That's Amore (Weddings by Bella Book #4): A Novel

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That's Amore (Weddings by Bella Book #4): A Novel Page 14

by Janice Thompson


  I didn’t have time to think about it long because D.J.’s parents arrived. His dad helped him set up a picnic table in the front yard, and Earline and Mama started filling it with goodies sure to tempt the palates of all in attendance, whether from Galveston or Splendora. Or anywhere in between, for that matter.

  I watched—really watched—as Tres ran from tree to tree, popping behind each one with his sword in his hand. He emerged time and time again, fighting invisible enemies with weapon in hand. I’d seen him play hundreds of times, but never like this.

  “Who do you suppose he’s fighting?” I asked.

  “Fighting?” Uncle Laz looked perplexed. “Pirates, of course.”

  “Ah.” Of course. My son’s overactive imagination was at work again.

  “Does he know there aren’t any pirates in Splendora?” Aunt Rosa asked.

  I sighed, thinking of Mayor Deets. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Aunt Rosa.”

  She gave me a curious look, then sent Laz back to the car to carry in several large containers of gravy, “to get you through the bleak midwinter.” I reminded her that we were in full-out summer, but she stuck to her explanation.

  My siblings showed up a short time later, all of them dressed in cowboy attire. It’d been awhile since I’d seen my family fully decked out in boots, hats, jeans, and western shirts. The whole thing caused me to flash back to the very first country-western themed wedding I’d coordinated. What a chaotic, blissful mess that had been!

  My sister Sophia arrived in style, her husband Tony driving their brand-new BMW. I could almost read the expression on his face as he got out of the car and walked arm in arm with my sister: This lifestyle could’ve been yours, Bella. See what you’re missing out on?

  Okay, so I’d dated Tony for a few years. And yes, I thought we’d eventually get married and raise a family. In the end, D.J., my Texas cowboy, had won my heart and pulled me away from Tony DeLuca. Which, of course, left Tony free to marry my sister. Like that was normal.

  Only, in our world, things that were abnormal seemed perfectly, completely ordinary. So who was I to judge my sister’s choice of husband? It was apparently all part of some larger, cosmic plan. And in some way, it linked me to the whole Jasmine-Lily-Fred thing.

  The party really got under way when folks from Splendora arrived, first Pastor Higley and his wife Nelda, who carried a large fruit bowl. Why they arrived in a hearse, I could not say. Our pastor invited our extended family members to attend tomorrow’s service, and D.J. told the pastor that we would all be there with bells on.

  After them came Cecil, who looked a bit lost. He carried a stack of baked goods from the local supercenter, which he set on the picnic table. Then came Jenna and Bubba with their boys. Funny how I’d gotten so used to seeing Jenna in jeans and boots that I hardly noticed anymore. I certainly wouldn’t have called her outfit a costume. Just everyday clothes.

  The same could not be said of the Splendora trio, who arrived minutes later. Instead of their usual glittery attire, the ladies wore rodeo-themed blouses and skirts.

  “We heard it was a cowboy birthday,” Twila said. “So we arrived in style.”

  Not that these three ladies needed an invitation to dress up, but I was happy they’d made the effort for my son’s big day. It did my heart good to see that the swelling in Twila’s cheek had gone down. And the ladies appeared to be getting along today. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why Twila’s and Jolene’s husbands hadn’t come.

  “You look wonderful!” Rosa greeted them with a hug and walked into the double-wide alongside Bonnie Sue, who had brought a huge container of store-bought potato salad.

  Twila made her way up the porch steps and joined us. She took one look at Guido and clucked her tongue. “Well, as I live and breathe. If it isn’t my favorite feathered friend.” She reached out to stroke Guido’s feathers and he snapped at her.

  “Back off, Twila,” Jolene said. “That bird’s higher than a Texas pine and twice as sappy.”

  “Hey now, I heard that.” Uncle Laz scooped the parrot into his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with this bird that a few days in the country won’t cure.”

  “I must admit, the country air is good for the soul.” Rosa stood at the edge of the porch, her eyes on the stately green pines surrounding her. “It’s so colorful here. And the air smells different than in Galveston.”

  “No salt,” Twila said. “Just good, clean air. Great for the lungs.”

