Frosted With Revenge

by Catherine Bruns

  I stared at her, trying to keep my emotions in check while thinking about the resiliency she possessed that I had never known about before.

  Mom laughed at my expression. "Come on, honey. It's time to get married! Hurry up so that we can get this party started."

  Mrs. Gavelli called from the doorway, "Yes, you hurry. I like to party."

  "She just likes the alcohol involved," Johnny teased. "Gram's more fun when she's tipsy."

  "Hush." She gave him a light slap and then grabbed his face between her hands. "Be a good boy."

  "Yeah," my father growled. "It wouldn't be a party without you, Nicoletta. That's for sure."

  Father Grenaldi's expression was pained. "Are we ready to continue?"

  I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing.

  "Dearly beloved," Father Grenaldi said in his rich deep voice, "we are gathered here together to join this man and woman in holy matrimony. If anyone has reason that these two should not be joined, let them speak now or forever hold his peace."

  My father snorted. "Hey, Sal, where's those fortune cookies I asked for? Let's see what they say."

  Grandma Rosa gave him a death stare. "Hush, you fool."

  "My goodness." Father Grenaldi stared at me sympathetically. "I never knew the Muccios were so—unusual."

  "That's one way to describe them, Father," Mike grinned.

  "Sally, Michael, would you like to say your vows? Please join hands."

  I handed Gianna the bouquet and placed both of my hands in Mike's. He smiled down at me tenderly. "I'm not very good at this," he confessed. "All I can say is that I've loved you since the first day I met you. We haven't always had smooth sailing, that's for sure. I guess we'll never know exactly what's in store for us, but all I want is to be there to love and comfort you for the rest of your life. I'll be the best husband I can—and hopefully father someday too."

  My mother sighed from the couch. "I can't wait to be a granny."

  "Sal." My father grunted. "What's all this talk about kids? Are you pregnant?"

  I almost choked. "No, Dad."

  The expression on his face was pure relief. "Okay then, go on."

  Father Grenaldi stared at my father, confused. "Okay, Sally, your turn."

  My heart overflowed with happiness as I stared into the eyes of the man I loved, and my voice grew shaky. "I've always loved you. I tried to fight it for years, but it was no use. I'm thankful for so many things in my life. But to be with you, forever—nothing can compare to that. I love you more than anything on this earth."

  Someone was crying. I assumed it was my mother, so I was very surprised to turn and see Josie bawling with Rob's arm around her. Now I knew where Dylan got it from.

  Grandma Rosa beamed at both of us. My father and mother were sitting together, arms around each other's waists, and Gianna and Johnny were holding hands behind Mrs. Gavelli's intimidating figure.

  All was as it should be. Everything was right in my world.

  "Do you have the rings?" Father Grenaldi asked Mike.

  Mike looked at Rob who reddened. "Shoot. I forgot. The ring bearer has them." He let go of Josie and hurried down the hallway toward our bedroom.

  "Ring bearer?" I stared at Josie who winked. "Is it one of the kids?"

  "Oh, hell no," Mike whispered.

  Josie laughed. "I heard that."

  Rob reappeared with Spike in his arms. He was wearing a little black jacket, and there was a white ribbon adorning his back. Attached to it were two gold bands.

  "Oh my gosh," I squealed. "He looks so cute."

  Gianna was busy snapping pictures of all of us with her camera.

  "By the way," Johnny said. "We're taking Spike while you guys are away. Gram likes dogs."

  I didn't think Mrs. Gavelli liked anything, so this was a major surprise. She caught me staring and narrowed her eyes. "He a good little doggie. Pets be better than people. Okay, most times."

  Father Grenaldi glanced at her almost as if he was in pain then cleared his throat. "Are we ready to continue?"

  Mike smothered a laugh as he put the ring on my finger. "Father, it's just the way the Muccios are. Nothing will ever change that. Now, do you want to finish telling us our fortune so I can kiss the bride?"

  Father Grenaldi looked at Mike like he had corn growing out of his ears. "What does that mean?"

