Another lazy day, I'm slowly adjusting to a new way of life. Sitting in the shade, reading Vogue Italia, taking care of myself.
I hear my aunt talking to dad on the phone, she's upset. She talks to him in a 200 mph Italian, gesturing with her entire body. I pretend not to listen but I already know what they are saying, I've heard it all before. Dad is not a "real" Italian since he gave up and moved to America. He should never have abandoned such a big part of his family, and for something so cheap and superficial!
The only thing I can't figure out is if my aunt really wanted to go too, if she feels left behind or just let down. The way she talks about California and Los Angeles - contemptuously - doesn't quite cover the little traces of envy in her voice.