The man shook his head. "I don't think so. I was here first, and I've taken possession now. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, don't forget."
Lisa's expression grew concerned as Alex's lips thinned. "Please, Guy, just back off," she urged. "It's Alex's turn now. And I'm nobody's possession, so quit the macho act. You're making a fool of yourself."
Guy drew her tighter to his chest. "I said we're dancing here. Get lost, ex-man."
Guy placed his hands on Lisa's butt again and drew her into his crotch; she tried to pull back, in vain. But she did manage to kick him in the ankle.
"Let me go, you moron!"
It was at that precise moment that Alex tackled Guy to the ground, his elbow accidentally hitting the man's nose, which began bleeding profusely, the bright red blood dripping onto his pristine white shirt.
"I told you to let go of my wife, asshole!"
The two men began rolling around the floor, like a couple of adolescent teenagers, exchanging slaps and curses, totally ignoring Lisa, who was standing by helplessly, watching and wringing her hands.
Unable to stand it a moment longer, Lisa cried out, "Stop it, you two! Stop fighting!" rushing over to try and pull her jealous husband off Guy.
A woman screamed at the top of her lungs.
Someone yelled, "Call the police!"
But it was unnecessary. The police had already been summoned by the bartender, and were now heading in Alex and Guy's direction.
The cop pulled Lisa off of Alex. "Step aside, lady. You're in enough trouble as it is."
Her eyes widened. "But—"
"Break it up, you two!" the officer in charge demanded, grabbing hold of Alex and pulling him back, while Guy remained sprawled on the floor, bleeding like a stuck pig. The two men and Lisa were then handcuffed and escorted out the door.
"See what you've done, Alex? You've made me a criminal, with your jealous ways and nasty temper," Lisa told him.
Noting his wife's fury, and the fact that she had blamed him for everything that had happened, Alex sighed. He'd met Lisa at Club Zero, and now it seemed he'd lost her here.
11
The worst part of getting arrested, in Lisa's opinion, wasn't the handcuffs, the public humiliation of being hauled off to jail in front of a roomful of people, some of whom she knew, or even having to converse with cellmates who were hookers and drug addicts.
No, the worst part of the entire ordeal had been facing her parents when they'd come down to the police station to bail her and Alex out of jail.
Humiliation and mortification didn't even come close to explaining how she'd felt.
Now two hours later, they sat in the living room of the Morelli home—a decorator's nightmare, but a retro seventies lover's dream—watching Lisa's father pace the green shag-carpeted floor, a disappointed look on his face, while Josephine wrung her hands in distress and silently prayed to the Almighty.
"I hope you two understand the seriousness of the situation," John began, grinding to a halt in front of the silent couple and leveling a disgusted look at his daughter.
"I don't mind telling you, Lisa, that your mother and I were very embarrassed to find you and Alex in such a terrible situation and are once again disappointed by your behavior."
Disappointed! So what else was new?
John shook his head and heaved a deep sigh that Lisa thought had more to do with the lateness of the hour than anything else. Her father liked going to bed promptly at ten every night, and it was way past midnight.
"Hauled off to jail like common criminals," Josephine wailed, crossing herself. "Dial What will the neighbors think? I won't be able to hold my head up in church this Sunday."
"I'm sure Father Scaletti will forgive you, Ma, if you put enough money in his collection plate."
"Lisa!" her father warned.
"When are you going to grow up, Lisa?" Josephine admonished. "And you, Alex," she pointed an accusing finger at her son-in-law. "I expected better of you. You're supposed to be the levelheaded one in this relationship. My daughter is a bit wild, but you—"
"I didn't do anything, Ma. It was Alex," Lisa tried to explain. "He became jealous because I was dancing with another man, even though—"
"And why were you dancing with another man?" her father wanted to know. "You're married, in case you've forgotten." He turned to Alex.
