You never know. From a Food Therapy perspective it is quite possible.
Anyway, the arrangements are all set. Fr. Jim agreed to marry them next Friday night, and afterwards we’ll all go to dinner in Atlantic City. Lucy asked me to be her maid of honor (obviously), but told me I could wear whatever dress I wanted. She’s not buying a wedding dress, or even getting her hair done. She just wants to marry my brother and doesn’t care about all of the hoopla like invitations, cakes, flowers, and dresses.
But I have a strange feeling that it’s all sort of an act. Like she’s putting up a wall.
In fact, I know it. I know Lucy wants something nice, but since her father’s not speaking to her, she feels bad about celebrating.
I just hope my parents take it a little better than Mr. Caulden.
But if they don’t… well, I’m not even going to think of that.
“We’ll mail the invitations next week,” Gina says as I walk into the dining room. I know weddings are a big deal and all, but honestly, she could learn a lot from Lucy.
“Hello,” my mom chirps. “We’re finalizing the guest list for the invitations.” She throws me a glance that says she’s in total agony. Damn Gina and her stupid plans.
I smile and shuffle into the kitchen, pour myself a cup of coffee, and try to think of a way to change the subject.
“Do you think Lucy will bring a date?” Gina asks when I walk into the dining room.
I’m caught off guard and nearly spit out my coffee. They look at me. “I think she might.”
“Oh, is she seeing someone?” my mom asks, genuinely interested. Lucy’s never had a real boyfriend before, so this is big news.
“Um, I’m not sure,” I lie. I can feel the sweat beading up on my head. “I mean, it’s a wedding, everyone brings dates.”
“So true.” Gina starts flipping through pages of her yellow legal pad.
That was close.
Unlike most normal brides, Gina is not looking to cut down her list, but instead, she’s looking to add people. She promised the Botanical Gardens that at least 300 guests would show up, and now they have to pay for 300 regardless. When my mother told them to go low, Gina didn’t pay any attention. Now she looks at her guest list and seems unsure. “Who are you bringing?”
They both look at me. I reach for a cookie.
Honestly, I hadn’t really given it any thought. I mean, until last week I thought I’d be there with Drew, and the whole night we’d be talking about what we wanted at our wedding. Now I’ve joined the ranks of the pathetic bridesmaids who don’t have a date and are forced to dance with the bride’s middle-aged cousin all night. Oh God. Gina is from Long Island, which means that her single cousins are extra guidos.
They’re still waiting for an answer.
“No one.” I shrug it off as if it doesn’t matter.
Gina sighs and flips through her list. “Can’t you bring someone?”
“I’d rather not.” I reach for my second cookie of the morning. Damn these things are good.
“What about Roberto?” my mom interjects.
I wrinkle my nose. I want to explode on her, but I know I can’t. Not with Lorenzo and Lucy’s bug announcement coming her way this morning.
“He’s already on the list,” Gina sighs, exasperated. “According to Martha Stewart only seventy-three percent of your invited guests will actually attend. That means that to get three 300 people, I need to invite 411. Right now the list is only at 382.” She looks as though she might cry.
“For God’s sake, Gina. Calm down. It’ll be fine. What does Martha Stewart know anyway?” my mom blurts. She’s not as good with this wedding stuff as I am.
Gina looks as though her head may pop off. “Martha Stewart is the queen of weddings!”
“She’s divorced,” my mom adds the last word the way we DiLucios know how. Martha Stewart may be the queen of weddings, but she couldn’t hold her marriage together, so my mother discredits everything she says.
I smile and take a sip of my coffee. “We can start inviting customers,” I say jokingly.
“That’s a great idea. Who can we add?” Gina lights up and grabs her pen.
“Are you crazy,” my mom says, shooting me a look. “None of our customers even know you. Pietro never worked a day in the restaurant. And now that we’re closing it will look like we’re begging for friends.”
Gina throws her pen on the pad. “I guess we’ll just have to pay for empty seats.”
Before my mom can start her “I told you so” tirade, I jump in. “What about the photographer’s dinner? And the wait staff? Their meals can come off head count.” I know exactly what I’m talking about because I’ve read so many restaurant management books.
Ok, maybe not so many. But I’ve read a few.
“Yes!” Gina squeals. She counts the crew who will pull the wedding together and starts writing their names on the list.
“How was last night?” my mom asks, eager to change the subject.
“It was good. Where’s Dad?”
“He went shopping off-shore. I think he’s at Wal-Mart.”
My father is addicted to shopping at low-end chain stores. He likes to browse through the aisles slowly, looking at all the potential savings. Usually he only buys small things, like shampoo or crackers, but he’s been known to make a large dent in the credit card bills. One time he spent a whopping $900 on various household products, replacing our old toaster and microwave with lesser models, which only lasted a year. Still, he loves a bargain. He could be shopping for hours. I look at the clock. It’s already 9:30. Lorenzo and Lucy will be over in one hour.
This was not in the plan.
