Victoria even more so. But pregnant and angry Victoria? I've never seen such a terrifying combination in a person. Luca's in trouble again.

"He says it a lot," Elle shrugs.

Vic looks at me and I shrug; he does say that phrase often. Vic frowns and rises to her full height. Rosa saunters over with a smile and takes Elle's hand in hers.

"Ready to try on some dresses?" she asks.

"Heck yeah!" Elle exclaims, matching her excited grin.

Vic returns to my side and folds her arms over her chest. Elle turns five soon, the age in which Luca promised she could take dance lessons. I wonder what the dance teacher is going to think about her potty mouth. It's endlessly entertaining and the exact problem we had with Enzo.

"Did this happen when you guys were younger?" Vic asks, her gaze set on the doors of the dressing rooms.

"What?" I ask, "did we curse?"