Better Than Your Dreams

by Dee Ernst

Ben came into the kitchen, nodded to Anthony, and grabbed the last martini glass off the counter. He lifted his glass. “A big welcome back to Mona, the sweetest, sexiest woman in the world.” We all drank. My glass was almost empty, and I would have asked Patricia for a second, but my aunt Lily chose that moment to come in the kitchen door, followed by a very handsome gentleman of an indeterminate age—anywhere from sixty to eighty—wearing a dark suit, a navy blue button-down shirt, and a pale pink tie.

  “Mona,” Lily cried, arms widespread. I got up to hug her, trying to hide my amazement.

  I hadn’t spoken to Aunt Lily via Skype or anything else that let me look at her, and when I’d been home last, she’d been off visiting in Brooklyn, so I hadn’t seen her in months. She’d gone from a Miss Marple-ish lady with permed white hair and a cardigan sweater to something of a glamour girl. Her hair was cut short, but instead of her usual soft halo of curls, it was styled close to her head and straight, like Judi Dench. She was wearing a colorful woven shawl that she dramatically swept off her shoulders, revealing a long red tunic falling over dark denim jeans that were tucked into soft gray boots. Several chunky gold chains around her neck and a wide gold bangle completed the look.

  “Aunt Lily,” I finally managed, “what happened to you?”

  She smiled. She was wearing bright lipstick and lots of mascara. “Vincent happened to me. Mona, meet Vincent DeMatriano. Vinnie, dearest, this is Mona.”

  Vinnie Dearest bowed over my hand and murmured something that I couldn’t actually hear, because my brain was exploding.

  DeMatriano? Vinnie DeMatriano? As in Joey “Two Shoes” DeMatriano? Notorious crime boss who happened to be the father of Lily’s good friend Joe DeMatriano, also a notorious crime boss?

  Aunt Lily was making introductions all around. Patricia, who would be unfailingly polite to one of Hitler’s henchmen, was all smiles and charm. MarshaMarsha went into her Italian paisano mode, kissing and making exaggerated hand gestures. Anthony tried to keep his eyes from dropping out of his head. I kept looking at Ben for, if nothing else, moral support. The man was unflappable, and I tried to siphon off as much of his calmness as I could.

  Joe DeMatriano had introduced Vinnie to Lily. Of course. It seemed that Vinnie and Joey “TwoShoes” were brothers. Lily was all smiles as she explained.

  Anthony was bursting. “Are you in the family business too?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes in horror. Anthony, really?

  But he recovered nicely. “You know, shoes?”

  Vinnie shrugged. “Retired. Retail was never my thing. Now I just enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

  Ben leaned back and nodded. “Retail is very tough. I’m sure you’ve earned every minute of relaxation.”

  Vinnie nodded back. “Exactly.”

  Ben always knew the right thing to say.

  Patricia had made another batch of martinis, of course, but I waved her away, focusing on Lily. The woman looked amazing—happy and glowing. She and Vinnie sat down at the table, held hands, and gazed at each other like teenagers. Lily accepted a drink from Patricia and let Vinnie take a sip. Then they kissed.

  “And how long have you two known each other again?” I finally asked.

  Lily batted her eyelashes. “Only three months. And I know that’s not a long time, but Vincent and I both know what we want.”

  “Which is?” I prompted.

  She burst into giggles. “To get married, of course! Mona, please, will you be my maid of honor?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  OKAY, I’LL ADMIT IT. I’D devoted a great deal of my life thinking about weddings.

  When I was a little girl I could spend hours looking through my parents’ wedding photos. They got married in 1956, and my mother wore a tea-length dress of satin and tulle. Their wedding was small, only three bridesmaids and groomsmen, but they had a flower girl who tossed rose petals before the blushing bride, and a ring bearer proudly carried the matching bands.

  I spent way too much time and energy planning my own wedding—especially when you considered how it turned out. Back then, I just cut pictures out of magazines and Elmer’s-glued them all in a notebook. With three daughters, I’d found myself thinking about weddings again over the past few years. After all, Miranda was a beautiful young woman, about to graduate college. In fact, thanks to a few summers taking extra classes, she was graduating a semester early and was getting a head start on paying back those student loans. Lauren had had the same serious boyfriend since her senior year in high school. Jessica has had one boyfriend or another since the tender age of thirteen. So it was only natural for me to start fantasizing a bit.

