Chapter 1

King

The bells of St Martin de Porres Church chimed in the morning summer air, calling everyone in to gather for Sunday Service. This was our tradition, a cornerstone of our week, a moment to reconnect with God and each other. 

Inside the grand, sun lit sanctuary, we filled an entire pew, our presence a comforting constant in the community.

Nonna Biachi sat at one end, her rosary slipping silently through her fingers as she prayed. Beside her was Zia, father's sister, who shared a hymnbook with the twins, Luca and Lucia. The two children were impeccably dressed and fidgeting slightly but settled under Zia’s steady gaze. Ma sat next to the twins with her hands folded in prayer, her face peaceful yet distant. Brick, sharp in his tailored suit, sat beside Ladi, watching over the family like a quiet sentinel.

I sat at the other end of the pew with Krystal, our fingers intertwined. Ma Martinez and Krystal’s uncle were beside us, fitting seamlessly into the family. Ladi sat beside Ma, occasionally glancing at her planner tucked discreetly in her bag, her thoughts flitting between faith and her to-do list.

The worship service was solemn and joyful, the sermon touching on new beginnings and the importance of perseverance. When it ended, the family lingered in the courtyard, greeting old friends and chatting with the priest before heading to Zia’s house for Sunday dinner.

Zia’s home was a cozy haven with the smell of fresh herbs and roasting meat wafting from the kitchen. This was where the family gathered each Sunday without fail. The dining table was already set, and the centerpiece was a bouquet of lilies that Nonna had picked from her garden.

As everyone found their seats, the room filled with chatter and laughter. The twins argued playfully over who would get the last piece of garlic bread. Brick teased Ladi about her meticulously planned schedule for the week, and Krystal helped Zia bring in plates of steaming lasagna.

When everyone had settled, I stood at the head of the table, my presence commanding yet humble. As I raised my hands, signaling for silence. The family bowed their heads, and I began to pray.

“Heavenly Father,” I started, my voice steady and warm, “we come to You today as one family, grateful for the many blessings You’ve given us. Thank You for this meal, prepared with love by Zia, and for the chance to gather here, surrounded by those who mean the most to us.

“Thank You for Krystal and her family, for the love and joy they bring into our lives. Thank you for giving Brick and me the strength and the opportunity to begin my last semester of college and for the wisdom to guide me in my next steps.

“We ask for Your blessing on Ladi and the twins as they prepare for a new school year. Let them face their challenges with courage and their successes with humility. Bless Luca and Lucia as they take the next steps in their education and Ladi as she continues to shine and inspire us all.

“And Lord, thank You for my mother, Leolani, who shows us every day what it means to be strong and faithful. Thank You for Nonna, Zia, and everyone at this table who keeps this family together. We ask that You watch over us in the week to come and keep us united in love and faith. Amen.”

A chorus of “Amen” echoed around the table, and the family began to eat. The room buzzed with warmth and affection, everyone savoring not just the food but the shared moments of connection.