Chapter 4

"Dad!"

"What? I mind. I won't pretend to not. So who is it?"

Gianna huffed. "No one."

Mason pressured her with his narrow eyes. "I'm not lying." She looked at him in the eyes to prove it.

"Is someone planning to?"

As instantly as possible, Gianna diverted her stare to her half-eaten meal. "No."

"Gianna?" Mason singsonged but his daughter only incessantly stuffed her mouth with more salmon and tomatoes. "You'll end up choking, darling. Who is it?" Gianna carefully chewed per minute. "Oh wait, let me take a guess. It's Seth, isn't it?"

She said nothing.

"I knew it!" He settled a fisted hand on his lips. "You're inviting him home for dinner any of these days."

"Da—" with wide eyes, Gianna swallowed first, drank some water, and went on, "dad! He's not even made a move yet and possibly might not."

"He better not." Gianna frowned. Mason knew he was going too far with the protective card. Not the way he and Louisa had planned. At that rate, he'll only end up scaring her from opening up to either of them more than she already did. A bellowing image of his wife canvassed his mind. He cleared his throat. "I mean not so soon. You know, sometimes—most times you're childhood friend doesn't end up being your lifetime match."

Hopefully, experience helped him save his daughter. 

"I understand that you're undergoing a crucial part of your teenage years and rapidly driving towards adulthood and with it comes a whole lot of excitement." Mason leaned forward. "Gianna, you're a very smart kid. You're old enough to take decisions on your own with or without my or your mum's viewpoint, all I can do now is chunk in support where necessary. Whatever the case, do not by any means precipitate a decision as it might go a long way to affect you either positively or negatively."

"And also, know that your mum and I are always here for you and Petra too, Okay?" Gianna bobbed. "I love you, darling."

"I love you too, dad," the pair smiled at each other. 

"Eat up," he checked his watch. "Goodness, I'm the worst date ever. Your mum will surely burn down the town tonight."

"I'm done. What's the time?"

Mason sucked in air through clenched teeth as he bent to retrieve his wallet. "Twenty past eight."

Gianna smiled. "What's funny? Let me warn you, this might be the last time I'm taking out on a date because of this." He counted some bills.

"I don't mind. This is the best date ever and might be the only one with a daring cavalier to pass the curfew if a dear dad doesn't threaten a poor dear life to come, that is."

"That's right and hopefully, it remains the best even after the unwelcomed boys to come." He deposited the bills on the table, stood up with a ready-to-be hooked curved elbow. 

"That's a whole lot of tip," she noticed as she received her dad's invitation.

"That's another way to support our dear neighbors." He saluted Sean from a distance with a thumbs up before they departed.

*

"H-how was it?" Mimie gleefully asked. 

"Great." Gianna shut her locker.

"That's it?"

"Mimie, that was a father-daughter date, not a boyfriend-girlfriend date. So no juice," she elucidated.

"I know, b-but I still wish to know."

Singly-handed by her mother for ten years, Gianna didn't understand why Mimie was so antsy to get details about her date with a grieving heart even though the nerd had denied times without number that her immediacy with her late father wasn't that powerful as he spent most of his time working at the bakery. Once Baker Bakes now Trendy Sprinkles Corner after her mum auctioned it against Mimie's wish.

"Well, we talked," Gianna launched. "About my school life, love life, and friends." Mimie looked at her with dreamy stares. "We were so embarked that we didn't see the time running and guess what?" Gianna chuckled. "My mum literally joined the guards outside the gate, a flashlight in hand, and bloodshot eyes waiting for us."

Mimie laughed.

Gianna dropped her backpack beside her desk. "You needed to see her. I mean, she pointed the flashlight in my dad's eyes like a cop and was like, 'young man, you're one hour late. You gotta watch or not? 'Cuz if you hadn't, you shoulda left my daughter home.'" Gianna mimicked her mother's expressions and actions.

Mimie laughed even more.

"Girl I cracked up just as much as you." She unpacked a book and placed it on her desk. "You won't believe who I saw at the restaurant."

Mimie wiped a stray tear. "Who?"

Gianna scrutinized her environment to make sure there wasn't a lurking ear around although the wind on its own could carry away her words. She shielded her mouth with her hand and mouthed, "Sean."

Surprised that Mimie didn't look stunned, Gianna asked, "what, you knew about it too?"

"Yeah. Everyone knows that, well so I thought until today. Sean's be-been working at Spring's dinner since freshman while K-Kelly delivers her mother's delicious pastries to Tre-Trendy Sprinkle Corners in the early morning hours and d-does the dishes at Mackhie's in the evenings."

