Alright Mere, this here is the story you asked for. xD Although I need a new name for it. :P
Oh, and I almost forgot: Vivian Jane Carrera-McQueen belongs to MissCarrera(id:2944821). This character can be found in her story Family Tidings. :) I do NOT own Vivian, but I have requested permission for use.
La Vita Di Amore
(title pending)
Chapter One
Racing at jaw-dropping speeds has been one of my better talents. Going seventh gear on the straights has never gotten old, even with three years of experience behind me.
I'm testing my team's new Formula One engine at the end of the 2034 season, at the Autodromo Nazionale di Monza. It works great, but it still needs some tweaking. I head for the pit lane as I near the detour, and stop at my pit. I get out, and talk to my team before I head out to rest.
My family greets me as I head out of the pits: my mother, Marlene, my father, Francesco, and my aunt, Margo. They congratulate me on the track, commenting on my driving. As usual, my mother fusses over me, and my auntie leaves me alone. My father, on the other hand, is talking about how I handled the curves better than he did. Pride surges through me.
I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Gianfranco S. Bernoulli, son of the great Francesco Bernoulli and renowned writer Marlene Stevenson-Bernoulli. I'm 21 years old at this point in December. My aunt, Margo, is cousin of my mother's, which makes her my aunt-slash-godmother upon my confirmation(Google 'sacraments' and you'll know). My second cousin, daughter of my godmother/aunt, is nowhere to be seen, along with her father.
"Auntie, where's-?"
"She went off by herself, probably to tinker with the family car again," she said, almost exasperated. "Her father went off to look for her." I grinned. Ercilia was liker her mother and her father: always tinkering and talking about racing.
"Say, Franco," my aunt asks me as we walk to the cars, "ever thought of getting a girlfriend before?"
I almost choke on my mouthful of water. "Auntie, you have got to be joking," I say.
"I was just asking," she said, palms up for innocence.
"I won't have any of that love nonsense," I say. "I don't care what you or my parents say; I'm living the single life."
"Ooh, announced bachelor," she says. "Fine. You're missing out on life."
I shrug. That's what I like about my aunt. She's fun-loving and doesn't pry where she's not wanted, although I have heard that her curiosity killed the cat(her)-well, not actually kill, but you get the point.
I high-five my nineteen-year-old cousin, mussing up her hair as she exclaims happily. She's like her aunt and my mother, really: more boy than girl in there. In the years we've been together, it's like we're brother and sister, like my mother and hers.
"Got into trouble again, eh?" I say.
"Shut up," she growls, and I laugh. Her father is right where the cars are, wondering what his daughter did and how to fix it.
"Having trouble, hon?" my aunt calls.
"She busted the engine again." He flails his arms around, exasperated.
His wife laughs, and takes the tool from his hand, launching herself into mechanic mode. She tweaks a few things, and starts the engine. "She just tinkered with the transmission," she said, looking up at him with a smirk.
"I'm not stupid," he grumbled.
"I never said you were," she replied.
He grinned slightly and kissed her. Both me and my cousin cried 'eww' and the parents laughed.
"Come on guys; you want to be late for the party or not?" my mother calls, and I look to my cousin, who looks back at me.
"Mother!" Ercilia calls. "Can Franco stay with us?" She hasn't even asked me if I want to, but she's always dominant like that.
"Sure," Auntie says as she boards the sleek silver Audi A10 Cabriolet, 2030 model, with its three-section hard top down. She fits a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, and the afternoon sunlight glints off it.
I glance to my father, who's driving the red Ferrari California, also a 2030 model, with its top down. This new model is like the A10: a four-seater cabriolet with a hardtop, just that it's a Ferrari. A mix of the retired FF and the ongoing California, both Grand Tourers, is beautiful.
I slide into the rear seats of the executive car, and my parents lead the way back to the home.
My mother mentioned a party, right? Well, this year, my father is hosting another one of his parties; this time it's a Christmas party, inviting old friends and family to a buffet and an exchange of gifts. The exchanging was sent by email: a number must be picked by the person on the guest list, then the name given to that person for a gift to buy. numbers are checked off the list and not given anymore to the next person in line. It's a slow yet perfect process for people on the other side of the world.
We go home to prepare for the party that should occur tonight. Why I raced today was because one, it was urgent, and two, it was the only day each member of the team would be free. At least everyone in my team lives in Italy; it would be disaster if someone would miss the plane.
As I help my father cook-yes, I've inherited that from my father, and he doesn't really like catering unless it's some party he's pulled out of boredom-my mother, my cousin and her parents, along with our butler, Giacomo, fix up the tree and set up the tables.
Evening drops by, and people I've known for years and people I've just met arrive. While I tend to guests who have started to enjoy the music, food and drink, my parents play host along with Ercilia's, welcoming the guests at the door.
And then, Ercilia is tugging my arm towards the door. Luckily, I have just finished talking with someone, and I indulge my cousin as she pulls me away. There I find Lightning McQueen and his wife Sally.
"Uncle Lightning!" I call him, and we embrace. This man and his wife are good friends with my mother, and are potential godparents of mine at my baptismal.
"How's your old man, Franco?" he says with a pat on my back. "Hope he's not getting drunk again!"
I laugh. My father used to turn to wine when he felt like it. "Nope. He's still sober after all those years," I say.
"So this is young Ercilia," my Aunt Sally calls, eyeing my cousin beside me. "You were just a young girl when I last saw you," she says, embracing her. "Now you've grown to a pretty woman."
My cousin blushes. "Yeah, well," she laughs uneasily. She can't stand praise like that, but takes it to heart. "Thanks."
"Oh, have you met Vivian yet?" Aunt Sally says. "Viv, come out here," she calls, and she sidesteps to reveal a pretty girl in a sweater and jeans, protesting a little.
She has long, flowing golden brown hair, a result of my uncle's blond and my aunt's dark brown hair mixing up. She looks innocent and shy, with a sheepish smile. She's slender and fit, and just a few inches shorter than me. And her eyes…her eyes are blue-green.
And blue-green is my favorite color.