  Now, I knew that members of my daughters’ generation were not that into relationships. They mostly hung out and hooked up. But there was a whole section on Pinterest dedicated to weddings, and surely that couldn’t be just for hopeful mothers like myself. Somewhere people were getting married, and I was determined to be ready.

  I had several Pinterest boards, all of them private, dedicated to these imaginary weddings—for Lauren and Miranda and Jessica, Jessica’s being the smallest. Let’s face it: it’s hard to put together wedding looks that combine black leather, piercings, gauges, and tattoos. I even had a board of my own. I picked out so many mother-of-the-bride dresses I could waste almost an hour looking through them. I’d Googled bands and deejays, bookmarked favorite destination wedding sites, and even created a file titled “Wedding Words.” But I never thought I’d have to think about my aunt marrying a retired wise guy.

  And yet…

  “Aunt Lily, really? How wonderful!” I hugged her, then turned to hug Vinnie.

  He wasn’t very tall and smelled of subtle and expensive aftershave. His cheek was smooth and his smile brilliant. He was a very attractive man—think Frank Vincent, but older and more dangerous looking.

  “Lily was afraid you’d have, ah, reservations,” he said softly.

  Gosh, let’s think—Lily was a very wealthy woman, introduced to Vinnie by his nephew, a known mafioso. True, Vinnie was probably filthy rich, but the extra million or two couldn’t hurt. They were planning on getting married after knowing each other for just three months—what possible reservations could there be?

  “If Lily is happy, I’m happy,” I said. And I meant it. Aunt Lily looked better than she had in years, and I was glad for her.

  “We see no reason to wait,” Aunt Lily said. “After all, it’s not like this is a first marriage for either of us. We were thinking the spring. Maybe April?”

  Anthony, coming up behind me, murmured in my ear, “How appropriate. April fools?”

  Very apropos. Anyone who would think about marrying a person after knowing them only a few months was a fool. After all, Ben and I had been together for years, and I knew I’d have a lot of thinking to do before I gave him an answer. How could Lily be so sure after just a few months?

  MarshaMarsha had tears in her eyes. “I’m so thrilled for you both. Imagine, finding love again after all these years.”

  Dear MarshaMarsha. She really meant it. The woman could find a silver lining anywhere.

  Patricia got practical. “And what’s your living situation, Vincent? Are you living with family as well?”

  The compound in the Godfather movies flashed through my head.

  Vinnie smiled. “I have my own place. In Bay Ridge. There’s plenty of room for Lily.” He kissed Lily’s cheek, and she gave him another sip of martini. How cute.

  “Bay Ridge? Oh, Aunt Lily, how nice. You’ll be back in Brooklyn,” I said.

  She sighed. “Yes. I’ve loved living here, of course, but I can’t wait to get back to Brooklyn. First we’re going to Sicily. For our honeymoon.”

  Patricia had miraculously rearranged the cheese and fig jam, added grapes and a few sliced pears, and unearthed a box of multigrain crackers. “Vincent, some wine?” she asked.

  Vinnie shook his head. “No, thank you. I have a meeting in Manhattan later this evening. I need a clear head.” He smi
led. “I just wanted to come out here with Lily and meet you, Mona. I know how important you are to her. I want us to be friends.”

  Of course we’ll be friends, Vinnie. We’ll be whatever you want.

  “Vinnie, I can tell just by looking at her how happy my aunt Lily is. You and I are going to get along just fine. It’s just going to take me a bit to get used to the idea, you know?”

  He came around and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Take all the time you need, Mona. Until April, that is.” He laughed. I smiled uneasily.

  I walked with him out the kitchen door. A black Lincoln Town Car was parked in my driveway, and a young man in a dark suit jumped out of the front seat to open the back door. Lily and Vinnie murmured together, then he slipped into the backseat. The young man shut the door, nodded briefly to Lily, and drove off.

