Pennies From Heaven (The Bella Novella Collection Book 3) (5 page)

“Crazy?” I tried.

“No, they were—”

“Off their rockers?” I suggested.

“Bella, what I’m trying to say is, your family had money.”

“Wait. We did?” I tried to get my thoughts to reel backward in time, but they would not. D.J. thought we were well off?

“C’mon, Bella. You guys owned that huge house on Broadway and the big Victorian wedding facility next door. Your family also owned the most popular Italian restaurant on the Island. You might not have considered yourself a rich kid, but that’s kind of the assumption I came to when I first met your family.”

“You thought we were snobs?”

“No. It’s not that. I’m telling you, it was just an image I’d dreamed up in my head. And I think that’s the same thing Cec is facing.” He looked at our friend. “You have it planted in your mind that you’ll never measure up to the kind of man the Rigas family was hoping their daughter would marry. Am I right?”

“Wait. . .what?” Was that how D.J. had felt about my family, like they didn’t think he measured up? I put my hands on my hips, ready to dive back into the conversation but a gentle nudging from the Holy Spirit stopped me in my tracks. 

“Hate to say it, but you hit the nail on the head.” Cec paused and gave a little shrug.

“Nail on the head.” D.J. grinned. “Coming from a carpenter, that’s pretty good.”

“Aw, you know what I mean, D.J. You read my thoughts.”

“It’ll get easier with time, Cec. That’s all. It’ll get easier with time.” The two fellas dove into a conversation about in-laws and before long I turned my attention to Lily.

“You okay?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I really don’t know. Hadn’t expected any of this to be so. . .weird.”

“Hey, you’ve lived in Splendora all of your life, right? You’ve seen just about everything. This is one more bump in the road.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty big bump.” She paused and appeared to be lost in her thoughts.

“You okay over there?” I asked after a few moments of silence?”

“Yeah. Just thinking about Splendora. So strange to think we’ll be leaving the town where I’ve spent my whole life. It might be crazy here, but it’s my kind of crazy.”

“What?” I could hardly believe this news. “You’re
leaving
Splendora? Why?”

“Because Cecil’s work is mostly in Galveston and League City. South of here. But don’t worry, Jasmine’s going to keep things going at the wedding facility here. And I can always come back up for the really big events. Besides, this’ll mean we’re going to be neighbors. Cec and I are looking at apartments in Galveston soon.”

“Really? Well, that’s good.” I hated to give her even more to fret over but the idea of losing Lily as co-director of the Splendora wedding facility made me sad. Really sad. She and Jasmine were a great team.

“Don’t worry, Bella.” Lily gestured across the lawn at the townspeople, who still squabbled—loudly—over politics. “We’ve always got Twila, Bonnie Sue and Jolene to help.”

True. Only, from the looks of things, Twila, Bonnie Sue and Jolene were going to need to simmer down a bit before they could be trusted with anything as important as a bride’s big day. Until then, well. . .until then I’d be drinking a lot of sweet tea to cool down, myself.

CHAPTER FIVE

Faire l’andouille

Translation : to make the sausage

(To do something ridiculous)

On the first Tuesday in April I dropped off Tres at school, left the twins with my sister Sophia, and took Rosie to preschool. Then I headed to Club Wed, our family’s large Victorian wedding facility on Broadway. I walked in the door to the sound of our family parrot, Guido, singing
Amazing Grace
. The words calmed my spirit. Well, until Guido switched gears and started singing
All My Exes Live in Texas.

I remained in a jovial frame all morning, until I received a call from Lily around eleven o’clock. The bride-to-be released a long, exaggerated sigh.

“What’s wrong, Lily?”

“I don’t know what to do, Bella. I count on Twila, Bonnie Sue and Jolene for so many things, but now they’re not really on speaking terms with one another. I think Jolene hurt Twila’s feelings. All that stuff about her Spandex pants? You remember?”

“Right. But they’ve squabbled before. You know that. They always kiss and make up.”

“Hopefully in time for my wedding. You’ll never believe this, but Twila’s somehow got the people at City Hall involved in her argument with Jolene. I only know this because my dad’s the city planner now. And you wouldn’t believe the stress this is putting on my mom.”

