Twists and Turns in Monte Carlo: A Formula 1 Affair

{13.0}

Joanne stepped out onto the sun-drenched terrace of her grandmother's estate, the air thick with the scent of blooming roses and freshly turned earth. Her grandmother, Jackie, was hunched over in her garden, planting in the small patch she tended to herself. Joanne admired her grandmother's resilience—still sharp, still elegant, even in her seventies, with her perfectly tailored gardening gloves and oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. Even her now grey, nearly white hair was styled to perfection, she blended into the scene.

As Joanne approached, Jackie glanced up from her work, her keen eyes studying her granddaughter. "What's bothering you, my child?" she asked, her voice soft but pointed, the kind of directness Joanne had come to expect from her. If there was one person she never could lie to it was her grandmother, she reads Joanne like an open book.

Joanne let out a breath, pulling a cigarette from her jacket pocket and lighting it with a flick of her lighter. She took a drag, then reached over and handed one to her grandmother, who accepted it without hesitation. Joanne sat down on the stone bench nearby, crossing her long legs, her tattooed arms resting on her knees.

"You already know," Joanne muttered, the smoke curling lazily in the air between them.

Jackie raised an eyebrow as she resumed planting, her movements graceful despite her age. "Ah, the news," she said with a knowing smile. "I saw the pictures. You two looked stunning as a couple. The media can be cruel, but you carried yourself beautifully, as always. As I taught you."

Joanne huffed, her eyes narrowing as she took another drag. "Well, thanks. At least you think about it that way."

Jackie's hands worked deftly in the soil as she planted another seedling, still with steadiness and precision. Even gardening screamed like a high class craft when Jackie did it. "Oh, darling, I know what it's like. I spent most of my life being judged by people who didn't know me, assuming things based on a photograph or a headline. It's exhausting." She paused, looking at Joanne over her sunglasses. "But I learned early on that their opinions didn't define me. And they don't define you."

Joanne gave a small, bitter laugh, watching her grandmother as she worked. "Yeah, easier said than done. I can feel people judging me harder now. Like they think I'm just some... accessory. Like I don't deserve to be where I am."

Jackie's gaze softened, but she didn't stop her gardening. "You've earned every bit of your success, Joey. Anyone who says otherwise is blind to your accomplishments. Besides," she added with a faint smile, "you've never needed validation from others. Why start now?"

Joanne flicked the ash from her cigarette, leaning back against the bench. "It's not that simple. It's different when people don't just see me as 'Joanne Kennedy, lawyer.' Now it's 'Toto Wolff's girlfriend.' It feels like everything I've worked for has been overshadowed."

The blond looked a bit around in the perfect garden, seeing Mr. Oscrop sitting at the other terrace reading newspaper and smoking a cigar. "The burden was always there, I was only ever seen as JFKs granddaughter, but somehow this was less dehumanizing as only being viewed as girlfriend of." 

Jackie paused in her gardening, her gloved hands resting in the soil as she considered Joanne's words. The older woman had lived through decades of public scrutiny, of being reduced to titles that hardly captured her true self. Her eyes, sharp and wise, flicked toward Joanne, catching the light.

"I understand," Jackie said quietly. "There's a certain kind of pressure in being part of this family, yes. They see our name and think they know everything about us. But there's a difference between being defined by legacy and being reduced to a relationship. One feels like history, the other... ownership."

Joanne nodded, tapping the ash off her cigarette and blowing out a slow stream of smoke. "Exactly. It's like everything I've done—everything I've built—is suddenly less important because of who I'm dating. I mean, I really like him, I do. But I don't want to be just his girlfriend. I've worked too damn hard to be my own person."

Jackie resumed planting, her movements deliberate and unhurried, as if the act itself was helping her think. "You're not just anyone's anything, Joanne. You never have been. You are a Kennedy, end of discussion. They will put a label on you, and you will show them what the women in this family are caved out of."

Joanne looked at her grandmother, the woman who had endured so much yet always carried herself with grace and dignity. It was something she admired, but also something she struggled with. Joanne wasn't always as controlled, nor did she want to be. She wore her tattoos proudly, spoke her mind openly, and was unapologetically herself—yet it still stung when she was judged for things that had nothing to do with her achievements.

"I used to think the Kennedy name was enough of a shadow to live under," Joanne said, her voice a little bitter. "But now it's like being with Toto casts a new one. And the way people at that race judged me... it wasn't just the media. It was people in his world. They looked at me like I didn't belong, like I was some outsider playing dress-up in their world. It was worse than the public scrutiny. Judge me for my work, dislike me for it even, but that - Toto and me is nothing they should have an opinion on."

Jackie looked up from her plants, tilting her head slightly. "And how did that make you feel?"

Joanne hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She didn't want to admit how much it had bothered her, but this was her grandmother—someone who had faced all kinds of harsh judgments and survived them with elegance. "It made me feel... small," she finally confessed, her voice quieter. "Like maybe I don't belong there. Like maybe they're right."

Jackie stood up slowly, wiping her gloves on her apron, and walked over to Joanne, standing tall despite her years. She took off her gardening gloves and placed them on the stone bench, then sat down beside her granddaughter.

"Joey, you have faced down more in your life than most people could handle in three lifetimes. You've dealt with the weight of this family's history, your father's death, and everything that's come with it. You've built your own career, your own life, on your terms. You belong wherever you decide to belong."

Joanne bit her lip, the tightness in her chest easing just a little. Her grandmother always had a way of cutting through her doubts with a calm, steady truth.

"It's just... exhausting," Joanne murmured, the edges of her voice softening. "And I feel like I'm always walking this tightrope between being strong enough to handle it all and wanting to just disappear for a while."

Jackie lit her cigarette now, taking a slow drag, the smoke curling up into the air. "It's okay to feel tired. It's okay to feel unsure. But don't ever let anyone make you question your worth. Not the media, not his world, not anyone."

Joanne's eyes softened as she looked at her grandmother, the weight of her words settling into her bones. "I just wish it didn't feel like I had to keep proving myself, over and over."

Jackie smiled faintly, the kind of smile that held decades of wisdom behind it. "Proving yourself is something you can choose to stop doing. People will always have opinions. But your job is to decide which ones matter. And if they don't—well, let them talk. They've been talking about this family for decades. We're still here, aren't we?"

Joanne chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not easy," Jackie said, her eyes locking onto Joanne's. "But it's necessary. Especially if you want to be truly free of their expectations."

They sat in silence for a moment, the garden around them alive with the sound of bees buzzing and birds chirping in the trees. Joanne flicked her cigarette away, watching as the smoke dissipated into the blue sky.

She turned to look at her grandmother, whom seemed so at peace with herself. Jackie noticed after a quick moment, took a last drag and put out the cigarette. "Oh my dear, you don't have to ask me for a hug", she pulled Joanne into her arms, before her granddaughter cold response, "thats what I am here for. This family might be a little nuts sometimes and I a little harsh towards you, but in the end, my love for you is endless."