Lucy nearly choked on a sliver of guilt. Setting the phone on the marble countertop, she said, “He didn’t have a lovesick look.”
“Please, he looked so pathetic, I thought Zia Ella was going to adopt him and put a collar on him. Which she still might, you know? She and your mom have gone nuts this week. With those two behind the wheel, it’s going to be the biggest wedding ever planned in less than six weeks.”
“Yes, and I’ve been here living every high-strung moment of it.” Not for much longer, though. She’d find some reprieve from the chaos at Joel’s apartment, at least.
“So I hear your engagement party is going to be at Bowie’s?”
“What?”
“Yeah, Ivy and Hope arranged it with the Zias.”
Too much information was coming at her at once. “How do you know Ivy?”
Natalie raised her eyebrow. “Have you seen that girl’s bangs? Perfection like that only comes when you book with me every four weeks.”
Her face must have been giving away her shock because Natalie laughed. “It’s all in the family, cuz! Portland is an incestuous little place. Everyone knows everyone. Sometimes I swear I’m living in small town America. But hey, look, this is a good thing, right? Everyone is happy for you.”
“Natalie! You’re making a mess,” Maria scolded as she came into the kitchen. “There are enough crumbs on the table to make another biscotti.” She walked straight over to Lucy and kissed her cheek. “Where have you been,patatina? I haven’t seen you all morning?” She shoved a package of napkins under Lucy’s nose before she could answer. “These are pretty, right? They’ll look so nice on a white tablecloth.”
Lucy stared at the package of napkins. They were floral, which wouldn’t have been bad, but the roses on the napkin were an orangey red, and not the sunset-colored kind of orange red, but more of a rusted metal kind. The green stems were a vomit green. “Um.”
“They’re hideous, Zia. I told you already.”
“Quiet,” Maria grumbled at Natalie in Italian. “You are so negative all the time. Be happy for your cousin.”
Natalie threw her hands in the air. “I am happy for her! I’m trying to save her from barf-colored napkins on one of the most important days of her life.”
“What time are you leaving to move in with your fiancé?” Zia Ella asked, coming into the kitchen carrying a stack of fabric.
“Say what?” Natalie’s head swiveled toward Lucy. “You’re moving in with Forbes?”
“Who’s Forbes?” Maria asked.
“Nobody,” Lucy said to her mother before turning to her cousin. “It’s only until I go home to San Francisco.”
“You don’t think it’s too soon to live together?” Her mother asked, as if she hadn’t been the one championing for a rushed wedding since she’d found out about the engagement.
“Mom, it’s just while I’m in Portland. I’m heading back to San Francisco as soon as the engagement party is over,” Lucy reminded her mother. And herself.
“Maybe you should stay here. It might look better. You know, appearances—” Maria said.
“Zia, look on the bright side, you can use the spare room Lu has been sleeping in as the sewing room now, to—” Natalie fluttered her hand to the fabric on the counter. “To make handmade napkins. We can let people take them home as party favors.” She turned back to Lucy. “I think it’s perfect. You can get out of this zoo and don’t have to hold back while he’s drilling you.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.
Lucy gasped, horrified, checking to make sure no one over the age of thirty had heard her raunchy cousin. To her relief, Maria and Ella were fussing over fabric swatches, deep in their own conversation.
“Nobody is going to bedrillinganybody,” Lucy hissed to her cousin, who responded with a snorting laugh.
“Why? Because you’re not officially married yet?” Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Lu, we’re all cafeteria Catholics around here, you know that. Take what you want, leave what you don’t want.” Her hands flapped as she spoke. “You can screw the billionaire against the wall tonight, but you’ll still be married in the Cathedral in your virgin white.” She shrugged extravagantly. “It is what it is. Embrace it.”
It was official. Her family was insufferable.
As if to prove the point, her mother glanced up at her from a rose-colored swatch. “Oh, andpatatina, you should change. You look like you can’t afford real clothes.”
Lucy glanced down at her high-rise jeans and off the shoulder Tragically Hip t-shirt.
“He’s invited you to stay in his home. He didn’t have to. The least you can do is look nice. And don’t forget to bring him the gnocchi that I made yesterday. He likes my gnocchi. There is Tupperware in the refrigerator. Take the big one.” Gathering the fabric and vomit-colored, store-bought napkins, her mother and aunt made their way into the living room. “We’ll make napkins out of the rose-colored fabric, so find a dress to match.”
Lucy stared after the matriarchs, then at her cousin, who wore a crumb-dusted smirk and said, “You’re welcome.”