“All of this because my uncle got Earline riled up.” I groaned. “If he’d left well enough alone, she wouldn’t have over-reacted. And if she hadn’t overreacted, none of the rest of this would’ve happened.”

“Laz was somewhere in the lineup of craziness, but it really involves the folks on this end. And don’t even get me started on Earline. Point is, the drama somehow landed in Twila’s lap and she’s definitely run with it, all the way to city hall.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll be happy to call her and see if she’ll make peace with everyone. She’s a Christian woman. Surely she’ll see the error of her ways.”

“While you’re at it, ask her to call my future mother-in-law. Moggie’s not speaking to me.”

“Wait. . .really?”

“Really. I pictured this peaceful garden scene on my wedding day and so far it looks like it’s going to be anything but. Remember that thing my dad said about pennies from heaven? I feel like they’re falling all over the place and taking people out, one by one.”

“We’ve still got a couple of weeks. Twila is a sensible woman and Uncle Laz. . .” My words drifted off. He wasn’t exactly a sensible man. But someone needed to put him in his place, not just politically, but in other ways, too. “I won’t say Uncle Laz is completely innocent, but he’s just bluffing. He’s not even political.”

“But all that talk about running for president. . .”

“He has an overactive imagination.” I paused and tried to figure out the best way to phrase this without incriminating Laz. “Look, my uncle is a goober. And he’s getting a little, shall we say. . .nuts in his old age.”

“I read an article about that not so long ago,” Lily said. “According to statistics, older people are much freer with their thoughts.”

“Which explains half of Splendora. And your parents, too. And my parents. And, well, most of the people we know. We live among free-speaking older folks. And who knows? Maybe we’ll be that way when we’re their age. You never know.”

“True, that.” She didn’t say anything for a moment and I wondered what was going through her mind.
“The only people who aren’t speaking freely are Cec’s parents,” Lily said at last. “I definitely don’t think they care for my family.”

“What have they done?”

“It’s more what they haven’t done. My parents invited them to dinner at that new steakhouse in Kingwood, but they said they had other plans. And Cec and I asked his mom if she’d help us pick out our registry items at Macy’s.  She said she had a headache. Seems no matter what we ask, they’re never available. How can I get close to them if they refuse to show up?”

I paused before adding my two cents’ worth, in part because I wanted to phrase things correctly, and in part because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Lily,” I said after a moment, “Could I suggest something?”

“Sure. Anything. I’m wide open to ideas.”

“I think Moggie Davidson is a great woman who loves her son and who will grow to love you very much. I mean, what’s not to love? You’re amazing.”

“Thank you, Bella.” Lily’s voice quivered.

“When it comes to the Davidsons, though, I think you need a different approach. They’re from a quiet, simple background. Rustic. Nothing uptown. I’d be willing to bet she just felt uncomfortable going to a high-end steakhouse with your family. If you’d said, “Meet us at Bubba’s BBQ she probably would’ve agreed, no problem.”

“You think? So, this goes back to what D.J. said at the engagement party? You really think they’re intimidated by my family?”

“Well, by your financial status, anyway.”

“That’s just silly, Bella.”

“No, it’s not. I honestly think they don’t know how to react to their son marrying into a family that they can’t relate to. And the only reason they are hesitant to get to know all of you is because they somehow feel less than. It’s just what D.J. said. They’re out of their element.”

“We’re normal people. We live in Splendora, for pity’s sake.”

“Right. You know that, and I know that, but I’m trying to see this through their eyes. Their son is marrying a businessman’s daughter. That businessman gave his daughter and future son-in-law an amazing trip to Paris as a wedding gift. It’s something they could never afford to do. It’s got to feel. . .awkward.”

Silence followed on Lily’s end.

“How do I fix this?” she said at last. “I’m the least pretentious person I know, so I never meant for them to feel intimidated. And I know my parents would never want that, either.”

“Right. So, invite her to help you register at Target or Wal-Mart. Ask them along for family stuff. Go fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“Eat barbecue. Take them to Bubba’s for ribs and banana pudding. Wear jeans and a t-shirt when you take them out. Tell your Mama to put away her Chanel #5 bottles until the wedding day. But most of all, just get to know them. Let them feel comfortable in their own skin around you.”