"And why are you letting my daughter dance with someone else? Is this the way they do it in Florida? Where I come from we protect our women. We don't let them run off with other men, carousing and doing God only knows what. What kind of a husband allows that?"
Red faced, Alex replied, "I can assure you, Mr. Morelli, that I didn't want Lisa dancing with anyone but me. But as you know, your daughter is a bit headstrong and so—"
Lisa practically vaulted off the sofa, her face a mask of fury. "Oh, so now it's my fault? That's rich, and so typical of you, Alex. Just like it was my fault when your parents decided to attack me for no reason."
"Do you see, Ma? Do you see why I left him?"
Josephine threw up her hands. "Enough! Sit down, Lisa. This is getting us nowhere. It does no good to place blame. Now is the time to fix what is broken, not make new damage."
"I think you and Alex should move in here with me and your father. Maybe if you were living under the same roof, things could be worked out between you."
"And don't forget, there could be other reasons to make your marriage work."
"What other reasons?" Alex wanted to know, turning to stare at his wife, a questioning look on his face.
"Nothing. My mother isn't a rational woman, in case you haven't noticed."
"Maybe so," Josephine said, unwilling to give an inch. "But I still want you and Alex to move in with us. It's the sensible thing to do, not that you've ever been a sensible young woman, with all your crazy ideas and independent ways."
Lisa's eyes widened. "Live here, with you and Dad?"
She started laughing, almost hysterically. "You're not serious?"
I'd rather be deprived of sex and chocolate for the next ten years. Okay, maybe five. Well, definitely one.
"I'm very serious, Lisa. I think it would be good for you. Your father and I talked it over on our way to the police station, and we've agreed not to take sides in the matter. We just want you and your husband to have some time together, where you can work things out. Living like a normal married couple might help you do that."
Normal? There was nothing normal about the Morellis. Was her mother insane?
Well, duh!
"I'm willing to give it a try," Alex said, and Lisa flashed him an angry look.
"Well I'm not! I think it's a horrible idea." Though part of her wanted to say yes—the part that needed to punish Alex. It would serve him right to live with her family, after the hell he had put her through with his. The Morellis had turned dysfunction into an art form. She wouldn't bother to explain how her sweet, elderly grandmother read Playgirl and Cosmo when she thought no one was looking.
Lisa knew that her parents' interference would do more harm than good to a relationship that was already skating on thin ice.
Not that she wanted a relationship with Alex, mind you!
And she also knew that if she was going to achieve independence, she had to start doing things on her own, like finding an apartment.
As much as she enjoyed living with Leo, Lisa needed her own space and to make her own way in the world.
Independence had become her new goal.
Getting hired at the bakery had been the first step. Now she needed to prove, not only to Alex, her parents and his, but to herself, that she was capable at succeeding at life.
No more running, hiding, being impulsive and unreliable. Lisa was writing a new autobiography of her life and she was calling it "The Big Do-Over!"
"Lisa, this is Miriam. Rupert and I have been very worried about you, and we'd like to…" There was a pause in the voice-mail message, as if the caller had to consider her options before going o
n. "We'd like to be friends and try to work out our differences."
As if being arrested wasn't enough punishment for one night, Lisa was forced to listen to another message from her mother-in-law when she arrived home that night.
Miriam sounded sickeningly sweet and oh so nice, and Lisa wondered what the woman was up to now. "I think not, Miriam," she replied to the machine. "But thanks for the offer."
Too much had happened for Lisa to just forgive and forget. But isn't that what she had done with Alex? Hadn't she sort of forgiven him by allowing them to be friends?
It didn't seem conceivable, but could she do the same with her in-laws after everything that had happened?
And the real question was: Did she want to?
"Sol, I think we need to implement a few changes around here. Though the bakery goods are by far the best in the city, we're not attracting a young enough clientele. We need a new name for the bakery, something with a bit more pizzazz. And we need to spruce the place up a bit, make it more trendy if we're going to compete with the likes of Starbucks."