  "Shh," I whispered, holding fast to his hand. "You're supposed to be serious here."

  Mike turned those beautiful midnight blue eyes on me, and as usual, I melted on the spot. "I am serious," he whispered softly. "Seriously in love with you."

  "You're going to make me cry," I said. "Stop it."

  "She ruin her makeup!" Mrs. Gavelli yelled. "You stop now."

  "Michael James Donovan," Father Grenaldi said in an authoritative tone. "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

  "I'm willing to take a chance," he teased.

  Everyone laughed, with the exception of Father Grenaldi who obviously didn't get the joke. I nudged Mike in the side. "Do you realize what you just said?"

  His face grew somber as he stared into my eyes, his voice thick with emotion. "I do."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  As we walked along the white sandy beach on the last day of our honeymoon, hand in hand, I reflected on my life. Although not yet thirty, I felt considerably older. I'd been through a lot within a short time—both Mike and I had. None of that seemed to matter anymore. Although I'd always tried to have an upbeat attitude where my life was concerned, I now looked forward to the rest of it with a renewed sort of anticipation.

  The beach was private, and Mike had hinted that he had a surprise for me. I noticed an umbrella set up in the sand, along with a cooler beside it and blanket underneath. He walked purposefully toward it while I followed.

  "What's this?" I asked.

  "I ordered us a picnic lunch," he said. "I arranged it through the hotel yesterday."

  I grinned. "You do think of everything, husband. This is perfect."

  The entire honeymoon had been perfect, in fact. We'd slept in late, gone on a couple of excursions, been on the Pearl Harbor cruise, and attended a luau. I still smiled when I thought of the hula dancer who had picked Mike out of the audience to dance with her.

  The ocean view from this particular spot was breathtaking, which is probably why Mike had chosen it. I could sit for hours watching the shimmering blue water with the foam skimming the top of it. The pleasant smell of hibiscus teased my nostrils as palm trees swayed softly in the warm breeze.

  "I wish we could stay here forever," I sighed.

  He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. "Me too. It's beautiful here, isn't it? But that doesn't matter. We'll have paradise wherever we go, just you and me." He reached into the cooler and brought out a bottle of Pinot and some plastic stemware. There was also a platter of fruit, bread and cheeses, and what looked like seaweed. He poured a glass half full of wine and handed it to me. "You, me, and someday a houseful of kids."

  I hoped I was already pregnant but wouldn't know for a while yet. "I want that so much. I even enjoyed taking care of Josie's."

  Mike narrowed his eyes. "Our kids won't be like that."

  Famous last words. "Yeah, right," I mocked. "Ours will be perfect, I'm sure."

  "Of course they will. So, do we have a long layover on the flight this evening?" Mike asked. "I changed the reservations so many times last week that I can't remember."

  I reached into my canvas bag for my phone. "Shoot. I must have left my cell in the rental car."

  He gave me a wicked grin. "It's probably my fault. I've managed to distract you quite nicely on this trip. Not that you seemed to mind much."

  I laughed. "You are so bad."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Donovan. By the way, I do love saying that name."

  My lower lip trembled. "And I love hearing it. For a while I never thought that would happen."

  He gazed out at the ocean. "I don't know. Somethin
g deep down inside told me that someday I would get you back. Even after you married Colin, I never completely lost hope. It was what kept me going all those years."

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Mike turned his head so he could kiss me. "I know something about that too."

  We were silent as we sat there and continued to watch the sky streaked with sunlight and listen to the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Reluctantly, I released him so that I could rummage through my bag again. I found our itinerary crumpled up inside one of the pockets and studied it for a minute. "Let's see. A two-hour layover in Seattle for the first change and then one hour in Detroit for the next. Not too bad. It's a good thing we checked out already because we won't have much time to get to the airport when we're done here."

  "Damn." He grinned at me like a little boy with a secret. "And I had more plans for you."

  "You never quit, do you?" I put the paper back inside my bag, and my fingers connected with something. I drew the object out and sucked in a breath. "Uh-oh."