“I love you, Bella.” Her girlish sigh caught me off-guard. “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

“Girl, I have four kids, two wedding facilities and one of the craziest families on Galveston Island. I might be willing to swap places with you for a day or two, but I’m 99% sure you’d beg for your old life back.”

Lily laughed. “Okay, okay. No swapping. Besides, I’m too excited about getting married to swap lives with anyone at the moment. And despite all the chaos, we really are making progress.”

“I’ve covered some ground on this end, too.”

This led to a focused conversation about her Paris-themed wedding. We fine-tuned the details for the ceremony and the reception. When we finally came up for breath, Lily gasped.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you something, Bella. Bonnie Sue had the cutest idea.”

“What’s that?”

“It started when she heard that we wanted to use Cec’s little basset hound in the wedding.”

“
In
the wedding?”

“Sure. We don’t have a ring-bearer, so a dog would be so cute and sweet. Problem is, this particular pooch isn’t terribly obedient, if you catch my drift. In fact, he’s downright naughty.”

“That could be problematic.”

“Right. So, Bonnie Sue suggested we use her French poodles. You’ve seen them, right? They’re gorgeous. Coquette—she’s the white one—is as gentle as a lamb. And Jacques—he’s a black beauty—is wonderful with children. I think they would be lovely. They’re standards. Large. Very stately.”

“Hmm. Well, I have to admit, the black and white combo goes with the rest of your color scheme. Maybe we should put a soft pink bow on Coquette.”

This somehow led to a conversation about wedding colors, which led to some chatter about the table linens, which brought us back around to the dogs.

“So, what do you think, Bella? These will be ring bearers no one will ever forget.”

“That’s putting things lightly. I hope they come with a trainer.”

“Bonnie Sue says we won’t need one. They’re very sweet and obedient. Never knew an enemy, she says.”

“Great. Could you get the dogs to counsel Twila and the rest of the gang before the big day? Maybe they could share their secret.”

I busted into laughter and before long Lily joined in.

Yes, I could almost picture it now. The folks in Splendora would mend fences, Lily would win over her in-laws, Coquette and Jacques would charm the wedding guests, and everyone who attended the big day would live happily ever after.

I hoped.

CHAPTER SIX

Donner sa langue au chat

Translation : to give one’s tongue to the cat

(To give up)

As soon as I hung up the phone from talking to Lily I headed next door to my parents’ place. I didn’t need to talk to Mama or Pop.

Nope, scratch that. I needed one person and one person only.

I found Uncle Laz in the kitchen next to Aunt Rosa, surrounded by a full camera crew from The Food Network. Ack. I’d forgotten they were filming an episode of
The Italian Kitchen
today. Oh well, I’d just wait till they were done.

Or not.

About five minutes after I arrived the director called for a lunch break. Rosa and Laz dished up the foods they’d just prepared and soon everyone was gabbing and eating. I’d never seen so many happy people in one place before. While I had my uncle in pleasant spirits I decided to snag him for a chat.

“Come with me for a minute?” I asked. “To the backyard?”

“Uh oh.” He set down the plate of Eggplant Parmesan. “Someone must be in trouble.”

“Not trouble, really. Just need to talk.”

“You’re sneaky.” He gave me a suspicious look. “You’ve got something up your sleeve.” He pointed to the back of the kitchen. There, behind the flour container, I spied a
Laz for Prez
poster with the words
Join the Food Party
written in red ink. “Speaking of sneaky, do you see what I did? Think anyone’ll notice?”

I couldn’t help myself. I sighed aloud. “Actually, that’s kind of what I want to talk to you about, Uncle Laz.”

“You want to join the Food Party?” He clasped his hands together. “Praise the Lord. We need all the support we can get.”

“No. I want to talk to you about politics.”

“Good.” He slung his arm over my shoulder. “Because I need a campaign manager and I wanted to ask if you had time to help your old uncle out.” He led the way out of the back door and into the garden behind the house.