Lisa held her breath, hoping Sol wouldn't take offense to the suggestions she'd been contemplating for days. But if the bakery was going to succeed against the stiff competition they faced, changes had to be implemented.
The owner of Smollensky's winced a few times as Lisa spoke of changing his beloved bakery, but he didn't throw the rolling pin he held at her, so Lisa took that as a good sign. She'd been working at the bakery almost a month, so she felt she had a right to speak her mind.
Of course, Lisa always felt she had a right to speak her mind.
"We have tradition here, Lisa. We're known in the neighborhood as a family bakery. What would my regular customers think if suddenly everything they are familiar with changes? They might not be willing to buy from me anymore. Old people don't like change, including me."
"I'm sure they'd be delighted. But it's the younger coffee-drinking crowd with the disposable income that we need to attract, Sol. They're the ones with the bucks."
She pointed at the piecrust. "We could call the bakery Rolling in the Dough. Sort of a double meaning, if you know what I'm saying."
He thought a moment. "Not bad. It's catchy. Olivia always thought we needed a different name for the bakery. She thought Smollensky sounded too Jewish and might not bring in the Catholics. Fortunately, that didn't happen. People know quality when they taste it."
Now that she'd gotten his attention, Lisa pressed her case. "I thought we could take down those old-fashioned lace curtains and put up some wooden blinds instead, maybe paint the walls a nice cream color and accent with a deep red. We could buy a few used tables and chairs and paint them to match. And if we served a variety of coffees and teas, we might sell more doughnuts, muffins and croissants in the morning, which would maximize profits."
Sol rubbed his chin, contemplating Lisa's argument for improving the bakery. "I like your ideas. Sounds to me like you put a lot of thought into them, and that's good. You have a good head for business, young lady." The older man winked at her.
"We could rip up this old carpeting," he added.
"There's a nice oak floor beneath it that we could refinish. Olivia thought it was too much trouble to take care of, so we carpeted over it."
Lisa was so excited that Sol was enthusiastic about her ideas she was practically jumping up and down. "It's going to look fantastic, Sol. We can have a grand reopening and get some press. I'll have Francie do it. She used to be a publicist and will know exactly who to call."
"It's going to cost, but I got a cousin who does remodeling work and he owes me a favor. I'll call Herman tonight and see what he says."
"And I'll get Leo to do the blinds and help with the decorating, at cost, of course. I'm sure he'd be willing. All you have to do is feed Leo sweets and he'll do anything."
"This is good, Lisa. I feel my old energy coming back. You have been good for this place, and for me."
Lisa hugged the portly man. "You've been good for me, too, Sol. For the first time in my life, I don't feel like a screwup. I feel needed, like I belong."
"You're a nice girl and a hard worker. We make a good team."
Beaming from ear to ear, she said, "This calls for a toast, and at least three chocolate-chip cookies."
Sol procured two bottles of water from the refrigerator and a tray of freshly baked cookies. "I just took these out of the oven."
As the gooey chocolate melted in her mouth, Lisa heaved a contented sigh. "Eat your heart out, Mrs. Fields."
"You could be like her one day, Lisa. You have vision. That's what it takes to be successful. And being young and energetic doesn't hurt, either."
She paused midbite. "Do you really think so, Sol? I've never had such high aspirations."
"In this day and age a woman can do anything. What's to stop you?"
Lisa thought that over and nodded in agreement. "You're right. I can do anything I put my mind to."
Funny that Alex's image kept popping into her head.
Later that same day, Alex moved in with the Morellis. He needed a place to stay, they had offered, and he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I appreciate your putting me up, Mrs. Morelli. Your offer came at a good time, since my friend wasn't able to accommodate me at his apartment any longer."
Josephine led Alex into the spare bedroom, which was sparsely furnished with a twin bed, nightstand and not much else, but looked clean and comfortable, nonetheless.
