Stir Until Petrified

by Theda Vallee

  “I’ve looked into it. I think we might have a case. It’d be so much better for you as the injured party, to have the blessing of annulment. If you seek divorce, you’ll not be allowed to wed in the church again. That would be a shame. You’re young enough to find a good man and settle down. A few years from now, you can have another baby, move on with things.”

  “Because popping out babies and finding a man is the only way I’ll ever find joy in this life?” I said, tossing a cookie into the bag with force.

  How many times had I heard someone tell me to just have another baby? Find another man. As if either of those things would solve all the problems in my life. The cookie grasped delicately in my tongs was half a second from being launched into his face.

  “I’m sorry. I appreciate the thought. I’m not ready to think about another family yet. When I am, you’ll be one of the first to know.” I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything else. I managed to get his cookies into the bag without bouncing any of them off his face.

  He stared at me like I was the most unfortunate soul he’d ever meet. “I really want you to think about it, Etta. This may be just what you need to get closure. A new romance with the blessing of God isn’t a bad thing to want.” He smiled as he took the bag. “I’ve heard many of the single men admire the beauty God saw fit to give you. There’s no shame in being given a gift. The lord wouldn’t want you to waste away in this bakery.”

  “I think I agree with the Father here. You need to get out of this bakery with me. Let the world see that beautiful face.” My heart stopped beating for half a second as the sexy deep timbre from the nightclub added its two cents to the conversation. I’d been so wrapped up in wanting to cookie punch Father Lopez I hadn't heard the bell over the door ring. Which meant he’d most likely heard me discussing my love life with a priest, and I looked like crap. For the first time in my life, I wished I could use my magic to shift into a bird and fly out of the bakery. A stunt like that would probably ensure I got on the Osservatori’s radar, if I wasn't there already.

  “See, Etta? God works in mysterious ways,” Father Lopez said grinning at me. “Hello, young man, I’m Father Lopez. Who might you be?” He extended his hand to the much taller man enthusiastically. He seemed certain God had just manifested an answer to his prayers. “Nice to meet you, Father. Lucio DeFiero. Most people call me Luc. I just moved here a few weeks ago.” He enveloped the smaller man’s hand in his own.

  “Are you Catholic, Luc?” Always on the look at for converts, Father eyed him with keen interest.

  “Actually, I am. I have been attending St. Joseph’s over on Sixth with Father Reilly.”

  “Well, should you ever want to be inspired by the Holy Spirit stop by Our Lady of the Rosary. My sermons incorporate things that are important today with the things God needs us to remember from the past. It’s progressive and exciting. St. Joseph’s is better suited for an older crowd. Which is perfectly fine for someone with a little gray in his hair.” He nudged Luc with his elbow while laughing at his own humor.

  Father Lopez had priest rivalry. Anytime someone mentioned another priest, he went out of his way to make sure you knew his prayers were the best prayers in town. I felt like he was breaking a commandment on that front, but I wasn’t an expert.

  “Thanks, Father. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Well don’t let me keep you two from talking. I’ll see you tomorrow dear. Please give your grandmother my heartfelt thanks for feeding this old man’s sweet tooth.” Father Lopez proceeded to wink at me like a villain from a nineteen twenties silent film before he departed, shoveling cookies into his mouth as he went, leaving me alone with my dream man. Damn it.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I plastered on my best “you’re just any other customer” smile and hoped for the best.

  “I had a craving for some delicious Italian pastries and heard this was the go-to place in town.”

  “We like to think so. Everything is made from scratch daily. We use only the best ingredients, sourced locally. Anything in particular you’re looking for?” So far so good. Just an ordinary customer.

  “I heard this bakery was run by a very beautiful woman, who had no intention of calling me after we met the other night. With the “you’re just another customer” spiel I’m getting from, I have a feeling I’m right. You weren't going to call me, were you?” His lips spread with a cocky smile that radiated at me from across the counter. His damn dimples popped out as if on cue. There was no way he didn't know exactly what he was doing.

