Happy Saturday, everyone!

Thanks for joining me. Below is part 13 of my first Saturday Story: Rags to Riches. If you’re new to my Saturday Story, you can find parts 1-5 here.

Please check back next week for part 14. Have a great weekend!

Give your life the green light. It’s A Go!

Amber Green

Rags to Riches: Part 13

To Riches:

Nonno is the Italian word for grandfather, but we call our paternal grandfather (our last living grandparent), Papa.

I was excited to show Papa our new lifestyle, and shower him with gifts for Father’s Day (I’d never been able to do this before). As the family showed him our new, big homes, expensive furnishings and luxurious items, he smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of how nice everything was, but really, he didn’t seem all that impressed by our good fortune.

Secretly, I was a little crestfallen that he wasn’t more enthusiastic about our new lifestyle. As the day wore on, his demeanour remained pleasant but mildly aloof; his lack of enthusiasm made me feel that it seemed in poor taste- tacky, even- to show him house after house, car after car, and object after object. I might as well have filled a pool with bills and thrown him in like Scrooge McDuck diving into his pool of riches.

When we were alone for a few minutes later on that evening, I asked, “Papa, did you enjoy the day? Maybe- maybe it was a bit too much to show you everything all at once,” I concluded, awkwardly.

“It was a busy day, Franca, but I’m glad that you’re happy,” he responded, kindly. Upon seeing the disappointed look on my face, he took my hand and continued, “Money is nice, Franca, but it’s just a tool. Family- the people you love- they are the most important. Make sure that you continue working on relationships rather than just adding to my son’s car collection,” he finished with a smile.

So that was it. What good is all the wealth if there’s no one to share it with? Loved ones and family members (whether you were born into a tight-knit family like mine, or make your own family later on in life) are the most important.

…

From Rags:

I parked at my favourite café. I was meeting my sister for coffee, but she was running late, so I called my mother from the car.

“Hi Mom,” I said, when she answered the phone.

“Hi honey,” my mother, Melanie, responded warmly.

“I’m meeting Priscilla for coffee, but she’s running late, so I thought I’d give you a quick call,” I explained.

“Yes, I know. Your sister told us when she dropped by. She helped us with our printer and your father’s cell phone,” she said.

“That’s nice of her,” I said. “She really juggles a lot.”

“I know,” my mother said with admiration.

“Listen, I don’t mean for this to be awkward, but what are we doing for Father’s Day? It’s coming up.”

My mother paused for a moment. We’ve always had brunch or gotten together to celebrate Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, birthdays and holidays, but my father hadn’t spoken to Chris since he came out to my parents as a gay man after our last family brunch the other day.

“Yeah, we’ll plan something, darling; I just don’t know what yet,” my mom assured me.

“Okay, well, let me know if I can help,” I said.

“I will. Thanks, Franca. Love you. Bye,” my mom said.

“Bye,” I said, and we disconnected. My family had gone through rough patches just like any other, but when there was any kind of divide amongst us, it was usually just between us siblings, or my dad and Chris on one side and my mom, sister and me holding the opposing view. As we grew up, there were times that my siblings and I united against our parents wishes, but to have a divide between Chris and my father was utterly foreign. I thought about all of the Father’s Days my siblings and I celebrated with our father in the past. Our most exciting of times were spent at a ball game (and even then, we were in the nose-bleed seats at the top of the bleachers) or a car show (much to the happiness of my father). But we always had a good time. I’d have to ask Priscilla what dad looked like, and what she thought we should do for Father’s Day when she finally arrived.

…

My mother stood in the kitchen for a moment after our conversation. She took a deep breath and went into the living room.

“Who were you talking to?” my father asked, “Did Priscilla forget something?”

“No, it was Franca,” my mother said, sitting next to him. “She wanted to know what we are doing for Father’s Day.”

My father broke eye contact with my mother, and silently focused his attention on the television.

“Don’t shut me out, Carlos,” my mother said firmly. After another moment of icy silence, she changed her strategy, and said softly, “I know that this hard. We didn’t see it coming. We didn’t anticipate this life for our son, but our child is happy. We have to move past this,” she urged.

My father didn’t move. He made no indication that he realized that his wife was still in the room, let alone trying to converse with him.

“We have three beautiful children- three beautiful grandchildren; we didn’t work this hard for this long for one thing– something we can’t control- to tear us apart,” my mother said- her voice strong, but on the verge of pleading.

My parents knew each other well. They’re a strong couple, but Melanie knew in that moment that her husband was not going to budge tonight. She stood in front of the television. He did not look up at her, but pretended he could see through her.

“Family is important, Carlos. And I’ll be damned if the fact that our son sleeps with David instead of Daphne will tear us apart,” she pledged, and stormed out of the living room.

………

Check out Part 14 here.

*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

© 2018 Amber Green