A Mobster's Menu for Mother's Day Brunch Page 2

  “Oh, he does know something,” Charlie said. “You can see it in his eyes.”

  “I don’t see anything in his eyes,” Harry said, squinting. “That’s how he always looks. Kind of like he could crack a walnut between his eyebrows.”

  Uncle Tommy gave Harry a look, and Harry stopped talking.

  “Is this true, Tommy?” Aunt Shirley asked. “Do you know something about Jeremy that you’d like to share with the rest of the family?”

  “Isn’t that putting Uncle Tommy on the spot?” Annalisa asked. “What if he’s sworn to secrecy or something?”

  Aunt Shirley smiled. “This is family, dear. It’s our job to know each other’s business.”

  “Like the time Uncle Tommy found out that Harry and I missed that drop-off at the turnpike last summer?” Charlie asked. “We had a station wagon full of gourmet goat’s milk in the trunk. Harry and I got distracted by the hot air balloon show at the shore, and clean forgot about the delivery. Boy, that trunk smelled pretty bad for a long time.”

  Uncle Tommy turned his attention to Charlie.

  “Um, Charlie,” Harry stammered. “I don’t think we ever did tell Uncle Tommy about that goat’s milk problem. Remember after we gave him the station wagon back, and he asked us about the peculiar odor? We told him a gang of squirrels had taken residence in the trunk.”

  Charlie nodded his head slowly, wheels turning. “Right, right,” he said. “So…we were talking about Jeremy?”

  “I think that’s called deflection,” Annalisa said. “We learned about that in psychology class. It’s a new elective at the high school for advanced students. There’s a lot of deflection going on at this table.”

  “You just keep on learning, dear,” Aunt Shirley said. “Maybe we should just let this thing with Jeremy go. Let’s all just have a nice brunch and enjoy our cocktail wieners and drinks.” She pointed to a large tray of desserts. “And we even have little chocolate éclairs. Aren’t they darling?”

  “Aren’t they French, too?” Charlie asked. “Like the hors d’oeuvres? This is actually an intercontinental brunch, not just a national brunch. It represents the entire world, not just the United States.”

  “I don’t think that moving on is necessarily the family way,” Betty said, thoughtful. “I would be crushed if Jeremy thought I didn’t accept him for who he is. Black sheep or not, he’ll always be my little bambino.”

  Jeremy led Carla back to the table, a hand on her back. “So, how are the desserts?” he asked. “Did our cupcakes show up yet?”

  “Not yet, dear,” Betty said. “I was just saying how we accept you just the way you are. Even though it was hard there for a while, because you walked away from the family business. But we still love you. And welcome to the family, dear,” she said to Carla.

  “Thank you,” Carla said, the color back in her cheeks. She picked at her food. “Honestly, Jeremy’s family has been great. You’ve given me a wonderful welcome.”

  “Well, any time you want to pick the numbers with the girls on Wednesday nights, you are more than welcome to join us,” Mary Charlotte said. “We meet at Jeremy’s mom’s house. She always makes a Bundt cake. It’s her specialty. Betty and I bring the liquor.”

  “Speaking of liquor, would you like a mimosa?” Betty asked Carla.

  “No, thank you, I’m not drinking,” Carla said.

  Jeremy’s lips thinned, his shoulders tensing.

  “Not drinking?” Mary Charlotte asked, her head cocked in attention. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, no,” Carla said. “I don’t have a problem or anything. I’m just not drinking…today.”

  “Just don’t say anything else,” Jeremy advised, putting his heads in his hands.

  “Really,” Carla said. “I’m just taking a break.”

  “You’re pregnant,” Mary Charlotte said, her voice firm.

  “What?” Carla asked, the color draining from her face again. “What?”

  “Oh. My. God,” Jeremy said. “Honey, please don’t say anything else.”

  Everyone had stopped eating and was looking across the table at Carla.

  “Oh, this is good,” Betty said. “I’m glad I got to see this before I kicked off.”