"To be honest, I was hoping my daughter would come home, too. But it will be nice having you here, Alex. It will give us a chance to become better acquainted, and maybe Lisa will come around."
"She's a hard one, my Lisa. But I know in time she will listen to her heart and not her head. There's too much at stake."
"You mean our marriage?" he asked, tossing his leather carry-on onto the bed and winning a frown from his mother-in-law, who shook her head in chastisement.
"We don't dirty the bedspreads with luggage and we don't put our feet on the furniture, either," she said.
Alex promptly removed the offending item and apologized.
"Your marriage needs to be repaired, of course. But there are other factors to be considered, too. I'm sure you must realize that when two people are married certain things can result."
Alex thought a moment, and then all color drained from his face. "Are you saying that Lisa is pregnant?" That was one possibility he hadn't even considered. He'd just assumed because he had used condoms when they'd made love that pregnancy wouldn't be an issue. But condoms weren't foolproof, and he knew that.
Though he loved kids, Alex didn't think he or Lisa was ready for them yet. They had a marriage to repair, he had a business to get off the ground, and it was clear Lisa didn't know what she wanted from life. Of course, babies had a way of disregarding the best-laid plans of newlyweds.
Josephine shrugged. "That's not for me to say. My daughter won't admit to anything. But as a woman, I know the possibility exists. So I have taken it upon myself to contact your mother, Alex. I felt Miriam should be made aware of what is going on."
"My mother! You spoke to my mother? When?" This was news to him—very unwelcome news.
"Miriam came here to see me, not long ago, at my invitation. We had a nice chat about our children's future and the possibility of a grandchild. Your mother agrees that we must preserve your marriage to Lisa, at all costs."
Now that was a switch, and all because of a possibility of a grandchild. Alex tried to keep his temper in check, but he could feel the blood rising hot to his cheeks. "You and my mother should not have involved yourself in this, Mrs. Morelli. Child or no, what happens between Lisa and myself is our business."
Josephine looked hurt and confused. "But you came to me for help, asked my advice. Don't you remember?"
Heaving a sigh, Alex nodded. "Yes. Because I was at my wit's end." And stupid, apparently. "But by involving my mother, you have made the situation worse. Lisa and my f
amily don't get along. That is what caused all of this trouble to begin with."
"Then that will have to be resolved, won't it? Rude or not, they are your parents, Lisa is your wife, and they need to fix their relationship. I told your mother as much."
Alex could only imagine how that conversation must have gone. Miriam Mackenzie did not like being told what to do by anyone, especially someone she considered a social inferior. I-talians, as she called them, were foreigners, in his mother's opinion, whether or not they'd been born in the good old U.S.A.
"I think it would be better if you kept this information to yourself, Mrs. Morelli, and not tell Lisa about talking to my mother. She's still quite angry with my parents and will not welcome any interference from them. In fact, I'm not sure she would even consent to see them, if the situation presented itself." And he hoped it wouldn't, anytime soon. But what were the chances of that, now that Josephine had gotten involved?
"I haven't said a word, not even to my husband. I thought it'd be better if Lisa believed your parents are being kind to her of their accord and not because of what I told your mother."
Alex scratched his head, beginning to see how manipulative both Josephine and his mother were. And why both sets of parents drove his wife nuts. They were beginning to have that same effect on him.
If Lisa came back to him, he would never allow his family or hers to interfere in their lives again.
"Even though I appreciate your trying to help, Mrs. Morelli, I need to think this new development through, and I'd appreciate it if you would not meddle again."
"Hmph! That's some appreciation I get for trying to help you, Alex. I thought you would be grateful. But children are never grateful to their parents, no matter how hard we try to help them."
She raised her hands heavenward. "I pray the good Lord takes me soon, so I won't be such a burden to my family."
As Alex shut the door to his room, he could still hear Lisa's mother mumbling to herself about ungrateful son-in-laws and her impending death, and fully expected to be evicted from the premises by nightfall.
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