I eat another cookie. I’ve always been an emotional eater, eating more when I’m stressed or worried, or even bored. Lucy is just the opposite. She runs to get her frustrations out, though she’s been feeling too sick to lace up her sneakers lately. I think of running upstairs to call her, but I don’t move. I don’t want to look suspicious.
Pietro and Dante come downstairs. “Good morning,” they say and walk into the kitchen for coffee.
God, why is everyone up so early?
Dante sits at the table and takes a cookie. “So, I just got an email from the headmaster,” he says looking at me.
What do I care about his headmaster?
“Is everything OK?” my mom asks. Even though my brother has tenure at Philadelphia’s top private school, she still worries about job security.
“Yeah, they actually got notice that one of the English teachers is leaving. The headmaster asked about Stella.”
I can barely swallow my coffee. How does the headmaster even know I was an English major? “Why did he ask about me?”
“He wanted to invite you to apply.”
My mother’s eyes light up. “That would be amazing, Stella. You could teach during the off season!” She’s so excited at the possibility of her daughter actually using her overpriced college degree.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I never even thought about teaching.”
“Well start thinking,” Pietro says. “St. Iggy’s is the best school in Philly. You won’t get an opportunity like this again.”
It annoys me when my brothers think they know what’s best.
“But maybe I don’t want to teach,” I snap.
“Why not?” my mom snaps back. “Siete tutti pazzi.”
The last thing I wanted to do was to start my mom on that number. Especially when Lorenzo is coming in with huge news of his own.
But now I’m upset. I hate it when my family gangs up on me.
“Think of how great it would be to work with Dante and Lucy,” Gina chips in. Now she’s telling me what to do? She’s not even family yet.
“Yes, that would be amazing!” my mom adds.
“There’s no harm in applying,” Dante says. “You can always say no after the interview if you don’t want the job.”
I know he’s right, yet somehow, I feel that if I did interview and were to say no
, it would look bad for him. “I’ll think about it,” I say, hoping to end the conversation.
“Think about what?” Mario says walking into the kitchen. “What’s everyone screaming about?”
“Your sister is going to be a teacher!” my mom says getting up to get him coffee.
“Teaching what?” Mario asks sarcastically.
“English,” I say defensively. Two seconds ago I was unsure and now I’m defending myself. What’s going on this morning?
Lorenzo walks through the door first. “Hey,” he says as we all turn to look at him. Lucy follows close behind. “We have something to say.”
My heart begins to pound. Are they going to do this right now? In front of everyone? I shoot him a look but he doesn’t see me. This is not at all how we planned things. After we talked on Thursday the plan was to speak to my parents alone. I was going to stay close by so that I could step in if needed. This is totally different. My dad isn’t even here.
“Why don’t you guys have a seat? I made some cookies,” I say hoping he’ll get the hint.
“What’s going on?” Mario asks. He’s the only other person who saw Lucy vomit in the kitchen that day, and now I think he suspects something. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.
“Maybe you should wait until Dad gets home,” I reply before Lorenzo can even say a word.
“What is it?” my mom asks.
Damn it.
“Lucy and I are getting married.” Lorenzo takes her hand. He smiles widely and I’m happy that he’s so confident in his decision. Lucy looks a little green.
The room goes silent. I hold my breath, waiting for the big explosion.
“I didn’t even know you were dating,” says Pietro casually. He really doesn’t mean anything by it; since he lives away he misses some things.
“They’re not.” My mom stands. She looks visibly distressed and I know she understands what’s going on. For someone who’s so old fashioned, she sure catches on quickly.
I want to jump in but I know it’s not my place.
“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” Lorenzo says and looks at everyone. “We just wanted you to know. The wedding is next week.”
“What?” Gina says a bit too loudly. She realizes this and looks down at her list of invites, trying to fight off tears.
“What’s the rush?” Dante asks. God love him, he is so naïve when it comes to these things.
Everyone in the room is silent and you can cut the tension with a knife.
“Lucy’s pregnant.” Lorenzo squeezes her hand. He looks at her with love and I can tell that he’s excited about being a father.
My mother stoically walks away from the table. We all watch as she walks up the stairs in silence.
We’re stunned. It takes a lot to silence my mother. We’ve never seen her like this. We hear the creaking of the floorboards as she walks to her bedroom, then the boom of her door slamming.
It seems like I have a thousand steps to climb before I reach my mother’s bedroom. The door is still closed and as I knock on it, I feel like I’m a little girl who had a nightmare in the middle of the night. “Go away,” she screams.
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Stella I don’t want to look at anyone right now.”
I take a deep breath. “Mom, open the door.”
I wait for her to move but she doesn’t, so I turn the doorknob. I open it to see my mother lying face down on top of the bed. She looks up at me. Her eyes are puffy from crying and black mascara is streaked down her cheeks.
“Never in my life would I think one of my sons would do this,” she says as I walk towards her.
I sit on the bed and put my hand on her back. “Mom, they really love each other. They’re getting married.”
“Please,” she says as if the thought of it sickens her. “That little puttana trapped him.”
