A Matter of Pride {Dom}

[JENNIE LEIJON]

There was something in her jewelry box that was important, and trash all at the same time. She could have easily cashed those rings in and gotten quite a pretty penny for them; but every time she held the heavy rings in her hands--she just couldn't part with them. They reminded her of a better time, something special to her. Granted one day she'd have to get rid of them one day. She didn't want them on her hands anymore, she didn't want them in her family. But it wasn't time to part with it; not while it was still a security blanket.

However there had been momentarily a spike of panic before bed the last night--when she reached into that little corner of her jewelry box, they were gone. They stood out amongst the rest of her jewelry. She preferred colored stones, pearls, and simple jewelry. The ring shined from a mile away, and was something she never would have picked out for herself, but it somehow suited her. The jewelry rattled when she pushed them around looking for the rings. But nothing. She drew in a deep breath--she was tired. They were staring her in the face, but she was too tired to see it. Obviously. Comforting herself with that thought, she clicked off the light and went to bed.

When she awoke the next morning, she spent a good portion of her time looking for that ring. Not that it was important to her, but that was a valuable ring. Her lips set into a frown. Nothing else was missing, but with those stones staring them in the face, who would want to take anything else? There were two people potientially able to take them. Dominic and the babysitter. She wasn't sure how to ask Dom if he had taken the rings from her failed marriage. So, she'd question the babysitter first. But for now, she needed her mind off of the stress that the missing rings were causing. And the best way to do that was to spend time with Dom.

Putting on a cheery face, she announced that they would be going out to have a pretzel in the park. Fresh air would clear her head, and apparently Dom needed to talk to her about a project he was working on for school. Sending him off to get dressed, she gave a quick look under the couch cushions, before the search turned up empty. Figures. Her brows set for a moment, and shook her head before checking her purse and slinging it over her shoulder as she waitd on her son. The rings weren't important. She kept telling herself that--maybe them being gone was a good thing now. Someone took them without knowing the story, so maybe they could be something fresh and new. If that was true, then why did her chest hurt?

Running her hands across her face for a moment, she checked her phone before turning it on silent. Days off were days off. After landing the important job here in New York, she made a promise to Dom. Days off were days off. She was not about to deprive her child of having a relationship with his mother because work was too important. It also helped her from burning out--maybe one day when Dom got older, she'd explain how much he saved her. If Dom hadn't come into her life, where would she be now? Still married to Frankie? Where would that have gone? No, Dom was a blessing. One day he'd know that.

"You ready yet, kitten?"

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ooc; Outfit p.s. teehee. Lion pun in the title. I am so clever.

[DOMINIC LEIJON]

Dominic Leijon --- =^.^=

He liked how the light reflected on the stone. He liked the rainbows to dance on his wall. It was almost as if they were happy- like the stone caught all of Momma's happy and stored it there like left over pasta. It wasn't hard to figure out what the rings were. Grown ups always thought they were so clever, when really they weren't clever at all. It was more flashy than all of Momma's other 'tasteful' pieces. Momma always seemed to be chasing after the thing called taste, which was not to mean taste like food. Obviously she couldn't eat clothes and shoes and jewelry. Dominic assumed having good taste meant liking whatever Momma's bosses said was important to like. And Momma did. All of the magazine covers seemed to copy what she wanted to wear the month before. But this piece was big- big like the celebrities that people got mad at for having too big jewelry. And Dominic knew that when Mother's got married, Father's bought them rings. Thus...

this was Momma's wedding ring.

Dominic Leijon- who had his Mother's surname, like five other kids had their Mothers names in his kindergarten class- did not know his Father. All he knew was that the man had been married to Momma, that he had been involved in a special way in making Dominic, and that Saba thought he was a ben shel elef zona, which Momma says Dominic was not allowed to repeat. Beyond that all Dominic could observe was that his Mother really just didn't want to talk about it. He was not a rude child, even if he was not always polite, and he was quite shrewd. Thus, he didn't try to bring it up. Even if not knowing the man would cause 'long term sidekicklogical problems' for Dom in the future.

While he wasn't scared of these problems, they didn't exactly sound pleasant.

