Turning the Tables: From Housewife to Inmate and Back Again (12 page)

We went to the federal courthouse in Newark the day after the indictment was announced, to face our charges. This was so surreal to me. I had never been in trouble in my life—and now this? On the car ride over, I felt sick to my stomach. I looked at Joe, who seemed very stoic and strong. He kept telling me everything was going to be OK. I couldn’t believe we were going to court. I had no idea what to expect.

When we got out of the car, the media pounced. Helicopters buzzed overhead as reporters and photographers surrounded us, shoving their cameras, microphones, and tape recorders at us as we walked into the federal courthouse, pushing into us and yelling question after question. I felt beyond overwhelmed when I saw all those camerapeople and reporters there. I got upset when someone shoved a camera right in Joe’s face. On a stressful day like this, it seemed totally unnecessary. I couldn’t believe how many people were waiting for
us
, especially at a moment like this. It was insane. This kind of pushing and shoving was something I had seen on TV and in the movies, but I was actually living it and it all felt like a bad dream.

I held on tight to Joe’s hand as we walked toward the front doors. I hoped my girls wouldn’t see this on TV later on and that no one in school would tell them about it. I didn’t want to worry our parents, either. I thought the stress from all of this would just be too much for them. My parents didn’t know the full extent of what was going on. I just told them that everything was going to be OK. They told me that they knew who their daughter was—someone honest and with good values—and that’s what mattered. Looking back, I wish that was all that truly counted in court.

After we surrendered to the federal government for the indictment and were processed, we were each released on a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bond. We had to hand over our passports and were not allowed to leave New Jersey or New York without permission from the federal government. When we left the courthouse, we were greeted once again by the media circus waiting outside for us. I held my head high as I made my way through the crowd to our car, getting jostled along the way, but staying quiet. Joe and I didn’t say a word to anyone, even though they kept shouting questions at us. I wanted to cry, but I stayed strong. I had to. I knew this was just the beginning of a long, hard, scary road. I had to keep it together, especially for my girls and my parents.

When we got home, I went about my day as usual, even though I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier. My children didn’t know where we had been that day, because they were in school. I was home when they got home. Everything was good. I helped them with their homework, took them to their activities, came home and made dinner for them, and got them ready for bed.

After the girls fell asleep, I wanted to go to bed, too. It was maybe 10 p.m. and I was exhausted, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the indictment, much as I tried to forget it. My mind was going a thousand miles an hour. I couldn’t remember when I had last been this stressed, if ever. I could barely eat because my stomach was tied up in knots. As tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep because I was so worried about the nightmare swirling around us. I am a worrier and all I could think about was what would happen to Joe and my parents and, most of all, my precious daughters. I put up a strong front for my girls and didn’t say a word to them about what was going on. My babies are my world and I didn’t want them to know how terrified I really was. I had put on a stone face many a time on the show to hide my true feelings, and now I was doing it at home. I had no choice. I didn’t want to scare them, but the reality of it all was overwhelming.

I had told
People
magazine in 2012 that the hardest part of being famous was “being scrutinized. It’s hard being judged when people don’t really know you.” With everything going on with our case, I felt this was truer than ever. I felt that people were making assumptions about me based on what they had seen and read about me. So many stories that had been written about me were untrue—and the way I was portrayed on the show was not the real me at all, just me at some of my worst moments. But that’s what people saw.

People asked me if Joe and I were treated differently after the indictment, but we weren’t, thank God. Not by the people we were close to, who knew we were good people and loved us no matter what. We were lucky to have that support from people close to us, including the girls’ teachers and their friends’ parents. They would tell us they were praying for us, which really touched my heart. Even strangers in stores would come up to me and tell me they were rooting for us.

Not everyone was so open-minded. The indictment was killing my businesses. While the liquor stores that sold Fabellini continued to do so, new stores wouldn’t take it. They said they needed to see what happened first. The same thing happened with BJ’s and Costco, which were going to carry my dessert line and my specialty food line including pasta, olive oil, olives, and marinara sauce. They wanted to wait, too. I was supposed to go on HSN to sell my hair care line, but they told me that now wasn’t a good time. The indictment torpedoed that deal, too. I had spent so much time and energy building my businesses, and now they were almost dead in the water.

Since I wasn’t running around to business meetings or events anymore, I was spending most of my time with Joe and my daughters, trying to maintain my normal routine as best I could. That was hard, though, when I kept seeing stories about our ordeal in magazines, newspapers, and on the Internet and TV. I would be standing in line at the grocery store and glance at the magazine rack—and there I was! It was also difficult to forget what was going on since we had to meet with our lawyers so much. The whole thing sent ice through my veins, and avoidance was the only real way I could cope.

On August 14, 2013, we returned to court for our arraignment and entered our pleas: not guilty. Our trial was set for October 8. I was scared about what would happen in court, but kept praying that everything would be OK and stayed strong. I knew I couldn’t fold, because my daughters and my parents were depending on me. So Joe and I did our best to keep things as normal as possible at home. I kept up a brave front because I had to. If you didn’t know me or know about all the legal problems Joe and I were facing, you wouldn’t have thought that anything was going on with me. I just kept life the way it always was with my family.

We continued to film Season 6, though the case was weighing heavily on us. I just tried to stay as positive as possible and go on about my life. We celebrated our anniversary that year by going to dinner and keeping the conversation light. We talked about what the kids were up to, some funny thing Milania said that made us laugh, and how our parents were doing. We tried not to think about everything we were facing, but it was always in the back of our minds. Until you are in a situation like this, you just don’t understand how much it weighs on you every single moment of every single day.

