I walked up the stairs to Gia’s room in no hurry to seek counsel for my wife. It’s been a while since I’ve been further than the doorway. I came up short when I realized how empty the room was. How had I never seen it before? The walls were bare; even the top of her bureau held nothing more than a bottle of lotion and a few hairpins.
The shelves lining the walls were bare. Then I remembered that her trophies from dance and gymnastics had been packed away a while ago. In short, there was nothing in the room to say that a teenage girl resided here. It looked more like a prison cell; all it was missing was a toilet in the corner.
If Adrienne was alive, it wouldn’t be like this, I’m sure. But once again, it was Becky that convinced me that this was what Gia wanted. How did I not realize that this is so vastly different from the little girl she’d been? How was it so easy for me to accept and believe that things had changed so much? That she’d gone from the being she once was, full of life and joy, to this?
My little girl liked canopy beds and princess everything. She used to play dress-up in her mom’s things and always liked something pretty in her hair. Her nursery had been one of wonder and fairytales; there was none of that here. No sign of the kid she once was.
I opened her closet to the ugly sweats and baggy jeans with the oversized unattractive tops she’d taken to wearing at age twelve. Something else Becky had claimed was growing pains. And yet, when she came here with the Russo kid, she’d looked like a damn model.
I felt the disconnect sharply, like a slap in the face, as I closed the door and went down the hallway to Victoria’s room. “What the hell happened in here?” The room looked like a whirlwind had gone through it. There were clothes strewn all over the floor and stuffing from stuffed animals that had their heads off and their insides discarded.
The bed had been stripped, and there were broken things everywhere. The only things that seemed untouched were the ribbons and rewards from her own achievements that sat in a display case on the wall. Even the desk where her computer sat was better than the one in my kid’s room. I can’t blame her, though, can I? She’s just a kid.
“Why does your room look like this? Is it always like this?” I walked to the door and called down the stairs to Ella. Victoria wasn’t saying anything; she just stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard with a look in her eyes I’d never seen before. Maybe she’d reacted like this because of what happened with her mother, but I would’ve heard the bookcase hitting the floor if that was the case.
“Yes, Mr. Fontane.”
“What happened here?” She looked at Victoria with a look no grown woman should give a teen, even one she works for; it was a look of fear.
“I’m not sure sir, I cleaned the room this morning like usual.”
“Victoria?”
“It’s nothing; she can clean it up. I just got upset, that’s all. Gabriel Russo burned my car for no reason. His fight is with mom. I don’t understand why he did that.”
She had a point unless he mistook the car for Becky’s. Somehow, I don’t think that kid makes those kinds of mistakes. So why? I started to ask her for the truth but instead carried on with what I’d come in here for. “You can go, Ella; you can take care of this later.” I walked into Victoria’s closet, and the first thing I noticed was the size of hers compared to Gia’s.
Then there were all the designer clothes in varying bright colors. The brightest thing in Gia’s closet was navy blue. There were still tags on some of her stuff; Gia didn’t seem to have anything new in hers. I was trapped in the middle of a poorly written B-Movie, one I co-authored. “What did you and your mother do to my daughter?”
VICTORIA
Why the hell is he acting like this? I didn’t have an answer to his question, so I looked away. I felt panic without mom here to handle him. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I know what I want to say, that he’s an ass who fell for mom’s con, but I can’t say that, can’t let him see the truth of what I think of him. Though he seems to be waking up to the facts, thanks to the damn Russos.
I haven’t had time to regroup; the hits just keep coming one after the other without letup, and before one catastrophe ends, another begins. Thankfully he left the room without pushing for an answer, and I dropped down on my destroyed bed feeling defeated. The room was a wreck, most of my things broken or torn to shreds, things that once held great value to me but now meant nothing because Gia had more.