  “Guilty. I wasn’t going to call you. I’m just so busy and not looking to date anyone right now. I’m married to my work,” I said gesturing to the case of pastries.

  “I get that, but you have to eat, right? Come on have dinner with me. It’s something you’re going to do anyway,” He said as he leaned against the counter casually.

  “I’m going to eat dinner, and it’s probably going to be a bowl of cereal that I spoon down while standing in the kitchen for five minutes.”

  “Done. What time should I pick you up?”

  Oh, he thought he was cute. Well, he was. Unfortunately, with the Osservatori in town I wasn’t leaving this bakery anytime soon. I opened my mouth to turn him down yet again but heard my sister’s voice come out instead.

  “She’d love to. But you have to promise to take her out for real food, not a bowl of cereal,” Nerina said, ignoring my glare.

  “Thanks, Nerina, I can answer for myself. Luc, I’m sure you’re a nice guy. I have a lot on my plate and it’s just not the right time for me to start trying to get to know someone.”

  Nerina elbowed me hard in the ribs. “Obviously the lack of sleep is getting to you, because I’m pretty sure you meant to tell Luc that you’d love to go to dinner tonight.” She smiled showing all her teeth like a predator gleefully contemplating its next meal.

  “Can you excuse us for a second?” I spat out.

  I grabbed Nerina firmly by the elbow. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I shoved her through the swinging door into the kitchen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I can’t go on a date right now. The Osservatori are breathing down our necks, the last thing I need is to have them catch up to me while I’m on a date with the super-hot guy out there.”

  “Don’t you think they would’ve come by now if they were coming? Obviously, they’re here for something else. So, shut your big whiny mouth and let the man take you to dinner.” I opened my mouth to protest but Nerina quickly clamped her hand over it. “No. You’re going to make all these excuses. Blah blah blah. I’m Etta. I’m sad. My life sucks. I can’t date anyone because I want to be like Joan of Arc forever.”

  I pried her hand off my mouth with little effort. My upper arm strength was amazing from hours of kneading bread. “What the hell has Joan of Arc got to do with anything?”

  “Duh, she was a martyr. Did you not pay attention in Sunday school?”

  “I’m not trying to be a martyr. I just don’t know how to do this. How do I go out and have a good time with someone like my daughter isn't missing? Or like I’m not terrified I’m going to get arrested any second now?” I really wanted an answer. How was it possible to try and live a normal life?

  “I can’t pretend to have the answer. All I can say is we’ve all been quiet letting you do it your way for years. Maybe it’s time to give someone else’s method a try?” She said draping her arm over my shoulders. “My method is, go. Have a nice night. Have a few nice nights with the guy. Get laid. Try to be a human again for just a few hours.”

  Since when did Nerina have such good advice. I didn't know if it would work, but what did I have to lose? Maybe it was time to try something new. Going on one date with Luc wasn’t going to alter my emo street cred. I could still jump right back into permanent mourning the second it was done.

  “OK.”

  “Damn it, Etta! Wait did you just say OK? Shut up! No. OK, hurry. Go tell him before he runs away.” She shoved me t
hrough the swinging door before I could say another word. I stood against the swinging door paralyzed with fear. My mouth had become a dessert as panic sucked all the salvia from my mouth. Luc stood there staring at me expectantly. I was about to say yes, but my body was fighting me.

  “Before you say anything, let me just say something. Give me, just one dinner. If you have a horrible time I’ll never darken your doorstep again. If you don’t say yes, I’ll take that as a challenge. I have a lot of time on my hands for the next few weeks. I could potentially show up every day until you say yes,” he said, leaning across the counter toward me.

  “How very stalker of you.”

  He let out another one of those deep rumbling laughs that had turned me to mush the night at the club. “You really have to say yes. I’d love to spend the evening anticipating what you’ll say.”

  “Fine. Dinner tonight, and then you never come back. Even if you really love the pastries. Speaking of pastries, have you decided what you want?”