  "What's wrong?" Mike asked.

  I held up the plastic bag for him to see. There were two smashed fortune cookies inside. "My father asked me to bring these to the house the night before the wedding. With everything going on, I forgot about them. They've been buried in my bag all week."

  There was a trash receptacle nearby, and I rose to my feet. "Let me get rid of these."

  "Hang on a second." Mike grabbed my arm. "Let's see what they have to say."

  "Come on," I implored. "Let's not start this again."

  He pinned me with his direct gaze. "Sal, the first thing you have to do is stop worrying about these cookies."

  "So it's better that I throw them out."

  "No, it isn't," Mike insisted.

  I didn't want this to turn into an argument. Our trip had been so perfect. "Are you suggesting we read them?"

  "Come here," he said and patted the spot on the blanket beside him.

  I sighed but did as he said. Mike immediately placed an arm around my shoulders. "Even if there was something to these cookies—and I'm not saying there is—it won't do any good to keep avoiding them. Didn't we say we needed to tackle our fears head on?"

  "Well, yes, but…"

  "If you're going to keep serving these cookies at the bakery," Mike continued, "and I'm guessing you will because they're so popular—you need to deal with this. Don't be afraid of what they might say. Learn to embrace them instead."

  I raised an eyebrow at my husband. "Embrace fortunes that tell me to stay in the house or that revenge can be sweet?"

  He grinned. "Well, not exactly. What I'm trying to say is that you can't let them run—or ruin—your life. There's an old saying. 'Worrying doesn't stop the bad things from happening. It just keeps you from enjoying the good.'" He wove his fingers through my hair. "And I don't want to waste a minute of our life together worrying about something that might never occur. Anything that happens, we'll tackle together. Okay?"

  I looked into his rugged handsome face and for about the millionth time this week, couldn't fathom how lucky I was. "Okay," I whispered. "I'll try. When did you get so wise, by the way? You sound like my grandmother."

  "Don't I wish," Mike admitted. "If I had one tenth of the wisdom that woman has, I'd be satisfied forever."

  I handed him the plastic bag. "Here you go."

  He barked with laughter. "So I have to read one too?"

  "Of course. We're a team," I reminded him.

  Mike removed a cookie from the bag and pulled the fortune strip from it. A shadow passed across his face as he read the message, and he didn't smile. "Hmm. Interesting."

  Despite the warm temperatures, a chill ran through me. "It doesn't say anything about the airplane crashing tonight, does it?"

  Mike looked at me in disbelief. "No, darling. It simply says Don't let people from your past haunt your future."

  That was odd. Nevertheless, I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm sorry. I know that you don't like talking about your childhood. It was hell for you."

  He leaned his head on my shoulder. "Someday we'll talk about it. But not today. I won't let anything spoil the rest of my honeymoon with my beautiful bride. Plus, I've learned to live with it. So there's no way that could ever affect our life together." Mike waved the bag gaily at me. "Your turn."

  Ugh. I sighed and removed the other cookie then glanced down at the strip. Mike leaned over my shoulder as we read the words silently together.

  The sure way to predict the future is to invent it.

  I raised an eyebrow at Mike. "So, according to this message, I am the one in charge of my future, so there's nothing to worry about, right?"

  Mike laughed and removed both the strip of paper and cookie from my hand, rose to his feet, and tossed them into the nearby receptacle. "There's no reason for us to worry anymore. We're young, in love, and happy. No one can ever take that away from us. There's nothing else in this life that I want except to have a family and be a good husband to you. The rest will work itself out. Okay?"

  I smiled up at him in adoration. To heck with the cookies. My fortune was standing right in front of me. "Whatever you say, my love."

  He reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. "Come on. We've got a life to go live."

  RECIPES

  MAAMOUL COOKIES

  Author's Note: Maamoul is a traditional Middle Eastern cookie made with a wooden mold that can be found in specialty stores. Different molds are required depending on whether you use dates or nuts. If you are making the cookies without the mold, you can use both dates and nuts.