At the moment, having no sidekicklogical problems at the moment to his knowledge, Dominic instead laid on his simple navy bedding (Momma had tried to get him to pick out Spongebob or Blue's Clues, but Dominic wasn't a baby and rather liked navy, thank you) with the ring clutched in his palm. As he was not fond of playing outside, he still wore the clothes he went to school in that day. Simple khaki shorts that hung above his knees, a plaid button down, a navy sweater, green sneakers, and- as an indulgence- dinosaur underwear. But dinosaurs weren't for babies, firmly decided after watching Jurassic Park, and so were acceptable attire. He felt warm in his belly when he held the ring, touched the stone, or traced the inner ring. Like he could absorb the residual happiness.

Today Momma had the day off though, so his time with the ring which-was-now-claimed-to-be-his-as-Momma-never-wore-it-anyway was cut a bit short. She came into his room and he stared up at her with round blue eyes that were slightly too far apart. Ready to go on their ritual walk, where they would go through the list and hold hands. How is school? Did you make friends? Did you eat all of your lunch? Et cetra, Et cetra. The list was important to Momma, because talking to Dom was hard. The hands were important to Dominic, because she had the softest hands and Dominic liked soft things. Nodding, he tightened his sneakers and extended his hand obligingly, for she could never know that the hands were for him more than her. "What am I?" He asked, beginning conversation with no provocation today.

[JENNIE LEIJON]

Seeing the little hand extended towards her never failed to make her smile. She was his mother, and yet he seemed to be strong enough for the both of them. Even though she did her best to never show her weakness in front of him, he did more to help her keep going than he could possibly know. Her gentle hands wrapped around his. Just a few, all-too-short years ago, his hand was so small that she could encase it with one of her own hands. Still small, his fingers were growing longer. They really weren’t kidding when they said that they grow up way too fast.

There was a time that she, and all of her sisters rebelled from their parents. As was typical, and that scared Jennie just enough to make her absolutely treasure the moments of his little hand clinging to hers. Him not yet being old enough to be embarrassed by her presence. She leaned down for just a moment to kiss his soft hand, and then his cheek. Luckily for Dom, today was a day when Jennie decided to not wear makeup. That meant no lipstick to smear across his pale cheek.

With his hand in hers, she guided him out of the building, before glancing down at him when he asked her a question.
Had he been any other child, the answer would have been simple enough. You’re a boy. You’re a silly goose. You’re momma’s little star. Any of those would have worked for an ordinary child. However, Dominic was no ordinary child. And therefore, Jennie knew better than to give him some generic, half-baked response like that. No—Dom would not be having any of that, and if she downplayed his intelligence, it might be more of a headache to her later on in the day. No one told her a mother was going to be this hard, but then again—no one could quite expect Dominic Ezra Leijon.

“Well, let’s see. Safta is from Israel, which makes her Israeli. Saba is also from Irsrael, but his momma was from Germany.” Down her family line, it was a mix of Israelis, and various people of different cultures coming in to mix every few generations. The paler mixes in her family resulted in Jennie having a more Caucasian face, with a muted Israeli olive skin tone. Her eyes set a bit wide on her face, and there was something about her face that bordered on exotic, however she would have been able to pass against any background. However, that didn’t quite explain Dominic’s paleness, or his sharper features that Jennie didn't have. He seemed to be the perfect melting pot of his mother and father. But clever little Jennie decided not to say that out loud. “So you’re German and Israeli.” Also Italian. After saying it, she gave a little smile. Ohh, when her son hit puberty he might just think he was going to turn into a werewolf.

Trying to keep from giggling at the idea, she turned that happy smile down to him as they casually strolled down along the sidewalk. The pretzel stand was a few blocks up. The day was nice, not too cold, not too hot. A gentle breeze rolled through the air. Perfect weather for a steaming hot pretzel with cheese. “Why do you ask?” She questions back curiously. Hopefully this had to do with the project he was supposed to be working on. Because questions about family tended to lead towards Frankie somehow, and Jennie wasn’t quite ready to let Dom in on that information just yet.

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ooc; Outfit p.s. teehee. Lion pun in the title. I am so clever.

[DOMINIC LEIJON]

Dominic Leijon --- =^.^=

Instinctively, he used his free hand to wipe the kiss, whether away or in depended on the day. Today was an in day, and he kept pace with his Mother as she began to answer the question. It was an unsatisfying question, filling him up like a dinner of boiled chicken and dressing-less lettuce. The long and short being, not at all. He already knew that Saba was quite proud of being partially a German Jew, though why tended to escape him. Saba was just a proud man, he decided fondly. A man who combined Hebrew and Yiddish insults when someone annoyed him, and who considered himself quite frugal. Safta was a soft spoken woman. Once, when Dom had been silly enough to question Safta's power (he had called Saba the boss, a wrong move in a female dominant household), she explained that the best sort of power was the quiet sort.