  “Really, I’m just not drinking today,” Carla said, nodding her head.

  “Nobody just stops drinking for the heck of it,” Betty said. “It’s not natural. There’s always some reason.”

  Jeremy leaned over to look at Uncle Tommy.

  “I didn’t say a thing,” Uncle Tommy said.

  “She IS pregnant,” Mary Charlotte said. “I knew it. She’s got that pale, I’m about to lose my cookies kind of glow to her.”

  “Oh my,” Aunt Shirley said, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her napkin. “And on Mother’s Day, too. What a testament to motherhood.”

  “So, how far along are you?” Betty asked. “Craving anything yet? Pickles? Ice cream? Anchovies?”

  “Here, have some olives,” Harry said, passing a giant serving bowl full of green olives down the table. “They’re kind of like pickles.”

  Carla sat still, her eyes wide, clutching the edge of the table. “What just happened?” she croaked. “I didn’t say anything.”

  Jeremy put an arm around her. “You gave them an opening with the drinking thing. They were on that like stink on a monkey.”

  “There’s a monkey here?” Betty asked loudly. “I’m not very fond of monkeys since that incident at the petting zoo.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Charlie said. “There’s a reason they should be wearing kid’s diapers.”

  “Ewwww,” Annalisa said, making a face.

  “Isn’t your family like this?” Jeremy asked Carla. “I thought they were as crazy as us.”

  “I don’t think my family is this crazy,” Carla said.

  Aunt Shirley gasped, and everyone leaned back from the table.

  “Well, okay, they’re as crazy as this,” Carla said. “Only in a different way. That wasn’t an insult at all.”

  Everyone sighed with relief and returned to their miniature food.

  “I just don’t know all the rules yet, I guess,” Carla said.

  “Rules?” Mary Charlotte asked, perking up. “We’ve got rules?”

  “Every family has rules,” Carla answered. “In our family we never talk about family business at the dinner table. Nobody says the rules it out loud, but everybody knows what they are.”

  “I see,” Betty said. “But I really don’t think we have any of those in our family.”

  “Every family has rules,” Annalisa said with conviction. “I learned that in psychology class, too.”

  “What about not eating the fish from Alphonso’s deli?” Charlie asked.

  “Fish! No fish from Alphonso’s!” Aunt Lucinda shouted, roused from her stupor. “Never fish from Alphonso’s.”

  “Is there something wrong with Alphonso’s fish?” Carla asked.

  “Well, there’s a story to that,” Harry said. “It has to do with a poker game, a truck filled with dry ice, and the garbage dumpster in back of the deli.”

  “I think Carla can use her imagination on that one,” Jeremy said. “The bottom line is that we never eat fish from the deli. That’s one of our family rules.”

  “Another one of our rules is that if you’re pregnant, you have to tell the whole family,” Mary Charlotte said.

  “You just made that up,” Charlie said. He turned to Carla. “You don’t have to answer that question. It’s not in the family rule book. If you had eloped to get married, on the other hand, that’s in the rule book. You’d have to tell everybody if you eloped.”

  Carla paled and leaned back in her chair.

  Jeremy’s eyes went blank with shock and surprise.

  “You did not,” Aunt Shirley said, clutching the edge of the table. “You did not elope.”

  “Charlie, you have an uncanny ability to hit the nail on the head,” Harry told him. “It’s really quite a talent.”

  Tears
sprang to Aunt Shirley’s eyes. “You got married? Away from the family? You didn’t have the traditional family pre-wedding breakfast, the traditional passing of the family crest, the traditional service at St. Peter and Paul’s church with Father Delaney?”

  “Maybe she was pregnant first,” Betty suggested. “Maybe they had to get married.”

  “Discretion!” Aunt Shirley exclaimed, her voice rising. “Could we have a little discretion please!”

  An olive came flying over from the kids’ table and landed in Betty’s mimosa glass. Liquid splashed onto the tablecloth, an orange juice stain creeping across the table’s surface.

  “We’re under attack!” Betty shouted, covering her head with her hands. “Take cover!”