  My aunt and I stood together in the chill fall air. She was beaming. “Isn’t he something?” she exclaimed.

  I took a deep breath. “Ah, yes, Aunt Lily, he certainly is. How did you meet him again?”

  We walked back into the house. Lily sat down and scrutinized the tray before her, delicately picking up a slice of pear and a chunk of cheese. “Joe—you know my friend Joe—arranged a blind date. I told him I wasn’t interested in meeting a man, not at my age, but I had mentioned that I’d felt a little lonely since you were in California. He was so insistent, Joe was, so I agreed to coffee in Park Slope. Vincent was so sweet! We went to the botanical garden. You know that’s one of my favorite places.” She chewed delicately, swallowed, then sipped more martini. “He quite swept me off my feet.”

  Patricia was staring at Lily with open admiration. Anthony had unearthed my laptop and was squinting at the screen. I didn’t want to know what he had found online about Vinnie “I’ll Be Here for Thanksgiving” DeMatriano.

  MarshaMarsha was all smiles. “Lily, I am so happy. I’d been seeing the car, of course, and wondered what was going on.”

  I turned to MarshaMarsha. “You saw the car? The black Town Car?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It started few weeks ago. Parked here at night, and still here in the morning.”

  I felt my jaw drop. “The car spent the night? As in, staying over? As in, Vinnie-spending-the-night over?”

  Aunt Lily rolled her eyes. “Really, Mona, Vincent and I are both adults, you know. Surely you can’t object to us spending the night together.”

  So many things were going through my head that for a moment I was incapable of coherent speech. Patricia continued to look astounded.

  Ben threw me a wicked look. “Yeah, Mona. They’re both adults,” he said.

  “Of course I don’t object, Aunt Lily. I have to wonder, though—what about the driver? Where did he spend the night?”

  She was examining a grape. “In the guest room, of course. His name is Tony. I couldn’t have him sleeping in the car, now, could I? A very nice young man. He’s also, I think, a bodyguard. He follows Vincent everywhere.”

  Tony the Bodyguard sleeping in my guest room. Perfect.

  Patricia leaned forward, her eyes glittering with interest. “Does Vincent have any children?”

  Lily had found the grape satisfactory, ate it, then chose another. “Yes, three daughters. And seven grandchildren. Can you imagine? He says he spoils them all rotten. I believe him. Vincent is very tenderhearted.”

  “I’m sure,” Patricia said. She was obviously intrigued. “And he lives in Bay Ridge?”

  Lily smiled. “Yes. It’s a big house right across from the river. Very nice. There’s a lovely pool in the back and a small garden. He grows his own tomatoes.”

  MarshaMarsha was still smiling happily. “Where were you thinking of getting married, Lily?”

  “Vincent suggested just having a ceremony at his house, you know, something very small and simple, with wine and food afterward. We were thinking about one of those big tents, you know? With portable heaters. April has become a bit of a weather challenge the past few years. But his yard is small, with the pool and the garden, so I thought maybe we could have something here. There’s so much more room; and let’s face it, the backyard is perfect for this sort of thing. Mona, you have thrown some amazing parties here in the past.” She smiled innocently at me.

  Anthony’s head shot up. Patricia’s eyes actually widened in surprise. MarshaMarsha beamed. Ben tilted his head, and his mouth twitched.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but, oddly, no words came out. My martini glass was empty, but Aunt Lily still had almost half a glass. I reached over, took it from her hand, and downed the contents in one quick gulp.

  “My backyard?”

  “Oh, Mona, it would be perfect,’ Lily said.

  “In April?”

  She nodded.

  I took a deep breath. So many things could happen between now and April. Including Lily realizing that maybe marrying this relative stranger was not the best idea after all.

  “Sure,” I said. “Why not?”

  Aunt Lily, Patricia, Anthony, Ben, and I ended up all going out for dinner the night before. MarshaMarsha had wanted to come with us, but she was in various sports-related carpools involving three of her four sons and was booked for the night. The five of us ended up at the pub. I sat there listening, looking at Ben once in a while to see him leaning forward, obviously happy and excited for Lily.

