“Life is a fickle thing, and destiny is as unpredictable as the shifting of the wind.
When I was ten years old, I wasn't concerned about either of those things until the day my mother died. That single event changed the course of my life, pointing me towards a destiny I could never have foreseen, and a love I couldn't have forsaken even if I tried.”
Giselle
"From the moment I met her, even at our young ages, she carved her place in my heart. I'd made myself her protector, her champion and her knight, keeping her safe. I'd completely adored the little girl and would have done anything for her. Even then, when she was only ten and I was fifteen, she'd been so much more than a little sister."
Gilles
Gilles
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Seattle, Washington – March, 2006
Sitting on the side of the bed with my arms around my backpack, I waited for my new family to come and take me away.
The couple were old friends of my mother's and everything had been arranged; when Mama passed on from the cancer, I was to live with Gina and Marco de Francesco and become a part of their family–a plan I wasn't informed of until the reading of her will. I met the de Francescos the summer before when they came to visit. Daddy had just died in a car accident and they came to support Mama.
They had one son, Gilles. We shared the same birthday, July 25th. Like me, he was an only child. Gilles was very tall for his age. At only fifteen, he was well over six feet. He was a wrestler in school, so he was very muscular. Five years older than me, he had become my friend and my support that summer, talking and spending time with me during the day, and comforting me during the nights that I would awaken from bad dreams, nights when Mama was too emotionally exhausted to get up. Gilles would sit in the rocking chair in my room and hold me, quieting my fears, giving me new dreams to lull me back to sleep. And now he would be my brother.
Lost in thought, I looked around my bare room. I was about to move away from everything I had ever known. The house was sold and all my things were packed up and shipped. Some of Mama's things were shipped as well, little keepsakes for me. The rest were sold, the money put into a savings account for me.
I missed Mama so much. I missed Daddy too. But while Daddy had been my sun and moon, Mama had been my whole world, my universe. My only other relative was an uncle who was a resident in the state mental hospital and would be there for the rest of his life. I remembered seeing him a few times when I was little. He played with me and made weird noises, jerking his head a lot. Tourette's Syndrome is what Mama said it was. She used to visit him on a regular basis. There was no one left to visit him now. I wondered if he would miss Mama, or if her absence would even matter.
“Come on, pretty girl, it's time to go.” Gilles' voice was soft as he entered my room.
Standing, I slipped my arms through the straps of my backpack and grabbed my ballet bag, something I definitely could not leave behind. I had taken ballet since I was five and hoped to continue in Park City. I stood for another moment, looking around my room, feeling so lost. Gilles took my hand and we walked downstairs where Gina and Marco were waiting.
“Did you remember everything?” Gina asked. “Once we're on the road, there's no turning back.”
I nodded at this woman who would be taking Mama's place in a way. She was the kind of woman Mama would call high maintenance–very fashionable with her perfectly-styled, chic haircut, red manicured nails, designer outfit, plucked brows, and year-round tan. Gina was the polar opposite of Mama. Mama was what you would call a minimalist. She used to wear only a hint of makeup on her dark skin, her hair was wash and wear, the tight curls uniform and reaching her shoulders. She liked sundresses and sandals in the summer, and denims and soft sweaters in the winter. Hers was a natural beauty that radiated warmth and reflected its own elegance. The two women were as different as night and day. There was nothing bottled or packaged about Mama. I couldn't say the same about her friend.
Gina's husband, Marco, owned a foreign sports car business and was always dressed casually– the opposite of his wife–and therefore much more approachable, even though he was built like a muscleman. Gilles was a younger version of his dad with his tousled, black hair and ocean-blue eyes.
I couldn't help wondering where I would fit in their world. Being the product of a Nigerian-born mother and a Welsh father, people always told Mama I was a beautiful child, that I was a friendly and helpful child. Angelic was what they called me. But would that be enough to fit in with this new life? I didn't know, but I truly hoped so.