As Uncle Laz looked over his vegetable garden, I tried to come up with the right words to start the conversation. I finally just spit it out.

“Laz, your political career has come to an end. Finuto. Caput.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because, Uncle Lazarro, someone has to say it: you were not born in the United States. You’re an immigrant. Immigrants can’t run for president. It’s not allowed.”

“Well, yes, but. . .” He shook his head and then reached down to clear some weeds. “Semantics.”

“Nope. And don’t pull that line about how you had dual citizenship or your mother was a citizen of the United States. I know better.”

Laz sighed. “Look, the whole thing was just a joke. You know? I wasn’t really planning to run for president. I was just trying to stir up the people.”

“You got them stirred up all right.” I took a seat on the bench and watched as he reached down to check on the oregano plants. “I know quite a few who aren’t even speaking to each other now.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’re not really blaming that on me, are you?” He continued to move, plant by plant, until he came to the parsley.

“No, but this craziness didn’t help. You got Earline riled up and then a chain reaction occurred.”

“I just thought it’d be fun.” He looked up from the herb garden and gave me a pensive look. “I know you have your favorite candidate, Bella. D.J. told me. And we all know that Earline has her favorite. No question there.” At this point he grew silent. For a moment, anyway. “But the truth is, I never had a favorite. I couldn’t latch on to any of them. So I figured I’d make things more fun by running, myself.”

“Only, not for real.”

“Well, of course not. I never thought anyone would take me seriously.”

“Clearly the reporter at the
Daily News
found some merit in the story. Remember that piece they did on you last month? They treated you like you were some kind of superstar.”

“Hey, a business owner’s gotta do what a business owner’s gotta do. Did you notice my signs were printed on the backs of Parma Johns signs? What do you really think I was trying to sell here?” Laz stretched his back and looked across the expanse of the back yard.

“Wait. Are you telling me this whole thing was a ploy to get people to buy more pizza?” I clucked my tongue at him. “Very low, Lazarro.”

“Not low at all.” For the first time since the conversation began I noticed the seriousness in his expression. “All good businessmen—and women—do it.”

“They all run for president?”

“No, they all think outside of the box. In my case, the pizza box.”

“Outside of the box? I think the right word would be
crafty
.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please.”

“Laz, everyone knows that Parma Johns is already loaded with customers. We don’t need to advertise. You have a television show patterned after you, for Pete’s sake. People across the country come to Parma Johns so that they can meet the crazy characters they see in the show.”

“I’m not as crazy in real life as those situations they put the characters in.” He gave me a knowing look.

“You might be a little crazier.” I put my hands on my hips. “But the point is, Parma Johns doesn’t need to advertise anymore. And the wedding facility is booked, too. And your cooking show is one of the most popular on The Food Network. So, why draw more attention to the businesses when you could be resting and relaxing. Aren’t these your golden years?”

“Golden-schmolden.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I know you people want me to retire. To relax. To take better care of myself.” He knelt down and plucked a weed from one of the plants. “But I’m not ready for all of that. I still have a lot of life to live and I plan to do it to the fullest. And just for the record, you can take the businessman out of the business, but you can’t take the business out of the businessman.”

“I understand, Laz. But deliberately riling people up isn’t the way to live life to the fullest. I’m just saying. One of these days one of your little jokes could backfire, and then what?”

He seemed to be thinking through what I’d said. . .for a moment, anyway. Then, just about the time things started getting serious, the director popped his head around the corner.

“Lunch break is over, Mr. Rossi. We’re about to start taping again. You done out here?”

“Are we done out here?” Laz turned my way.

“We’re done.”

As I watched him saunter back toward the house I couldn’t help but wonder if my words had made any difference. Uncle Laz was. . .Uncle Laz. He probably wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. His wackiness was endearing, no doubt about it. Crazy, but endearing.

Soon the election would be behind us. I had a feeling a lot of people would celebrate that fact. And once the dust settled, life would go back to normal. Well, as normal as it’d ever been for the Rossi family, anyway. Until that day came—and who was I kidding?—I’d just do my best to keep the lid on the pot so the proverbial soup wouldn’t simmer over.