He didn't know why the quiet sort was the best. But he imagined when he found out it would be quite profound.

However, locating deep meaning in his mother's occasionally cryptic statements was not the goal today. Today he needed to know what he was. On both sides. "I already knew those ones Momma. What else am I?" There was a certain impatience to his words. Honestly, it wasn't like he was four anymore. He was nearly six.

They reached the pretzel stand and Dominic waited eagerly for his treat. He was never a child who enjoyed an abundance of sweets. They made his stomach ache. However salt was a terrible vice of his. As a toddler his nastiest habit was rubbing boogers on his Mother's expensive living room set. It was rubbing saliva dissolved cheetos on the carpet after he had sucked the artificial cheese and salt out of the suckers. Needless to say, white carpet was soon replaced with something more 'kid friendly'. Still, there was a petulant expectation to his face as he waited for her answer.

As much as he was a Vulpini- though he was not certain of the name of his paternal side- he was also a Leijon. It was in this moment that Jennie could take some comfort for his eyes looked strikingly like hers when she was kept waiting. "Aunt Jasmine said that he was Catholic. Is he Irish? Kayla Murray is Irish Catholic, and Benjamin Day says that's why she likes potatoes so much. I like potatoes..." While he told himself that he was not in need of a Father figure, no matter hoe many of Jennie's suitors seemed to think themselves fit for the job, he would be remiss to say he wasn't curious. There was something so painfully mysterious about it, and Dominic hate hate hated feeling like he was ignorant. "Why wasn't he Jewish? Am I Catholic too?"

[JENNIE LEIJON]

Jennie hated these sort of questions. "Two salt pretzels please. One mustard, one cheese." Flashing a sweet smile, and withdrawing a bill from her back pocket, she paid for the pretzles, and handed Dom the mustard and the boiled bread, before leading him to a nearby bench. It was always safer to sit and eat. As mature as he could seem, Dominic was still a kid. And there was still a nasty habit of messes happening.

Listening to her son speak as she ripped the pretzel and dipped it in the melted cheese, she decided that she was going to have a talk with Jasmine about what was said when outside of her company. Just because Jasmine was older, didn't mean she could go on blabbering about Frankie when she wasn't around. "No, not Irish." Jennie said carefully, eating the small bit of pretzel. It was normal that Dom would have questions about his father.

Unfortunately, there was no distraction that Jennie could provide to change his attention , and she looked down to meet his eyes. Leaning over to kiss his cheek again, she sighed one of her many sighs. "You're Jewish. Safta and Saba gave you a Tvilah, and when you're older if you choose to continue with that, you'll study the Torah and have a Bar Mitzvah. But that's up to you." Jennie smiled, and picked at her pretzel, plucking off one of the large pieces of salt, and placing it on her tongue. For some reason--pretzel salt was the best kind. "Your father..." Jennie pressed her lips in a thin line. She didn't quite like that word for Frankie. After all, he had no idea he has a son, so how could he even be a father?

"He's Italian on his dad's side. And English on his mother's." Short, sweet, and simple. Another piece of pretzel went into her mouth as she looked up towards the sky. There was a slight pang in her chest at the thought. Things could have been so different, and yet...perhaps this was the way things were better off. "Anything else?" Her gaze finally was brought back down to the tiny copy of Frankie. For a long time she managed to seperate the resemblances; though bringing it all up caused her to pinpoint it all again. The shape of his lips, the set of his brows. He also had the high cheekbones, and more of a long face, as where Jennie had a small, heart-shaped one. "When you're older, if you want to find him we'll look together. Okay?" It was a means to stop the questions. But Dominic was a funny child, and sometimes pretended to ignore certain things.

"Today is Dominic Day. Did you want to go to the book store? Or the game shop?"

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ooc; Outfit p.s. teehee. Lion pun in the title. I am so clever.