  Lily gushed about what a wonderful guy Vincent was as Patricia and Anthony pumped her for more info on his past.

  Vincent had stepped away from the family business fifteen years before, when his son-in-law, while in the service of Joe DeMatriano, mysteriously vanished during what should have been a routine exchange of a suitcase full of cash for some incriminating information on a local politician. Vincent’s daughter had been devastated, of course, and had apparently suggested the police look into the situation. Out of respect for Vincent, said daughter—along with both of her sons—was encouraged to go on a long cruise around the world, rather than just disappearing into the Great Swamp. Vincent realized that his nephew was not putting family first in quite the same way as his father, the original Joey “Two Shoes,” had. So Vincent retired, taking millions of dollars and countless secrets with him.

  My aunt seemed to find nothing wrong with Vinnie’s previous life, and repeatedly told us all that he was nothing more than a quiet, retired businessman. All night long I thought about their wedding taking place in my backyard, in a huge white tent lit with hundreds of candles. Maybe two tents—one with a portable bar and long tables for catered food, the other laid with a dance floor and a small band tucked into a corner. There was more than enough room, and guests could use the bathroom right off the kitchen. I also kept having flashes of long black cars parked along the tree-lined street in front of my house, with plainclothes detectives taking down license plate numbers.

  Isn’t that what happened in the Godfather movies?

  I slept well. I always slept well when Ben spent the night. When I woke the next morning, very early, I was surrounded by balls of fur. The cats had all forgiven me for leaving them alone with Lily for so long, and Fred had curled up against my feet during the night. There had barely been room for Ben, but we managed. I could hear the shower going. No matter how early I woke up, it seemed that Ben was always awake just a little bit sooner.

  Lana, my oldest and favorite cat, was watching me when I opened my eyes, her tail twitching. She was gold and white and very beautiful, and I had named her for the blond actress Lana Turner. The other two cats were Joan and Olivia—also very lovely—but Lana was my girl. She permitted me exactly twenty-three seconds to scratch her under her chin before she got up and stalked off.

  When Aunt Lily first moved in with me, she had set up shop in the guest room. After it was apparent that she was in for the long haul, I had the attic space redone for her. The attic was originally going to be my writer’s sanctuary, and for years I envisioned it as a haven against the distraction of the everyday world, a place where I could get away and reflect on my life and cra
ft. But it finally occurred to me that I was not really the reflective type, so I had Ben call in his cadre of professionals and made over the attic into a three-room suite for Lily, freeing up the guest room for actual guests, like Tony the Bodyguard.

  I glanced at the doorway at the top of her stairs on the way down to the kitchen. It was closed. It looked like she was sleeping in.

  I made myself some coffee, toasted an English muffin, and sat in my quiet kitchen. When the kitchen had been redone years ago, I put in stainless steel everything and sleek granite countertops. The space was L-shaped—the kitchen, with its breakfast bar and eating area, in the long portion, and a TV room tucked into the short end. It was where I did most of my living, and I always felt most comfortable there.

  I’d spent some part of last evening trying to rationalize the difference between Lily and myself, and came up with an obvious answer: Lily had been thinking about this for a while. This was not a snap decision on her part. Obviously she and Vinnie had talked things out, weighed the pros and cons, and concluded that being married made sense to them. I still didn’t get how they could arrive at that conclusion after only three months, but it explained why my answer to “Will you marry me?” was still forthcoming. I had quite a way to go before finding an answer.

  I opened up my laptop and began to work. I sent lots of e-mails. I read lots of blogs and went through my seemingly endless reading list to try to catch up with the current state of publishing. It did not look good. Then I went to Pinterest.

  Ben came downstairs, his hair still damp from his shower. He took a cup of coffee and sat down across from me.

  “That’s some news about Lily,” he said.

  I nodded. I was not ready for a conversation about marriage. Not anyone’s.

  “I guess,” I finally said, “that it’s good to know she’ll have someone to share her life with. She’s been lonely.”

  “But it’s more than that, don’t you think? I mean, she seems to really love him.”