Gianna's mouth dropped. "Why am I knowing all this only now?"

"Because you care less a-about the history of your t-town," Mimie shrugged.

"Uh, Mimie?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you tell Sean about the book donation project?" There was no other way to put it given that Mimie was one of Sean's preys because of her closeness to Gianna.

"No. Only registered m-members are aware, that's; You," she finger counted. "Judith, Meredith, Luke, Maddie, and...Kelly."

"Kelly? Why am I not aware of this too?"

"I'm sorry, it slip-slipped my mind. She called me on S-saturday to enroll and g-guess what? She of-offered book deliveries. Life made e-easy," She squealed. "P-plus, she's opted to des-design the flyers. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah. It's...great." Mimie must have forgotten or expunged her earlier idea of selecting the designs and supervising the printing of flyers. No big deal, regardless.

Mr. Rutherford's presence hushed the rowdiness as everyone scrambled to their respective seats. After a casual greeting, he jotted down the subject matter and dove right into it. Homeostasis wasn't her cup of tea.

Gianna wondered back on Mimie's words but hardly concluded how the McCarthy's state of living had something to do with the past. Perhaps if she dug a little bit into it she will understand why Sean disliked her so much. That being thought, the library was her next stop.

"You're late again, Mr. Brown," Mr. Rutherford refrained from sketching heaven knew what to plaster his attention to a heavily breathing class jock in curly cinnamon brown hair and ever so confident, dazzling cloudy grey eyes.

"Yeah, uh...I slept in. Again. As always. Sorry." 

Mr. Rutherford gestured his head for him to take a seat as well as for his talking jamboree to proceed.

"Lunch today?" Mimie and the diths stood before her after the second class of the day was over.

"Oh, no," Gianna hurriedly packed. "I'll preferably spend this time together with my free period immediately after that in the library." She swung her bag over her shoulder. "See you girls later."

After zooming past the librarian, Gianna trudged between the massive book-filled shelves with the lingering hints of mustiness until she spotted a capitalized title of interest along Philipstown's history rank; COLDSPRING AS OF THE 1600s.

She concentrated her weight on her toes as shortly as she reached the thick volumed book that looked worn out. Gianna comfortably settled in an isolated corner speculating on where to start. The impatient girl, seduced by laziness, decided to randomly flip through the black and white picture graced book when a set of bold letters snatched her scrutiny.

PRESTIGIOUS AND NOBLE LAUNCHERS OF COLDSPRING, PHILIPSTOWN, NY.

Below was a handful of names, biography, and their achievements, very few had photos of the achievers. Gianna finger-scanned the first page and found no McCarthy. She searched in the next five pages, still no result. Gianna altered her manner of approach as she searched for Vladimir instead and there it shone on the second of the five pages of concern.

No photo, yet, beneath his name was an endless scroll of achievements.

Andrei Vladimir Vyacheslav.

Was a Russian foreigner to Philipstown, Putnam County, NY in the 1720s. Born and bred in Moscow by a chauffeur and a housewife, Andrei was the second of six children. In the search for greener pastures, the young man was charmed by the splendor of the little town of barely one thousand inhabitants and decided to settle for the best and began to accustom with the locals. 

In '45, Andrei fell into the allures of a beautiful and noble maiden—Karla Nobit— the only child of a baron whom he wedded seven months later and together, had three bouncy boys; Randy, Frank, and Victor. Under the influence of Karla's father, Andrei learned the language of business, the world of bills, and dwelled in the home of bargains.

In '60, Andrei became one of Cold Spring's most successful and wealthiest businessmen who supported the town on many occasions; collaborated with the Jones family in operating the woolen mill enterprise, fundraised charities, constructed and managed inns, banks, and even owned vast pieces of territory handed over by his father-in-law.

His first son, Randy, was initiated at the young age of seventeen. Subsequent to his father's footsteps, he maintained what was, and went extra miles in signing contracts with John and Walter R. Jones brothers for the shipping of his local products through the first steamboat company they incorporated at the east side of the harbor.

The Cold Spring molder departed to the land of his ancestors at eighty-one, in 1771. 

Gianna, who found the tale interesting and intriguing so much that she read past her free period, decided to sign the book out. It didn't answer her itchy question, yet it unwrapped a whole different field of fresher ones like, how did the McCarthy's, if at all they really were a lineage of Andrei Vladimir, get to the bottom line?

Disclaimer: the history of Cold Spring as read above is partly and not partly made up.