  Another olive came flying over, landing in Uncle Tommy’s water glass. Water splashed up into his face, dripping off the tip of his nose.

  Uncle Tommy’s face was impassive, but the entire room went completely silent. Stephen sat at the kids’ table, his mouth hanging wide open in surprise.

  Uncle Tommy calmly shook out his SpongeBob napkin and dried his face.

  “I think everyone should take a deep breath,” Uncle Tommy said quietly. His voice commanded attention, and everyone took a moment to compose themselves.

  Jeremy gave Uncle Tommy a long look, then turned to Carla. She nodded in silent agreement.

  “We have an announcement to make,” Jeremy said.

  “I knew it,” Mary Charlotte said.

  “Just how did you find out?” Jeremy asked. “We haven’t told anyone.”

  “Hmmm…I just have the shine,” Mary Charlotte said. She lowered her voice in reverence. “It’s one of God’s gifts He’s given me.”

  “One of God’s gifts, my patootie,” Jeremy exclaimed. “I’m guessing you got your information from one of your contacts at the hall of records.”

  Aunt Shirley covered a hand over her mouth in shock, and Betty’s mouth hung wide open.

  “Sorry, God,” Jeremy said, looking up at the ceiling. “No disrespect. I just don’t believe for one moment that Mary Charlotte got her information from You.”

  “Is there always so much dysfunction at the grown-up table?” Annalisa asked. “I didn’t think the family dynamics would be so…volatile.”

  “Violin” Betty asked, smiling with anticipation. She looked around the room. “We have a violin this year?”

  “Volatile,” Uncle Tommy said, speaking loudly so Betty could hear. “Volatile is the threat to break out in open violence.”

  “I don’t see any violence here,” Betty said. “Except for that olive attack.”

  “I’m trying to make an important announcement here!” Jeremy said.

  “You mean the one about Carla being pregnant and you had to run off to get married?” Mary Charlotte asked.

  “Well, yes,” Jeremy stammered. “I mean no. Well…yes. Damn. This isn’t going like I planned.”

  “Somebody said a swear word!” a kid shouted from the corner of the room. “I’m going to tell my mom!”

  Carla took Jeremy’s hand, and they stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

  “Awwww,” Annalisa said. “They love each other.”

  “I guess I can get over the eloping part,” Aunt Shirley said. “It may take some time, but as long as you two are happy.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Betty said to Jeremy. “Does your mother know about this news?”

  “Well—” Jeremy hesitated.

  “Hot dog!” Betty exclaimed. “I bet you wanted to tell her in person, am I right?”

  Jeremy nodded his head slowly. “We did.”

  “Then we’re going to the airport with you,” Betty stated. “She gets in next Wednesday, right?”

  “Wait, no—” Jeremy said.

  “Airport?” Carla asked.

  “Sure, we can all go. We can tell Jeremy’s mother that we pried the information out of Jeremy and Carla today. We didn’t want Jeremy’s mom’s feelings hurt because they didn’t tell her first. So we’ll soften the blow by all showing up together at the airport when she gets home from St. Barts. Boy, this will be something.”

  “I’ll bring the balloons!” Charlie said. “I’ve got a box of those left.”

  “I’ll bring the camera to memorialize the event,” Betty said. “I’ve got one of those fancy digital cameras because I sell stuff on eBay. We can post the pictures on our social media sites.”

  Carla gave Betty a surprised look.

  “I know, I know,” Betty said. “I tell everybody I don’t like all these new-fangled gadgets, but sometimes a fib a little bit. eBay rocks when it comes to selling surplus merchandise.”

  “Can I talk now?” Jeremy asked. “Can I just get a word in here somewhere?”

  “Of course dear,” Aunt Shirley said. “Go ahead.”

  Jeremy turned to Carla, taking both her hands in his. “I love you so much, Carla. I promise to stand by you in thick and thin. Especially whenever we’re dealing with our families. As far as I’m concerned, you can ice my cupcakes forever and ever.”