[DOMINIC LEIJON]

Dominic Leijon --- =^.^=

Following his Mother to the bench, Dominic was plucking the salt off from his pretzel. She was dodging. Momma was good at that when Dominic asked questions his Safta called unpleasant. Sitting, he started dipping the pretzel in his mustard. He was not immune to the clumsiness of his age, no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, and soon mustard was smeared around his lips. The yellow hit the sun, contrasting against his condensed milk skin. But still he managed to keep it off his shirt. "A Tvilah is just a baptism, Momma." His know-it-all tone sifted through. "And that's just a bath everyone makes too big of a deal out of... Did they really cut off the tip of my weiner, because Jeremy Atchkinson says that's what happens when Jew's are born. I told him I didn't have no cut or nothin, but he said it-" His eyes narrowed, realizing he had gone off his own path. "You're trying to distract me."

Finally though, a straight answer. He mulled over the words carefully, trying to piece together his own bits and pieces. German, Israeli, Italian, and English. Questions seared through his mind meticulously, filing automatically into what order he wanted to ask them in. Truly, it was her fault, inviting him to ask on. "Is he Italian like the tembel people on the Jersey Shore, or like them painter guys? Could he speak Italian? What kinda wedding did you have? Is he orange? Did his Momma have an accent like Mary Poppins? What's it mean to be English? Is that just white people? Are you sure she's English, cause Scotland's on the same ground? What kinda stuff is in Italia and England? Do they always let the Momma's raise the babies?" And with an exhale he waited for her responses, chewing on his soft pretzel.

Of course he had a natural curiosity when it came to his Father. While he rarely spoke directly of the man, he did wonder certain things. Who did he look more like? What was him and his family like? Did they not want Dom? Did he do something bad? He couldn't remember doing anything bad. He wondered if his Grandfather, who was apparently Italian, looked like a Santa Clause Grandpa. He wondered if they celebrated Christmas, and if they had a proper tree and stockings. While having a bush was rather practical, it seemed to have a less magical quality. He wondered if he would like being Catholic more than being Jewish, or if it's basically the same. He'd been to temple a few times with Saba and Safta, and it was horribly boring. All the Hebrew spoken was not in curse words, so Dom's understanding was limited to the bits he picked up from Safta nagging Saba about something.

But, of course, he never asked those because they would make Momma sad.

"This is fine. I like questions." He informed, as if she would not be incredibly aware of this trait in her son by now.

[JENNIE LEIJON]

Jennie disguised a smile with another bite of pretzel as Dominic went off on his tangent about Jeremy. Granted, she didn't want to discuss that particular topic with her son, it was somewhat better than talking about Frankie. And though he didn't stay on that tangent for long--when he realized that she had tricked him, she did manage to have a smug little smile as she looked down at him. It amused her when she managed to one-up him; typically, she let Dominic win. It would suffice to say that he was a spoiled child, and got away with most of what he wanted. But it still managed to make her giggle when his age showed through his maturity.

But giving him an answer unleashed a whole new can of worms. Bursts of questions she had learned to expect. One, being his mother. Two, being an older sister. Jennie couldn't quite remember all of the questions that he asked, however a few stuck in her memory. Shifting her pretzel, she rolled back a sleeve on her sweater, and pressed her naturally tanned arm against Dominic's. "You have his skin. You aren't dark, like me. English means you're from England, but she sounds like you and me. No, he doesn't speak Italian." The idea of Frankie getting off his ass enough to speak another language was entertaining. Though, chances are Dominic would have been born a lot sooner if Frankie did know how to speak Italian. "And it's Italy, not Italia."

If momma's raised the babies, then maybe things would have been different. But as it would seem, the Vulpini men were the rulers in the house. For the most part, Jennie had gone with Frankie's opinion. But it was clear that she was no push-over typical woman, and it had led to some heated arguments between the two. Olivia seemed meek at times in the presence of Senior. And even though Jennie remembered that question, since it was the last that Dominic asked--she pretended to forget it. "I'll show you pictures of Italy and England when we get home."

At least the questions had been answered for the most part. They were more about the places and the people, rather than specifically Frankie. It was a little easier than she had expected. Sometimes, being a mother felt like all the energy and the strength was being drained out of her. Always having to choose your words carefully. Understand what your child could and could not handle. It was a little puzzle every moment of every day. More often than not lately, she had been wishing that she could make things work between her and Frankie. That things could have been simpler, easier. But this was the hand she was dealt. And that meant that she had to deal with the onslaught of questions. Seriously--did Dominic even breathe?

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ooc; Outfit p.s. teehee. Lion pun in the title. I am so clever.