  A smiled beamed back at me from across the counter, his eyes crinkling in delight. “How about a slice of the fontina cheesecake. I’ve never even heard of such thing. I have to imagine it’s decadent.”

  Slicing off a piece, I shoved it into a to go box and slid it across the counter. Luc grabbed a fork obviously planning to continue the conversation. He shoveled a bite into his mouth closing his eyes slightly as he let the flavors sink in. “I hope you enjoy yourself. It’d be a shame to never eat this cheesecake again. Will eight be good for you?”

  “I guess that’ll work. Where are we going?” I should figure out how to dress. Nerina would probably never let me go out with what I had on. That was a shame because these pants were comfortable.

  “Do you like Thai food? I’ve heard that the Thai Village downtown is great. If that sounds good, we could go there first, then maybe hit the bowling alley for a little bit.”

  “That sounds great. I’ll see you at eight.” I said, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

  “I suppose that means I’m dismissed? I’ll see you in a few hours.” That cocky smile of his played across his lips as I watched him leave.

  What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

  Nerina came squealing out of the kitchen bouncing up and down like I’d just been nominated homecoming queen. “I can’t believe you said yes! We should close early to get you ready. We have so much to do! Waxing, plucking, make-up, hair, and picking out your outfit! This is going to take hours.”

  “We’re not closing early. I’m not letting you torture me in the name of beauty.” I tried to sound resolute. Secretly I hoped she’d bully me into it. I had no clue where to start.

  “Nope. You’re not shutting me out of this. I’ve been hoping for someone to show up to sweep you off your feet for years. We’re not leaving this to chance. Nonna! Nonna! NONNA!” her voice echoed through the entire building.

  “What are you doing? She doesn't need to get involved. He just asked me out while I look like crap on toast. I’m pretty sure just taking a shower and putting jeans on will be a huge improvement.” The alarm in my voice hopefully clued her into the fact that I wanted to keep this as low key as possible. We didn’t need to drag everyone in to this.

  “Nerina, you’re screaming like a hooligan. I’m in the kitchen. What could be so important you scream like that for.” Nonna shoved through the door leading to the kitchen, smacking Nerina with a wooden spoon as she arrived.

  “OW! Nonna, that’s gonna leave a mark. This is important! Etta’s going on a date! This cute, nice guy we met at the club the other night came to the store just now, because he knew Etta wasn't going to call him, and he totally told her she was going on a date with him because she was beautiful and needed to get out of the bakery. And so, we need to close a little early today because, well, because look at her! I’m really surprised he still asked her out once he got a look at her hobo-not-so chic look. But anyway, he still asked her out, she said yes and now we have a lot of work to do which totally can’t wait until six o’clock because he is picking her up at eight.”

  Nerina finished her tirade, leaving Nonna stunned for a moment.

  “One day I believe you will die from lack of oxygen. Etta, you have a date?” Nonna asked raising her eyebrow. “Are we sure this is not just some trick for your sister to get out of work this afternoon?”

  “No tricks. I have a date. His name is Luc. We danced some at the club the other night. He’s the one that gave me his number, but I threw it away. I forgot until just a few minutes ago I’d told him where I worked. He showed up and asked me out.” My stomach turned with anxiety just saying the words.

  “Where will he take you?”

  “A Thai restaurant and bowling.”

  “Are you sure he is not a creeper? That is odd he would come here looking for you if you did not call.” Nonna was always on the lookout for men she considered creepers. I had a feeling ninety percent of the male population fit into that category.

  “I don’t think he’s a creeper, Nonna. He seems like a totally nice guy. He has dimples. Guys with dimples are not predators,” Nerina said with authority. You’d think she had conducted years of research on the topic.

  “I’ll watch the counter. There’s nothing in the back that cannot wait for tomorrow. Go get in the shower. Your sister must figure out something to make you look presentable. You’re such a pretty girl but you hide behind sloppiness.” She moved her hands in a shooing motion taking her place at the front counter.

  I loved my family but sometimes it was a pain in the ass that they were so involved in my life. Normal people get asked out and spend a few hours getting ready on their own. I get asked out and my family made it a group mission. We really needed to get some hobbies outside of each other.

