ICE (on hold)

Chapter 13

We arrived in Italy 6a.m on a Friday morning. The trip had been quite pleasant with Maurico having his own private jet and all. I never been on a plane let alone been out of the U.S. To say I was excited was an understatement. A limo picked us up and carried us to the Maurico’s family home. From what I could see the place was huge. A beautiful brick mansion sat in the center of the land that seems to run on forever. It had a fountain right in the front that had an angel statue, with water shooting out of its mouth. Maurico helped me out of the limo while the driver retrieved our bags. Walking towards the large double mahogany doors I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Maurico on the other hand looked completely confident with his head held high as we step inside of his home.

We were met by a wide space that had a marble floor. Two spiral stair cases ran up each wall meeting at the top forming what looked to be a balcony on the second level of the house. To the left of me stood a beautiful white piano that looked like it had never been touch once. A sitting area was next to it.  On the right was another room that looked to be the dining room. A long wooden table was inside accompanied by matching chairs. I never understood why rich people did this. Walking down a long hall I noticed paintings and portraits lining the walls. Maurico remained silent the whole time until we stopped outside of a set of doors where he knocked twice.

“Come in,” a deep voice orders from the other side.

Taking my hand into his, Maurico open the door for us to walk in. The room was a large study or library. I wasn’t sure. A man and women sat on a couch having tea together from the smell. The woman was beautiful. Tall and slim with gorgeous raven hair that hung straight down her back. The man was just as attractive but taller and slightly overweight. He had curly black hair with hazel gold eyes just like his son.

“Mother…Father,” Maurico said letting my hand go to greet his parents. “This is Lakita,” he then says turning to introduce me to them.

“Nice to meet you, Lakita, I’m Theresa Marino and this is my husband Tony,” she says as hugs me then points towards her husband. Tony nodded at me while his wife took her seat again. “Have a seat guys. I’m so happy you were able to finally come. Maurico has told us so much about you.”

“I hope good things,” I say trying hard not the blush.

“Of course dear,” she reassured me with a smile.

“How far along are you?” Mr. Marino asked lighting a cigar.

Did this man just… “Five months. I’ll be six in a week,” I reply watching Mrs. Marino snatch the cigar out of Tony’s mouth and putting it out in the nearest ashtray. Mr. Marino looked at his wife with a pout. I fought hard not to roll my eyes.