Smiling, Marco took my free hand. “Let's go, bella.”
We exited the house and Marco locked the door, placing the key in the lock box hanging on the knob. I got in the back seat with Gilles and peered through the tinted window, keeping my eyes on the house until it was far from my view, accepting that I would never see it again.
Chapter 1
Seattle, Washington – March, 2006
Sitting on the side of the bed with my arms around my backpack, I waited for my new family to come and take me away.
The couple were old friends of my mother's and everything had been arranged; when Mama passed on from the cancer, I was to live with Gina and Marco de Francesco and become a part of their family–a plan I wasn't informed of until the reading of her will. I met the de Francescos the summer before when they came to visit. Daddy had just died in a car accident and they came to support Mama.
They had one son, Gilles. We shared the same birthday, July 25th. Like me, he was an only child. Gilles was very tall for his age. At only fifteen, he was well over six feet. He was a wrestler in school, so he was very muscular. Five years older than me, he had become my friend and my support that summer, talking and spending time with me during the day, and comforting me during the nights that I would awaken from bad dreams, nights when Mama was too emotionally exhausted to get up. Gilles would sit in the rocking chair in my room and hold me, quieting my fears, giving me new dreams to lull me back to sleep. And now he would be my brother.
Lost in thought, I looked around my bare room. I was about to move away from everything I had ever known. The house was sold and all my things were packed up and shipped. Some of Mama's things were shipped as well, little keepsakes for me. The rest were sold, the money put into a savings account for me.
I missed Mama so much. I missed Daddy too. But while Daddy had been my sun and moon, Mama had been my whole world, my universe. My only other relative was an uncle who was a resident in the state mental hospital and would be there for the rest of his life. I remembered seeing him a few times when I was little. He played with me and made weird noises, jerking his head a lot. Tourette's Syndrome is what Mama said it was. She used to visit him on a regular basis. There was no one left to visit him now. I wondered if he would miss Mama, or if her absence would even matter.
“Come on, pretty girl, it's time to go.” Gilles' voice was soft as he entered my room.
Standing, I slipped my arms through the straps of my backpack and grabbed my ballet bag, something I definitely could not leave behind. I had taken ballet since I was five and hoped to continue in Park City. I stood for another moment, looking around my room, feeling so lost. Gilles took my hand and we walked downstairs where Gina and Marco were waiting.
“Did you remember everything?” Gina asked. “Once we're on the road, there's no turning back.”
I nodded at this woman who would be taking Mama's place in a way. She was the kind of woman Mama would call high maintenance–very fashionable with her perfectly-styled, chic haircut, red manicured nails, designer outfit, plucked brows, and year-round tan. Gina was the polar opposite of Mama. Mama was what you would call a minimalist. She used to wear only a hint of makeup on her dark skin, her hair was wash and wear, the tight curls uniform and reaching her shoulders. She liked sundresses and sandals in the summer, and denims and soft sweaters in the winter. Hers was a natural beauty that radiated warmth and reflected its own elegance. The two women were as different as night and day. There was nothing bottled or packaged about Mama. I couldn't say the same about her friend.
Gina's husband, Marco, owned a foreign sports car business and was always dressed casually– the opposite of his wife–and therefore much more approachable, even though he was built like a muscleman. Gilles was a younger version of his dad with his tousled, black hair and ocean-blue eyes.
I couldn't help wondering where I would fit in their world. Being the product of a Nigerian-born mother and a Welsh father, people always told Mama I was a beautiful child, that I was a friendly and helpful child. Angelic was what they called me. But would that be enough to fit in with this new life? I didn't know, but I truly hoped so.
Smiling, Marco took my free hand. “Let's go, bella.”
We exited the house and Marco locked the door, placing the key in the lock box hanging on the knob. I got in the back seat with Gilles and peered through the tinted window, keeping my eyes on the house until it was far from my view, accepting that I would never see it again.