  Chapter

  4

  I stood in front of my closet, soaking the floor with my dripping hair. I forlornly stared at my wardrobe. I hated everything I owned. Why had I gone for dowdy all these years? I hadn’t wanted to go on this date, but I’d said yes, so I really wanted to look good. Like, eat your heart out good. I wanted to open the door and watch his eyes pop out of his head, and his tongue roll to the floor like in the cartoons. Was that too much to ask?

  “You’re not wearing anything in that closet tonight,” Nerina said as she entered my room.

  “Well, what am I supposed to wear? We don’t have time to go shopping. The only thing you own that fits me is spandex.” I sighed “I’m doomed. I’m going to look like a frumpy lump of boring.”

  “Lucky for you, you have an amazing family. I called Gia, she’s on her way with a trunk load of super cute options. She answered the Bat signal as soon as I flashed it. Aunt Sophia’s coming with her though. Not sure what help she’ll be, but between the three of us we’ll get you ready for tonight.”

  Gia and Aunt Sophia ran a consignment boutique a few blocks from our bakery. The nouveau rich women residing in our sleepy beach town needed some place to pass off their hand me downs. I’m not sure how they’d feel about the lady from the bakery borrowing their items for a date, but I wasn't going to tell them.

  “So, from all my recon efforts, I think Luc is a super classy guy. Our mission tonight is to make you clexy to match,” Nerina said as she rummaged through my jewelry.

  “What the hell is clexy? I’m pretty sure you just made that up.” I shook my head at her nonsensical word.

  “Classy and sexy. Clexy? You’ve heard that before?” Her tone of voice implied that I was clearly the stupid one in this conversation.

  “No. I don't think anyone has. What makes you think he’s classy? Classy guys don't usually pick up random women in bars.”

  “If you would’ve stopped your drooling for five minutes you might have picked up on the classy part. His watch was expensive. It was a Jaeger-LeCoultre piece. He was wearing about ten grand on his arm. If the guy was trashy he’d try to be all about the swagger and wear a Rolex. Not many people would notice he had a couple gra
nd on his arm unless you really know watches.”

  “How the hell do you know watches?” I’d noticed the watch. It had been nice.

  “Hello? I can read. Besides, it’s my job to know about men,” Nerina said turning to face me.

  “You work in a bakery.”

  “I’m not just a cashier in our little bakery. I’m a love consultant too, remember? Which, by the way, is really difficult to sell when your sister rolls her eyes at anyone who mentions the word love. Anyway, on to clue number two.” She said holding two fingers up for emphasis. “All his clothing was designer but understated. Nothing he was wearing cost under two hundred bucks. There were no labels flashing anywhere though. He doesn't get off on people knowing he buys expensive clothes. He just wears them because those are the kind of stores he’s used to shopping in.”

  “OK, Sherlock you proved your point. So how the hell am I going to look classy? I think everything in my closet might total two hundred bucks collectively.” I threw a hideous blouse back into the closet in frustration.

  Was she right? Was he some classy rich guy slumming it in Palermo Bay? If so, I was going to panic. There was no way I could hold the interest of a guy like that.

  “Who’s ready to get clexy?” Gia hollered as she entered the room.

  “Are you kidding me?” I rolled my eyes.

  Gia cheerily dumped an armload of clothing onto my bed. “I’m so excited, Etta! I can’t believe you’re going out on a date! Not just a date, but a date with a really freaking gorgeous guy. We are going to make you look so amazing!”

  If squealing were an Olympic sport Nerina and Gia would be gold medalists. Their enthusiasm was contagious. The butterflies that’d been bouncing around in my stomach since I’d agreed to this date settled themselves to a light flutter. I was feeling a little excited. There was no way these two were going to let me walk out of the house looking anything less than stunning. I was going out with a sexy foreign man who seemed like he might be able to hold a conversation with a modicum of intelligence. I mean, if that was not something to get a little excited about I don’t know what was.