Time moves strangely, during the week following my father’s passing. The minutes slow to a crawl as Harrison, Enzo, my mother and I try and fill the days about our Italian estate. But even as each second drags on forever, the days fly by. The paradox leaves me feeling exhausted and anxious, charged and drained. In what seems like forever and no time at all, another week has somehow passed.
Like clockwork, the outside world begins to filter back into our mournful cocoon. Team Ferrelli sends shot after shot over the bow, urging Enzo to ease back into training. And it isn’t just my brother that the ownership is eager to bring back into the fold. With my father’s death, I’ve now become a shareholder myself. I’m now an important part of Team Ferrelli, my voice will finally be heard. The owners have already made it clear that this is no ceremonial title for me. My input will not only be encouraged, but necessary.
I have enormous shoes to fill, stepping in for my father, but it’s the challenge I’ve been waiting for. I can strategize and delegate with the best of them. At the end of the day, I’ll be doing what I always have been: helping Enzo succeed as a driver while bettering my team and the sport. My vacated seat as PR director will be going to none other than Bex, and even Charlie is officially coming onto the team as assistant manager to Gus. I’ll be surrounded by everyone I love...with the notable and insurmountable exception of my father.
Enzo and Harrison decide to set off together after just a few days at the Lazio estate. Their teams are eager to get them into training mode once more, and the distraction will do them good—especially Enzo. Harrison is heading back to his home in London while Enzo settles back into his bachelor pad, nearer to the Ferrelli headquarters than our home up here in the hills. I’ll follow him soon to meet with the owners and discuss my role on the team, but for now I’m hanging back. This is my chance to get some alone time with my mom and catch up on some rather crucial girl talk about a certain bun in the oven.
The four of us stand on the front steps, saying our goodbyes before the boys depart. I hug Enzo fiercely, holding on with all the strength I’ve got.
“I’ll see you soon,” I tell him, “Don’t push yourself too hard. No one’s expecting you to be one hundred percent again right away.”
“Except for me.” Enzo replies.
My brother moves to bid Mom farewell, and Harrison lays a hand on my back. His eyes are clouded with concern as he looks at me.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, “And I’ll see you in no time. I’ll meet with Ferrelli in a couple of days, then come find you in London. We can figure everything out then.”
“Will you stay awhile?” Harrison asks hopefully. Our situation is so unconventional that we have no idea what to do about our living arrangements in the off-season. Should I move into Harrison’s London townhouse? Should we split time between England, Italy, and America? Buy a house boat instead?
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I say, kissing him goodbye.
Enzo and Harrison climb back into the rental car and take off down the long drive as Mom and I look on. I feel strangely grown up, standing beside my mother now. Is it only that we all feel a bit older, having said goodbye to Dad? Is it that I have a man in my life that I love more than anything? Or could it be the potential little life inside me that has me feeling so grown?
“Why don’t we have a cup of tea?” I say to my mother, “And, um...catch up a bit.”
She nods, and we head inside together. I busy myself in the kitchen, my nerves on end as I work up to telling her my news. She settles into the breakfast nook and I set the kettle to boil and ready our mugs with mindfully decaffeinated tea. I need something to settle my stomach quickly, before another round of nausea claims me. Even with my almost daily waves of sickness, I refuse to let myself believe this is really happening. Until a doctor says it’s so, everything is only hypothetical.
I carry two steaming mugs of chamomile to the wooden table, smiling nervously as I set them down.
“Thank you, darling,” my mother says, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug. She’s gone back to her usual beauty regimen in the past week, and looks as put-together as ever. If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I’ll ever learn to be as graceful as my mother.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I tell her, “It hasn’t even been a week since Dad died, and you’re so...collected.”
“What else is there to do but keep living?” she shrugs, “Your father is...was...an F1 driver, Siena. I’ve been bracing myself for his passing for the entire course of our marriage.”
“Wasn’t that a depressing way to live?” I ask her, sipping my tea.
“Not at all,” she tells me, “Knowing he could be gone at any moment made me appreciate him all the more. Are you thinking of your own F1 driver, Siena?”
“I guess I am,” I admit.
“You two have gotten rather serious,” my mother observes, “He makes you very happy. I can tell.”
“He does, Mom,” I smile, “Even after all of the championship madness, we’re stronger than ever. I really love him.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Mom says, taking my hand in hers, “Enjoy every minute of this time. You’re only young and in love once.”
A pang twists my heart as my mother echoes Harrison’s sentiments. How am I supposed to be young and carefree when I could be carrying another life inside of me as we speak?
“Well...um...” I stammer, “The thing is, we might be moving onto a new...phase of our relationship pretty soon.”
“A new phase?” Mom asks, “Are you planning on moving in together?”
“Probably,” I tell her, “But that’s not really—”
“Is he going to propose?” she posits excitedly, “Bex and Charlie have already—”
“I know,” I cut her off, “But I’m not really...We’re...”
“What is it, darling?” my mother asks, “Don’t be bashful, it might be something I know a thing or two about.”
“Oh, it is,” I tell her, “You’ve done it twice, after all...”