  Just then Rosa began to sneeze, multiple times in a row. Oh dear.

  This led to a discussion about some vitamins Twila had purchased. She’d just attempted to pull me into the conversation when the Rigas family arrived—the twins, Blossom and her husband, and their parents. Cassia and Alex followed closely behind, but they appeared so enamored with each other that I wondered if they would notice the rest of us.

  “Oh, Bella, thank you for having us!” Mrs. Rigas said as she approached the front porch. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  I introduced her to my mother, and the two took off for a walk, deep in conversation about beauty products. Go figure. When Jasmine’s fiancé Fred showed up a couple of minutes later, Lily ventured over to the picnic table, clearly wanting to avoid him. Not that Jasmine seemed to notice or care. The happy-go-lucky girl walked arm in arm with Fred, who turned out to be a rather mousy-looking fellow. Not at all what I’d pictured.

  Blossom and her hubby went off to find D.J., which left me with Mr. Rigas, Uncle Laz, and Aunt Rosa, along with the Splendora trio. This interesting mix of characters seemed to hit it off, especially once Mr. Rigas started singing the praises of the landscape in Splendora.

  “It is nice here,” Rosa said. “I just love all of the trees.” She glanced up at the pines. “It’s so very . . . green.”

  “I wouldn’t mind coming here to film an episode of our show on the Food Network.” Laz nodded. “Might be just the ticket.”

  “That show . . .” Rosa muttered under her breath.

  “What about it?” Twila asked.

  “I don’t know how much longer Laz and I can keep going.” She eased her way down onto the porch swing and sighed.

  “Getting tired of it?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “It’s not really that. I love cooking and it’s been great fun to do it in front of millions of people. We have such amazing fans. And what could top having your own show on the Food Network?” Rosa looked me in the eye. “But I’m getting old, Bella.”

  “What?” She seemed younger than ever to me, especially when the hair and makeup people from the Food Network worked their magic. But judging from the look on her face now, she felt her age.

  “The only alternative to getting old is dying, Rosa.” Twila gave her a nod.

  “I think I’ll take old age.” Mr. Rigas chuckled and then engaged Laz in a private conversation apart from the ladies.

  “Me too,” Jolene said. “Though these old hip joints of mine aren’t what they used to be.”

  “And certain parts of the anatomy head south at our age,” Bonnie Sue added. “But you get used to that, I suppose.”

  “It’s not really my age, I guess,” Rosa said. “I think the whole thing is just getting old. It’s one thing to get to do something. It’s another to have to do it. Having to do something—even something you love—can take the fun right out of it. And I’m over seventy now. I can’t go on working forever.”

  “So you’ll quit the show?” I asked.

  “We’ll do one more season, but I’m praying about what happens after that. Maybe we’ll shift the show to Parma John’s. Let your brothers take over as the chefs. Who knows? I just know that Laz and I are ready to do the things that people in their golden years do. Travel. Rest. Play solitaire.”

  “Please. Like Uncle Laz would ever slow down long enough to play solitaire.” I gave him a knowing look.

  He looked over from his conversation with Mr. Rigas and shrugged. “Maybe I could learn?”

 
“You could fish with my husband,” Twila said. She offered me an embarrassed look. “That’s where the old coot is today. I couldn’t convince him to come to a five-year-old’s birthday party. Not when the catfish are biting out at Peach Creek.”

  “I understand, Twila. It’s okay.”

  “My husband’s taking the day off too,” Jolene said. “He’s gone off to the hardware store to putter around.”

  The ladies headed over to the picnic table to load their plates, but I got the sense that Rosa and Laz were content to stay on the porch for a while, away from the crowd.

  “Maybe that’ll be you someday, Uncle Laz.” I gave him a sympathetic look. “Spending time at the creek, I mean. Or the beach. Fishing.”

  “Maybe. Who knows?” He turned his gaze to the yard. “I wish I had more time to spend in the garden, if you want the truth.”

  “Oh my, yes.” Rosa smiled. “Our vegetable garden is the best on the island.”