  The cookies are similar in style to Italian Wedding Cookies. This recipe was the creation of my beloved aunt who passed away over ten years ago, and I consider it a personal tribute to her memory.

  5 cups all-purpose flour

  2 lbs unsalted butter

  1 jigger rye whiskey (approximately 1.5 ounces)

  2 eggs, beaten

  1 cup sugar

  1 lb walnuts, finely chopped (or whole seedless dates can be used instead)

  1 tsp rose water

  Confectioner's sugar

  Beat sugar and butter together. Add flour a little bit at a time. Knead until dough starts to fall off your hands.

  In a separate bowl add nuts, ¼ cup of sugar, rose water, and rye whiskey.

  Coat your mold with flour to prevent sticking. Add dough, flatten it out in the mold, add a teaspoon of nuts or a date, and close over with more dough.

  To make the cookies by hand without a mold:

  Coat your hand with flour to prevent sticking. Take a dough ball about the size of a walnut, flatten it slightly, and lay in it the palm of one hand. Take a date, and flatten it slightly then lay it on top of the dough. Finally, take a smaller dough ball, about one inch in diameter, flatten it slightly, and place it on top of the date filling. (Basically the palm of your hand becomes the mold.) Gently press the dough on top into the dough on the bottom so the date filling is completely covered. Shape the cookie into a slightly flattened circle. Use a fork to make a decorative crosshatch pattern on the top.

  Bake at 325° Fahrenheit for 20 to 25 minutes or until cookies are lightly browned around the edges and light on top. Cool for five minutes before dusting lightly with confectioner's sugar.

  Makes about five or six dozen cookies.

  BUTTERSCOTCH PARFAIT

  1 cup flour

  ½ cup (one stick) butter, softened

  1 tbsp sugar

  8 ounces cream cheese, softened

  1 cup powdered sugar

  8 ounce tub whipped topping, divided

  3 cups whole milk

  Two 3.4 ounce packages of instant butterscotch pudding

  One full-sized Butterfinger candy bar, crumbled

  Layer number one: Combine flour, butter, and tablespoon of sugar, and mix well. Press to the bottom of an ungreased 9x13" pan, and bake at 350° Fahrenheit for 10 to 15 minutes or until the edges start to brown. Cool completely.


  Layer number two: Mix softened cream cheese and powdered sugar. Then incorporate 1 cup of whipped topping. Spread over the first layer.

  Layer number three: Combine milk and both packages of instant butterscotch pudding. Mix well, and spread over the second layer.

  Layer number four: Spread the rest of the whipped topping over the first three layers, and sprinkle on the crumbled-up Butterfinger.

  Refrigerate until ready to serve. Makes at least 15 servings.

  COOKIES 'N CRÈME CAKE

  12 crème-filled chocolate cookies

  1 pkg of white cake mix

  ¾ cup water

  ½ cup sour cream

  3 egg whites

  2 tbsp vegetable oil

  Icing:

  6 crème-filled chocolate cookies

  1½ cup powdered sugar

  ¼ cup sour cream

  3 tbsp butter

  Preheat oven to 325° Fahrenheit. Spray Bundt pan with nonstick cooking spray. Coarsely chop up cookies. Combine cake mix, water, sour cream, egg whites, and oil. Mix well. Pour one half of the batter into pan. Sprinkle chopped cookies evenly over the top of batter, making sure they don't touch the sides of the pan. Spoon remaining batter over the cookies. Bake 50 to 55 minutes or until a tester toothpick comes out clean. Cool completely.

  Icing: Chop cookies. Combine sugar, sour cream, and butter. Beat until smooth. Spread on top of cake. Sprinkle on chopped cookies. Cake makes about 10-12 servings.

  ZUCCHINI BREAD

  3 eggs

  2 cups sugar

  1 cup vegetable oil

  2 cups grated zucchini

  2 tbsp cinnamon

  2 tbsp vanilla

  2 cups flour

  1 tsp salt

  ¼ tsp baking powder

  2 tsp baking soda