A long moment of contemplative silence passes between us as my words sink in. Mom’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as she looks at me in a whole new light. For a moment, I’m worried that she’s going to cry, scream, tell me I’m making a terrible mistake. But then, miraculously, her face breaks into a wide, rapturous smile.
“Siena,” she breathes, “You’re...are you having a baby?”
“It’s...very possible,” I tell her breathlessly.
“Tell me everything!” she gushes, clutching my hands, “When did you find out?”
“Just before we came back here,” I tell her, “When we were in Dallas. The day after the Grand Prix I woke up so sick. At first I thought I was just hungover, but then I realized that I couldn’t remember when my last period had been. Thank God Bex was there. She got me some pregnancy tests to take, and they, uh, both turned out positive. I know that those aren’t enough to go by, but I’ve been feeling nauseated in the morning ever since. I always get so screwed up from traveling during the season when it comes to the pill, I could very well...you know.”
“So this wasn’t planned?” she asks.
“God no!” I laugh, “Harrison’s just been made lead driver and I’ve just become a Ferrelli shareholder. Not exactly an ideal time, is it?”
“Siena, let me tell you a secret,” Mom says, “It’s never an ideal time. You never feel one hundred percent ready.”
“But we’re...you know. We’re not even married,” I say.
“Oh, who cares?” she says, waving her hand, “In this day and age, things can be a little out of order, don’t you think? You and Harrison love each other. You’re already light-years ahead of plenty of other parents in that respect.”
“I hope he feels the same way,” I sigh.
“You...haven’t told him?” Mom asks.
“I didn’t exactly have an ideal moment,” I say, “What with...”
“Ah,” Mom says, �
��Of course.”
“I just want to be sure before I go to him with this,” I tell her. I haven’t been to a doctor, yet, and—Mom, what are you doing?”
“Bringing you to see my doctor, of course,” she says, grabbing her purse. “If I have a grandchild on the way, I want to know for sure.”
“Right now?” I splutter, “Shouldn’t we take a little more time—?”
“Siena,” she says, plucking her cell phone out of her purse, “If you’ve got a little one on the way, trust me—you’ll want to know everything as soon as possible. I have a wonderful doctor here who will see you at once if I ask nicely. Why don’t you go run a comb through your hair and we’ll be off?”
“Oh...OK...” I say, at a loss. I pick myself up from my chair and get set to amble off, but my mom catches me in a swift hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” she whispers, “In the middle of all this sadness, what happy news this is.”
“We’re not sure yet,” I remind her.
“Let’s just say I have a feeling,” she smiles, letting her hand rest lightly on my belly. “Now go on and get ready.”
She puts her phone to her ear as I walk away, excited and scared to know for sure whether or not this is truly happening.
* * *
In no time at all, Mom’s snagged me an appointment with her doctor. Camilla Lazio is not an easy woman to turn down. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen her take no for an answer in my twenty five years on this planet. She summons a car for us and it’s off to the doctor’s office.
I gaze out the window at the Italian countryside, trying to ease deep breaths into my lungs. But keeping my eyes trained on the moving landscape turns out to be a terrible idea. Nausea surges up inside my body—motion sickness or morning sickness, who’s to say? I close my eyes tightly and lean hard against the back seat. As supportive as my mother is, I wish that Harrison was here to help see me through this.
“Are you OK, Siena?” Mom asks, laying a comforting hand on my arm.
“I just want to know what’s going on with my body,” I tell her.
“It takes a little getting used to,” Mom allows, “But it will be OK. Women’s bodies are built for this, remember. Not that every woman has to be a mother, of course, but you can trust your body to know that to do.”
“Right now all my body seems capable of is making me want to throw up my breakfast,” I say grumpily.
“Well...Not everything about pregnancy is pretty,” Mom sighs.
We arrive at the doctor’s office and sidle inside. A medical assistant catches sight of my mother and immediately ushers us back to a room. It seems that my mother’s reputation for getting what she wants precedes her.
“You can go ahead and put on that robe there,” the assistant tells me in Italian, “Dr. Ricci will be with you in just a minute.”
My mom steps out into the hallway to give me some privacy. We’re a close family, but we were raised pretty modestly. I can’t imagine what my father would say about all of this. Would he be furious with me for getting pregnant outside of marriage? Or would his joy at having a grandchild override that? A fresh pang of sadness grips my heart as I shrug off my clothes and step into the gown. I’ll never know what my dad would have thought about me having a baby with Harrison.
A soft knock on the door interrupts my somber reverie.
“Come in,” I call.
My mother reenters the room, leading a white-haired woman in behind her. I can’t help but feel relieved that Dr. Ricci is a woman rather than a man. The last thing I need right now is some middle aged guy casting judgment on my life choices.
“Good morning, Siena,” Dr. Ricci smiles, shaking my hand and speaking to me in beautiful Italian, “I’ve heard so much about you over the years. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Thank you...” I say, speaking Italian as well.
“Don’t be nervous,” the doctor tells me, “Just lay back and we’ll get you all set.”
I have to remind myself not to hold my breath as I recline on the examination table. This is it. In seconds, I’ll know for sure whether my rather founded suspicions are true. I have the mad urge to spring up off the table and run away as fast as I can. If I were wearing anything but a flimsy pink gown, I just might.