  “That whole ‘stop and smell the roses’ thing is more than a saying,” Mr. Rigas said. “I’ve got some pretty nice gardens. Want to have a look around?” He and Laz began a conversation about roses, and minutes later they took off in Mr. Rigas’s car to check out the gardens at Rigas Roses.

  “Well, there you go,” Rosa said. “Maybe that’s the answer. Stopping to smell the roses.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It would do the man a world of good to rest. He’s been through so much with his heart already.”

  “True.”

  “The older I get, the more I see how important it is to take care of yourself.” Twila arrived back from the picnic table, her plate overloaded with chips, dips, and sweets. “Ooh, doesn’t this look so yummy?”

  “Yes, taking care of yourself is critical.” Jolene climbed the porch steps, barely able to balance the overly full plate in her hands.

  “That’s what I always say.” Bonnie Sue joined them, almost dumping the potato salad off her plate in the process. “Ooh, that was a close call. I’d hate to waste Earline’s homemade banana pudding. It’s one of my favorites.”

  Off in the distance, D.J. was getting the fire started. Most of the guests gathered around, waiting for just the right moment to start grilling hot dogs. Well, all but Lily, who stood at the picnic table alone. Cecil hovered nearby.

  “That boy’s as lonely as a pine tree in a parking lot,” Twila said.

  “Sure wish Lily would sit up and take notice of him.” Bonnie Sue took a bite of her food.

  Right now the only thing Lily happened to be noticing was the Prius driving past our house. Interesting. Was Clayton Deets scoping us out, perhaps? Gathering info for a future article? The very idea made my blood boil. No one else seemed to notice, and he drove off, thank goodness.

  Twila peered off in the distance, then turned my way. “You know, I’ve noticed that Cecil really has his eye on Lily. Do you suppose he’s twitterpated?”

  “I doubt he tweets at all, Twila,” Jolene said. “He looked like a hard worker to me. When would he have the time to get on the internet?”

  “True,” Bonnie Sue added. “And there’s no wireless signal at the wedding facility.”

  “Internet? Wireless signal?” Twila looked genuinely perplexed. “Never knew you had to have some sort of signal to be twitterpated, lest it was a signal from the Almighty. I thought it just happened naturally. That’s how it was with me and my sweet hubby, I mean.”

  I stifled a laugh, realizing I should probably clear up this little misunderstanding. But from the looks of things, I didn’t have time. The Splendora trio headed off toward the fire pit, leaving me alone on the porch with Aunt Rosa. Just about the time I decided to join D.J. and the others, my aunt gestured for me to sit next to her on the porch swing, so I did.

  “Bella, I’m a little worried about you.”

  “Oh?”

  “You work so hard. To live a long life, you have to really live, Bella-bambina.”

  Her words sounded like an accusation. My response might have come out sounding a bit defensive. “I-I live, Aunt Rosa.”

  She slipped an arm over my shoulder, her voice lowering. “I mean truly live. Not just work.”

  You’re a fine one to talk. I’ve learned from the master.

  Still, I couldn’t say that. Not out loud, anyway.

  She gave me a pensive look. “I see how you burn the candle at both ends, and it worries me. Take it from an old lady who’s had a hard time saying no to people. You need to take care of yourself. If you’re worn out, how will you take care of anyone else?”

  I sighed. No point in arguing, after all.

  “You know how those flight attendants on airplanes always say to put the oxygen mask on yourself first? There’s a reason for that. You won’t be around to take care of your kids, or your husband, or your home, or either of the wedding facilities, if you don’t take care of yourself first. And I’m especially concerned with these babies coming. I wish you could put your feet up. Rest.”

  “Me too.” There, I’d said it. It would be lovely to rest.

  “I’m not questioning the new facility,” Rosa said. She gazed directly into my eyes, which made me a little uncomfortable. “I’m just questioning the timing. Look at you. You’re barely able to stand, let alone work. You look exhausted.”

  “I am exhausted.” A little sigh followed.

  “Be honest with me, Bella. How are you liking your time here in the country? Is it helping you rest at all?” She looked around. “I wouldn’t mind it—for a few days, anyway.”

