*Olivia*
A few days later, I stood next to the baggage claim at Florence Airport, waiting for my mother to emerge from the terminal. She was still deciding whether she wanted to move to Italy full-time, but we were learning the sex of the baby tomorrow, and she’d gotten a few days off work to be involved.
I clutched Gio’s arm and leaned up on my tiptoes as if that would make her arrive faster. “You said a private flight wouldn’t have this problem.”
He chuckled at my impatience. “I said it would be shorter. We’re still at the Peretola, not my private strip.”
I stuck my tongue out at him just as the door swung open, and my mother emerged, lugging a huge carry-on.
I squealed and raced over to her. Gio followed at a more sedate pace.
She dropped her bag and enfolded me in a hug. “Ugh, I’ve missed you. Every time I come here, moving seems smarter.”
“Good!” I laughed. “Then I’ll keep inviting you. You’re coming after the baby’s born, right?”