The medical assistant lathers up my stomach with cool gel as the ultrasound machine blinks to life. How the hell does anyone get through this without having a serious panic attack?
“OK now,” Dr. Ricci says, lowering her instrument to my belly, “Let’s take a look...”
I grab frantically for my mother’s hand as the wand glances against my skin. She gives my fingers a supportive squeeze as Dr. Ricci begins her examination. A surge of doubt courses through me. What if I’ve just been paranoid this whole time? What if the pregnancy tests were defective, and I just have the flu, and I’ve done all this worrying just for nothing—?
“There’s no doubt about it,” Dr. Ricci says with a smile, “You’re about eight weeks along, Siena.”
The world grinds to a halt as I take in her words. The black and white ultrasound swims up before my eyes. What was moments ago a formless Rorschach test is now the most important thing in my entire life.
“That’s...my baby?” I breathe, staring at the small, pulsating dot on the screen. It’s no bigger than an olive, but in an instant it becomes my new center of gravity. I stare down at my flat stomach, amazed and baffled.
“Well shit,” I breathe.
“Oh, Siena,” my mom exclaims, taking my face in her hands, “I can’t believe it...This is incredible news!”
“Would you like me to print out a picture for you and the father?” asks Dr. Ricci. “Some couples like to use a sonogram shot as a birth announcement. Put in on the Faceworld, or something. I don’t quite understand it, but—”
“I should probably let him know about it first,” I say nervously, “We haven’t exactly had the whole I’m-carrying-your-child conversation yet.”
“Oh,” Dr. Ricci says, clearly surprised, “Uh, yes. The sooner the better.”
“I was going to go stay with him in London while we figure things out,” I tell my mom, “You know, where we’re going to live, how we’re going to work around our careers...And now this, I guess. Not exactly the most comfortable conversation in the world...”
“Are you worried about how he’ll take it?” Mom asks.
“No!” I exclaim, “I mean...maybe? I don’t know. I’m not even really sure how I’m taking it yet. It’s going to totally blindside him. He’s not even thirty yet, about to start the most exciting part of his career. I mean, we just met a few months ago! What if he gets totally freaked out? I know he loves me, but could I really blame him if he didn’t want a baby right now?”
“If you want to discuss other options—” the doctor begins.
“No,” I cut her off, “Sorry, but no, that won’t be necessary. I’m going to keep it, one way or another. It’s just that I don’t have any idea what I’m doing...”
“No one does the first time,” my mom says, kissing my hand, “You just have to have faith in yourself, Siena. Like I told you, there’s never a perfect time. For two people as driven and ambitious as you and Harrison, it’s always going to be a tough call. But if you want to have this child, you should do it. I can’t believe it. My little girl is going to be a mother!”
“One thing at a time,” I laugh, “First, I need to get my butt back to London and talk this over with Harrison. Well, actually, that’s after I meet with the Ferrelli owners to talk about my new job. And then of course I’ll have to beat it back to New York, after London...”
“What’s in New York?” Mom asks.
“Bex and Charlie’s wedding,” I tell her. “They’re having a tiny thing at her parents’ house. And guess who’s serving as the maid of honor?”
“But of course,” Mom sighs.
“I feel like I’m living in a punch line right now,” I muse, “A wedding, a funeral, and a secre
t baby...When it rains it pours, huh?”
“If anyone can handle all of this, you can,” Mom says, as the ultrasound monitor hums peacefully beside us. “I’m just so sorry your father won’t be here to meet his grand baby. I hope you know that he would have supported you in this, too.”
It’s a funny kind of family moment—me, my mom, and the sonogram—but one that I know I’ll treasure forever. This may not be the most conventional way to go about things, but what about my life has ever been anything close to conventional?
“I can do this,” I repeat, reassuring myself as much as anyone else. But even as I say it, I know in my heart that it’s true. I’ll have Harrison there by my side, after all. We managed to outfox a dangerous criminal and score a couple of F1 championships at the same time. This should be a breeze...right?
CHAPTER SIX
I have to hold my cell away from my ear as Bex’s voice shrieks across the line.
“Oh my god!” she gushes, “It’s really happening!”
“Looks like,” I reply, smiling apologetically at my driver as we make our way through the city streets. I’m on my way to meet with the owners of Team Ferrelli before I bounce back to London to meet up with Harrison again.
“Siena, if the whole wedding thing is going to be too much to deal with now, I totally understand,” Bex goes on.
“Are you kidding?” I exclaim, “There’s no way I’m missing your wedding, Bex. Or stepping down as maid of honor. Your wedding is going to be classy and simple and perfect. And it helps that you’re doing it so quickly—it’s like an elopement that we all get to be there for! I’ll hardly even be through my first trimester!”
I blush as the driver shoots me a quizzical look. All this pregnancy speak feels so strange on my tongue.
“I can’t believe that my best friend is going to be a mom,” Bex sighs.
“That makes two of us,” I tell her.
“What did Harrison say when you told him?” she asks.
“Um...Well...”
“Siena,” Bex gasps, “You haven’t told Harrison that you’re pregnant yet?!”
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