  “It’s quieter, for sure. But I’m just as busy, so I don’t get any real time to myself. Not that I’m accustomed to time by myself. I mean, in Galveston I’m usually at Club Wed, right next door to the house, so I’m surrounded by people I love. Everyone is within shouting distance. Here I’m pretty much on my own. Unless you count the twins. And the guys renovating the wedding facility.”

  “Speaking of the wedding facility, when are we going to get a tour? Your mama said it needs a lot of work.”

  “Oh, it does. It’ll be another month or two before the decorating part can begin. Right now it’s filled with rotting lumber, cockeyed walls, and scaffolding as far as the eye can see.”

  “Sounds lovely.” She chuckled.

  “It’s not.” I gazed at my husband, who gestured for me to join him at the fire pit. “Looks like we’re wanted over there.”

  Rosa and I made our way to join the group, and I did my best not to fret over what she’d said. D.J. gathered everyone together and we prayed, then roasted hot dogs over the open flame. He did a great job of keeping the kids at a distance while everyone got their food.

  I looked on with pride. D.J. was really in his element. Then again, he would be. This sort of thing was just what he needed to take him back to his own childhood.

  Earline started sharing a story about D.J. and Bubba, something about a fire they’d started in the yard when they were boys. In the middle of the story, Twila pulled me aside.

  “I just can’t wait till tomorrow,” she said. “We’re having dinner on the grounds after service. You’ll have to stay for the fellowship, Bella. I plan to spread the word about my campaign and get folks to sign a petition to stop the mayor from his antics regarding the wedding facility.”

  “Wow, that’s great,” I said.

  Bonnie Sue joined us. “Perfect opportunity to pass out flyers for the grand opening of the wedding facility. You never know, Bella. Some of them might be interested in renting the building for other things.”

  “Other things?” I asked.

  “Well, sure.” Twila nodded. “Round here, folks’ll rent out buildings for fiftieth wedding anniversaries, birthday parties, baby showers, and all sorts of things. So don’t be surprised if you get a slew of people asking about your rates.”

  This led to a lengthy discussion about the wedding facility. Earline continued her story about D.J. and Bubba, but I couldn’t hear any of it now. Bummer. I hated to miss out.

  Out of the corner of
my eye, I caught a glimpse of Rosa looking my way. I could hear her words, “You have to really live, Bella-bambina!” ringing in my ears.

  As I stood here at my son’s birthday party, talking business, business, business, I had to wonder if perhaps she might have a valid point. When would I have a chance to stop and smell the roses? If one could gauge from the chattering going on from the Splendora trio . . . not anytime soon.

  14

  I Will Always Love You

  Do it again on the next verse, and people think you meant it.

  Chet Atkins

  With the exception of Uncle Laz and Aunt Rosa, who attended the Catholic church, most of the Rossi family members were of the Methodist persuasion. Not that any of us really needed to be persuaded to go to a particular church. We found ourselves at home no matter where we worshiped. This fact came in handy during my time in Splendora, when we attended D.J.’s home church—Full Gospel Chapel in the Pines. I enjoyed the charismatic services immensely, but I had to wonder how my parents and other relatives might take it.

  On the morning following Tres’s party, I tended to Guido, giving him the proper meds, then D.J. and the kids and I headed off to church. We met up with our family members outside of the sanctuary so that we could go in together. The small congregation would nearly double in size today, what with the Rossis and Neeleys in attendance. Pastor Higley would no doubt be thrilled.

  I made my way up the steps outside the church building, remembering the first time I’d ever visited the Full Gospel Chapel in the Pines with D.J. all those years ago. Things had changed a lot since then. The old wood-framed building had been replaced with a newer, modernized facility. Even the style of worship had changed, if one could gauge from the rehearsal going on inside as we arrived. The Southern gospel feel remained, but they’d added more instruments and the band members were younger. Everything seemed more modern. Interesting, especially in light of Mayor Deets’s insistence that older buildings remain virtually unchanged.

  Twila, Jolene, and Bonnie Sue still greeted folks as they came through the door and made a huge production out of welcoming my family members. I had to wonder if the three ladies might take to dancing down the aisles during the service like they’d done all those years ago. It had thrown me for a loop back then. Now I found myself hoping for a rousing service. Maybe if they took off dancing, Rosa would join them, doing one of her Italian folk dances. One could hope.

 

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