The Beneveti Mafia

26

A couple hours go by while I'm alone in my room, when I hear a knock on my door pulling me out of my deep conversation with myself.

"Come in!" I say hoping I didn't lock the door when I shut it last because I really didn't want to have to get up.

"Oh good! You didn't change!" She claps her hands quickly. Gianna walks in with an oversized thick woven black sweater on and blue jeans. A pair of Doc Martins fit her feet and compliment the outfit well giving her an effortless look. "Mamma just got done cooking dinner and she is really excited to meet you."

"Mamma? As in the woman who birthed you and your brother? As in probably the most important woman apart of this whole organization? Mamma?" I stammer as I talk when the crippling anxiety starting to build into my chest.

First impressions are everything to me. It solidifies if someone could really love you or really hate you. I want their mom to really like me because I don't have anywhere else to go if she doesn't. This is one big family so it's only fitting if the mother likes everyone, including me.

"I mean I guess. Come on! She's heard nothing but amazing things about you so I wouldn't be surprised if she already loves you!" Gianna grabs my hand and drags me off my bed. Thank god I'm quick on my feet because I caught myself and begin running with her down the hall.

We make our way to a massive room with a long table that could easily fit 30 men comfortably. Mauro is at the very end of the table staring into nothing while the rest of the men line the sides of the table. There are three chairs empty near Mauro's end of the table. I'm guessing those are for us.

We walk past all of them and push into swinging doors that lead to a beautiful perfect stainless steel kitchen. The smell that erupts from the room punches me in the face, and is enough to make you fall to your knees and beg for mercy, it's so amazing.

"Mamma!" Gianna calls into the kitchen.

"In here my baby!" A thick Italian accent calls back in the pantry.

Gianna sits us at some barstools underneath the island.

"Mamma le presento Brynn." She responds back in perfect Italian.

I forget sometimes that I'm Italian. It's sad really. I don't know how to speak it or understand it. When my Italian dad married my non Italian mom refused him to speak it to me, because she was afraid we were going to talk about her behind her back. Jokes on her, we would just say it to her face.

A beautiful dark haired woman comes from the pantry carrying a bag of what looks like grated Parmesan.

Her skin is a perfectly pale olive tone. Her dark curls cascade around her face making her look young. I can tell Mauro gets his eyes from his mother because they are the most beautiful light brown color, almost like honey.

"Ciao! Sono Laura ma puoi chiamarmi mamma." She smiles wide at me as she greets me and puts the bag of cheese on the counter.

(Hello! I am Laura but you can call me mom.)

"Ciao" I repeat to her and look at Gianna for help.

"She said her name is Laura but you can call her mom or mamma, which ever you prefer." Gianna whispers closely which helps me out.

"Sei bellissima." She come forward and wraps her hands around my cheeks. Her hands are warm and she smells like delicious food.

I look over at Gianna hopefully she translates for me.

"She said you're beautiful. Mamma lei non parla italiano." She explains to the lovely woman in front of me.

(Mom she doesn't speak Italian.)