I’m shocked to hear my mom call Lucy a tramp. “Mom you love Lucy. You wanted her to date Dante.”
“That was before I knew her true character,” she says. “She had me fooled, and you too.”
This is worse than I thought.
“Mom, she didn’t fool anyone. And she’s still my best friend.”
My mother looks at me as if I’m crazy. “That’s the kind of friend you want? One who uses the entire family, and traps your innocent brother? She’s been calculating this one for years. And she goes after Lorenzo because he’s the most successful.” My mom starts sobbing.
She’s lost it. Seriously, she’s over the deep end.
“And you act as if you’re happy for them!” she screams at me. “Your twin brother! His life is over.”
I stand up. “Calm down, Mom.”
“You calm down, Stella. My son, my youngest son is marrying a puttana. How can I be calm?”
“Mom, they love each other. They’re getting married. They’re having a bab…”
She puts her hand up to stop me. “I don’t even want to think about it. My first grandchild, a bastard.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” I say and turn my back.
“Stella. I’m worried about your father. This will kill him.”
“Then you better start dealing with it in a different way,” I snap, my heart pounding. “Because it’s happening Mom. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
I close the door behind me and instantly regret being so harsh to my mother. Instead of smoothing things over, I pushed her away.
Still, she’s being unfair.
Lucy sniffles. “How’s your mom?”
“She’ll be fine,” I say swiftly, though I’m not so sure.
We hear keys in the door and for a moment, we’re all paralyzed. Mario stands. Pietro and Gina take Mario’s hint, and they all walk out towards the bay.
“Good luck,” Dante mutters and follows them.
My dad opens the door and smiles at us. He’s carrying five Wal-Mart plastic bags, and I see that he’s bought two kinds of soap, bug spray, and some toilet paper. I can’t tell what’s in the other bags. “Hello,” he chirps, taking his keys out of the door.
“Hi Dad.” Lorenzo starts walking towards him. “We have something to tell you.”
“Where’s your mother?” my dad asks in a panic. He can see that Lucy’s crying and Lorenzo looks on edge.
“She’s upstairs,” I say quickly.
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s… fine.”
“What’s going on then?” my dad asks placing the bags on the dining room table. He takes his wallet and cell phone out of his pocket and places them next to the bags.
Lorenzo doesn’t waste any time. “Dad, Lucy is pregnant,” he says as if ripping off a Band-Aid.
My dad steps back for a minute. “Lucy.” His eyes soften as he looks at her. “Are you all right? Can we help with anything?”
Oh God. He doesn’t understand.
She nods her head and looks at Lorenzo.
“Who’s the father?” my dad asks looking at me. He expects that since I’m her best friend, I’ll have the answers.
“I am,” Lorenzo says quietly.
“What?”
“I am, Dad. Lucy and I have been dating for a few months now.” He goes and stands next to her chair, placing his hand on her shoulder.
“Dating?” my dad booms.
Lorenzo speaks calmly. “Dad, we really love each other. We’re getting married.”
Dad sits in the chair next to Lucy. He looks pale.
I feel like I should leave the room but I can’t.
“We already talked to Fr. Jim. He agreed to marry us next week. We’ve been doing Pre-Cana with him in the mornings.”
My dad looks at Lucy and then up at Lorenzo. He takes a deep breath. “Let me go and check on your mother.”
We wait in silence for my father to return. Lucy continues to cry and I take her hand. “Luce, don’t get yourself all worked up. They’ll come around.” I squeeze her hand.
“I wrecked everything. Your parent
s hate me and my dad won’t even speak to me.”
My heart breaks for her. Instead of feeling joyful about her marriage and baby, my best friend is suffering inside. “Be strong,” I say though I wish I could think of something else.
Lorenzo paces back and forth nervously.
About an hour later, my father comes downstairs. “I need to ask you both to go. Your mother doesn’t want to see you.”
Lucy stands, her head down. She walks out of the kitchen and through the screen door.
“This is fucking bullshit.” Lorenzo yells. “After all I do for the family this is how I’m treated?”
“Lorenzo, go,” my father demands.
“You know what? You guys can have fun cooking in the restaurant tonight because I’m not doing it.” He walks out of the door, slamming it as he exits.
Recipe: Chocolate Chip Cookies for Good Karma
Yields 3 dozen
Even though things didn’t go exactly as I planned these cookies are still damn good.
Maybe if my parents would have eaten a few more, they wouldn’t be so angry with Lorenzo.
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
3 cups chocolate chips
1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2) Combine flour, baking soda, and salt in small bowl.
3) Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy.
4) Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
5) Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in chocolate chips.
6) Drop by rounded tablespoons onto ungreased baking sheets.
7) Bake for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes.
8) Place on wire racks to cool completely.
Chapter 14
Despite my attempts to call him, Lorenzo doesn’t answer his phone. It’s 2:30 p.m. and as of now, we have no chef. The phone is ringing off the hook with reservations and I don’t want to take any more. But it wouldn’t matter anyway. It’s Saturday; we’re already booked.
The Queen of Minor Disasters Page 15