  He reached over to place a hand on her stomach. “And I also promise to stand by this little person, whoever he or she turns out to be.” Jeremy leaned over and kissed Carla passionately.

  “Whooo, whooo!” Stephen yelled from the kids’ table. All the women, including Annalisa, dabbed their eyes with the napkins.

  “That was one of the most romantic Mother’s Day announcements I’ve ever heard,” Betty said.

  “I think a toast is in order,” Uncle Frank said.

  “Hey, where are the waiters?” Betty asked. “I’d like another mimosa.”

  “I think they ran off when Uncle Tommy made that violent reference,” Harry said. “They looked paler than Carla here, and then they ran into the kitchen.”

  Charlie got up and stuck his head in the kitchen door. “Nope, no waiters,” he said. “Becky? Tony?” he yelled. “The only one in here is the cook, and he doesn’t speak any English.”

  Charlie disappeared into the kitchen, and Harry followed.

  “What’s this about a family crest?” Carla asked. “Aunt Shirley said you have a family tradition with a family crest.”

  “Oh, you’ll find out about that during your wedding reception,” Aunt Shirley said. “Since you eloped, we’ll just have to cram all the family traditions into one giant wedding celebration.”

  “Reception?” Jeremy asked. “Wedding celebration? What?”

  “You didn’t think you were getting away without all the traditions just because you eloped, did you?” Aunt Shirley asked.

  “Well…” Jeremy said.

  “When did you get married?” Annalisa asked.

  “St. Patrick’s Day,” Carla said. “Carla and I had a bit of a fight that day, but we reconciled.”

  “I heard about the drinking going on at O’Malley’s pub,” Betty said. “I bet that’s when you got knocked up, too.”

  “Discretion!” Aunt Shirley shouted. “How many times do I have to say it?”

  “You can say it as many times as you want,” Betty said. “Am I right? Is it a St. Patrick’s Day baby?”

  Jeremy and Carla shared a warm smile.

  “It is,” Mary Charlotte exclaimed. “I’ve got the shine, you know.”

  Harry and Charlie came out of the kitchen, swinging the door wide. They both wore chef’s aprons, and had tea towels on their shoulders. Harry carried a giant tray full of cupcakes, and Charlie brought in a pitcher of mimosas in one hand and a pitcher of kiddie cocktails in the other.

  “We couldn’t find Becky or Tony the waiters,” Charlie said. “So we’re going to step in for them. We’d look more like servers with name tags, but this is the best we could do.”

  Charlie poured mimosas for the adults and kiddie cocktails for the kids and Carla. Harry doled out the cupcakes.

  “Your icing is perfection,” Aunt Shirley said to Carla, admiring her cupcake. It was frosted with buttermilk icing, decorated with delica
te pastel flowers. “You’re as good as Martha Stewart.”

  “Martha Stewart is here?” Betty said, craning her head. “I love Martha Stewart. She’s like the MacGyver of cooking and crafting.”

  “To Jeremy and his family,” Uncle Tommy said, lifting his glass. Everyone raised their glasses and drank.

  “When is the ham coming?” Uncle Frank said, poking at the crumbled remains of his mini quiche.

  “This is it,” Betty said loudly. “Remember, we’re having a mini intercontinental brunch? Have an éclair!” She turned to Mary Charlotte. “Boy, dealing with old people is a pain. You have to talk so loud and they’re forgetting stuff all the time.”

  “Well, the big table is certainly different than the kids’ table,” Annalisa said. “Although I find them equally chaotic, the conversation at the adult table is definitely more interesting.”

  “At least you don’t have to deal with olives being stuck up your nose,” Charlie said.

  Carla had a smile on her face. She turned to Jeremy.

  “What?” Jeremy asked.

  “Just wait until we tell my family,” Carla responded.

  “Oh boy,” Jeremy said.

  “Just wait until our families meet,” Aunt Shirley said. Everyone stared at their cupcakes, soaking in that information.

  “Oh boy,” Jeremy repeated.