On November 18, 2013, our situation grew even more serious when we were indicted on two more charges—bank fraud and loan application fraud. Two days later, we pleaded not guilty to those charges. Now I was feeling more anxious than ever. At that point, our trial had been moved to February 14, 2014. What a
fantastic
way to spend Valentine’s Day.

By the good grace of God, along the way, thirty-two of the thirty-six counts against me in the indictment were dropped. Around this time, Joe and I met with our lawyers, who advised us to enter a plea deal that the government had offered us. On March 4, 2014, we went to court, where I pleaded guilty to the remaining charges: one count of conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud and three counts of bankruptcy fraud for concealment, false oaths, and false declarations.

The scariest part was learning that Joe could be sent to prison for three to four years, and that I could go away for two years. I was hoping I would get probation or home confinement. The thought of leaving my girls killed me. They were my life and they needed their mother.

We were all dealt another huge blow when Joe’s dad passed away unexpectedly on June 18, 2014. Joe was devastated—and so was I. I still can’t believe he is gone. He had so much energy and he was such a vibrant man—always happy and full of life. He would always be the first one on the dance floor at any party and entertain the crowd by doing a split in the middle of the action, laughing the whole time. I have a picture of him and Gia dancing on New Year’s Eve. She was already trying to wrap her mind around the legal trouble we were in, so the loss of her grandfather was a lot for a thirteen-year-old to handle.

We were grateful, though, that we had gotten to spend Father’s Day with him just two days earlier. He wanted the entire family at his house. He was happy because he was able to make pizzas for us for the first time in his new brick oven outside. He ran around taking selfies with everyone. Thank God we took a lot of pictures that day.

My father-in-law was at our house the week he died, building a rabbit coop in our yard for bunnies he and Joe were going to get the girls. June 18 was a busy day for us. It was the last day of school for Gia, Gabriella, and Milania. Audriana was also graduating from preschool, so I was running around buying her flowers to give to her at her graduation. When the other girls got home, the three youngest girls and I headed to Milania’s friend’s house to go swimming in her pool.

While we were there, I called the assistant at Joe’s attorney’s office to ask him something. He told me he had just spoken to Joe, who sounded seriously upset about something having to do with his father. With shaking fingers I hung up the phone and called Joe right away, praying everything was OK. It wasn’t.

Joe told me that his father had died—outside of our house. Joe was working outside in the front yard and only saw his father’s truck parked on the side of the house when he went to get some tools in our garage. He called for his father, and when he walked around to the side of the house, he found him lying facedown on the ground next to his truck. Joe called 911 before he knelt down, trying as hard as he could to revive his dad by splashing water on his face and pushing on his chest. He said he was crying and yelling for his father to open his eyes. But he didn’t.

When Joe told me he found his father on the ground, I started screaming and crying into the phone. I told Joe I would be right home. My daughters heard me and came running over, asking, “Mommy—what’s wrong?” I said, “I think something happened to Nonno Franco.” I hugged the girls and left them with Milania’s friend’s mom, who was kind enough to watch them, because I didn’t want them to see what was going on at home. I had my friend John, who was also there, drive me to my house because I was so hysterical.

When we got there, the driveway was packed with cop cars and an ambulance. When I got out of the car, I ran past the yellow police tape and over to Joe, in tears. He buried his head in my shoulder as we both stood there, hugging each other and sobbing. He was crying, “My dad, my dad . . .” over and over. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. His father was so important to us. We loved him so much, and now he was gone when we needed him the most. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. What mattered was that one of our loved ones was gone, forever.

Little by little the whole family started to come over. This was the worst day of my life—it was the first time someone who was so dear to my heart had died. I had never been to a funeral home to make arrangements for someone so close to me, but I went with Joe and his family to arrange it all. My heart was broken for my husband and my daughters, who had never lost a close relative before either. They adored their Nonno. I had no idea why this had happened—at a time that was already so tough.

Joe found his father around 5 p.m. but thinks he had been there for several hours. Gia was inside when Joe found his dad, and he told her not to come outside. The strange thing is that we didn’t even know my father-in-law was coming over that day. He never told me or Joe. He parked his truck on the side of the garage, way in the back. In the summer our yard gets very lush, and the greenery grows high on the side of the garage, so neither of us saw his truck or even knew he was back there. We don’t even know when he got there. I feel like God wanted his father to be with Joe and that that’s where his father wanted to be. I also think God didn’t want me there, because we usually never go to friends’ houses after school. God knew that, at this point in my life, I was not strong enough to see my father-in-law like that.

At his wake, Gia stood by her dad during the entire afternoon and evening sessions, as he stood vigil by the casket. She is an amazing daughter. I couldn’t believe how strong she was. She told me she wanted to be there for her dad. My husband and father-in-law were only twenty years apart and so close, and as his death was sudden, it really was a new level of grief for all of us.

I’m crying even as I am writing this. Joe’s father was there for us through everything—the good and the bad. He came to court to support us and put up the money for Joe’s bond. He was truly like a second dad to me. I love him so much. We all do.

That summer, we mourned the loss of Joe’s father while we just kept trying to put one foot in front of the other. I started filming again in the fall, which was good, although I didn’t like it when some of my fellow cast members brought up our case on the show. I didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it to anyone except Joe, my parents, my closest friends, and my lawyer. I didn’t want to share my worst fears with people I barely knew, let alone on TV.

When sentencing day arrived, I did everything I could to stay strong, but those were, of course, some of the most terrifying hours of my life. Joe and I walked hand in hand into the federal courthouse in Newark as reporters and photographers rushed us once again. Even though I had put on a brave front all these months, my nerves at this point were totally shot. I hadn’t been eating or sleeping much. My mind just kept whirling. But as I walked through the courthouse doors, I just tried to keep it all together. I was determined to get through this horrible day as best I could.