Page 3 of Sweet Poison

Formula One World Champion.

Chapter

One

BABY PLEASE DON’T LEAVE HOME

Willow

“Love makes fools out of us.” — M

“Istill think Cianne should go with you,” Dad mutters for the fifth time since he and Mom barged into my room and took over my last-minute packing. I’ve put off packing because I was still unsure if this was something I wanted to do but Mom convinced me to look at my work trip as a big great adventure.

I don’t look at it like she does.

It is not a big, great adventure.

To me it is a trip I will be taking without my two favorite people in the whole world and that had me in a melancholic mood all month even though it is my favorite month of the year.

I’m leaving today and the only one excited for the trip is Mom.

I’m hesitant and Dad is in denial.

“No, Riagan. Willow is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” Mom retorts as she sorts my clothes into color-coordinated piles for the suitcase.

I watch in awe as she adds things that make me smile to the suitcase. She pulls out my favorite mushroom t-shirt and folds it carefully before placing it on top of the stack of clothes, a smile tugging at her lips.

Next, she reaches for my favorite book, Mushrooms Demystified, its cover creased from countless readings. The old book is filled with dog-eared pages and notes scribbled in the margins in green ink. She gently slides my book into the suitcase, placing it beside my favorite t-shirt. The sight of my Mom packing things that she knows makes me happy and lessens my anxiety makes me smile and brings warmth to my chest.

Lastly, I watch as she places my Formula 1 jacket inside the suitcase.

I smile wider at that, still remembering the day my aunt Arianna gifted it to me as a birthday present, along with tickets to see the final race of that year’s season. My heart was bursting as I tore open the wrapping paper, revealing the striking and iconic red jacket.

It is one of many happy memories I share with my aunt.

“Butterfly… she needs protection,” Dad argues, drawing my attention away from the jacket and up to him. I notice he’s stashed knives of every size inside the suitcase pocket. Since I’ll be traveling on our family’s jet, he knows the knives won’t be a problem.

I smile at that too.

In school I was not only the girl with all her uncles posing as bodyguards but also the one with tiny knives and pepper spray in her Hello Kitty backpack.

“She’ll be sa—” Mom starts to say but I interrupt her. “Uncle can come,” I interject, knowing they won’t come to an agreement since they’ve been arguing about the same thing since the first moment I brought up the trip. “I don’t mind it.” I smile at them while nerves take over my belly at the thought of leaving home for the first time during this time of the year.

The holidays.

Christmas is a big deal in our family.

I know it is a big deal in almost every house in the world but in the O’Sullivan household it is truly a magical event.

You see… my father is half Irish and half Italian, while mom is Italian-American. You’d think the Italian side of our family would dominate, but it doesn’t. Mom never quite connected with her heritage, so she embraced Dad’s Irish roots instead.

Our Christmas traditions are your typical ones, the same food, same decorations and all of that very American Christmas but we also decorate with holly, ivy, and of course Christmas lights. Dad is always in charge of hanging the wreath on the door while Mom hangs mistletoe all over.

Mom cooks the typical roast turkey with stuffing for the rest of the family and helps me make a vegetarian option for me while we also bake various desserts like Christmas pudding and mincemeat pie which grandpa enjoys more than the others.

The leaving of the shoes on Christmas eve is another of our traditions where it symbolizes a welcome to Mary and Joseph. It was always so much fun to wake up and find small treats and meaningful gifts in my father’s large shoes.

I’m going to miss all of that this year.

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