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The downside is that his team plays against Papa and Remi’s. Worse, he’s accompanied by Uncle Aiden, Landon, who’s staying longer than needed—probably because Mia joined him—and Bran, who came to visit his parents with his fiancé, Nikolai.
Said fiancé stands out like a sore thumb amid our heritage dresses, Ralph Lauren blazers, and Loro Piana-acquired pieces.
Doesn’t help that he shouts profanity when anyone gets within a meter radius of Bran. Mia attempts to haul him down whenever he stands up, with little success.
At one point, he and Ari nearly started a fight because he called Remi a ‘motherfucker’ for lightly shoving Bran, and I swear she would’ve clawed his eyes out if I hadn’t brought her down.
As volatile as the situation is, I’m glad to get my mind off things. Even temporarily.
Besides, I’ll take any opportunity to dress up and look pretty.
I’m wearing a polka-dotted pink dress, the tulle underskirt adding a touch of playfulness to my outfit. Delicate lace gloves adorn my hands, matching the intricate design of my round hat. I completed the look with white-rimmed shades that shield my eyes from the bright sunlight while adding a chic and fashionable flair to my ensemble.
“This is so exciting,” Mama says from beside me, rocking her vintage dress.
“More like a disaster waiting to happen. If not on the field, then here.” I tug on my sister’s sleeve when she tries to talk shit at both Nikolai and Mia. “Just sit down, Ari!”
“You’re both going down.” She does a slicing-throat motion.
“Don’t threaten me with that if you can’t perform it in real life,” Nikolai says, relaxing his feet so they’re crossed at the ankles.
Ari lifts her chin “Who says I can’t? Wanna try me, big man?”
“Why is she nothing like you?” Mia whispers to me. “She’s like a more vicious version of Anni.”
“Tell me about it. We better stop your brother and my sister from killing each other.”
“Amen to that. Besides.” She smiles with triumph. “It’s obvious whose team is going to win. No offense to your dad and Remi.”
“I heard that!” Ari jumps up.
“And?” Mia attempts to be oblivious. “Lan and his team are better at this.”
“That’s right.” Nikolai puffs out his chest. “My Bran is made for elegant sports.”
“So is Remi! If you don’t shut up, I will…”
“What? What are you going to do with your mini size?” Nikolai drawls with contained impatience.
She gasps. “Height isn’t a flex, giant.”
“Not if I can squash you like an ant who’s getting in my way.”
“Come at me!”
“You’d drop dead before I reach you.”
“Stop it, Niko,” Mia whisper-yells at her brother while I wrestle Ari back to her seat.
Mama and Aunt Elsa just laugh and then both proceed to casually cheer for their husbands as if a world war isn’t at the point of erupting.
I’m the only one who’s torn between my dad’s and my husband’s teams. So I choose to cheer whenever either of the teams score and proceed to be called a traitor by the cult surrounding me.
Talk about trying to please everyone.
Papa and Remi pull the entire weight of their team, but they still lose by two goals, and the last one is scored by none other than Eli.
I clap even as Ari glares at me and then says in a dramatic voice, “Mama, let’s prepare Papa a pick-me-up meal and some condolences for fathering a traitor.”
