Thankfully, Mom doesn’t allow mob or police talk at dinner so I keep it short. “Yup. He introduced himself. Nice guy. Unfortunately, he got himself arrested before we could engage in any meaningful conversations.”
My father, having caught his wife’s evil eye, jumps in to squash his least favorite brother-in-law’s attempt to ruin dinner.
“Tony sends his regards and hopes to see you soon.” Dad’s tone says end of discussion but Vinny chuckles, needing to have the last word.
“I bet he does.”
Rose mouths to me from across the table. “Tell me later.”
I nod. We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow, at the salon.
My mother starts a new conversation thread, one I’ve been dreading but she knows I can’t say no, not after the whole Lazarus act. “Sal called me to cancel your reception but I couldn’t do it.”
“That’s great, Mom.” I was kind of hoping the big fat Italian wedding was off the table but no such luck.
Rose, my maid of honor, nods with an evil grin. “No worries. We have it covered.”
“I can’t wait.” I say this with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.
“Smile, sugar.” Beside me Suds chuckles under his breath.
Through clenched teeth, I grimace with my lips lifted at the corners. “Don’t think you’re getting off scot free. You’ve got tuxes, tastings, and are in charge of finding a decent photographer.”
“Piece of cake. No pun intended.” He winks.
Later, stuffed with too many of Mrs. Murphy’s cookies, I help the women in the kitchen while the men watch the game.
“They really should be in here, too.” Mia glares into the living room as the guys whoop about someone dropping the ball.
Aunt Marion laughs. “God forbid. Dishes are the only way we can talk without them listening in.”
She grabs my arm. “Tell me you’re coming in to work tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I roll my eyes at my two cousins but my employer misses the sarcasm.
“Excellent.” She opens her cell phone, starts texting madly, and dread overcomes me.
“What are you doing?”
“Letting everyone know. Make sure you dress nicely and if you can, bring some pictures… the bloodier the better.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” On that high point, I wake my snoozing husband and we walk back home.
“Well, today was nowhere as bad as I thought it would be.” Yawning, he places his heavy arm over my shoulders.
“Except for the wedding. I was sure dying would be reason enough to cancel the reception.”
“Better luck next time.”
