Mint to Be Loved

by Elias Raven

  Patty waved to us that the table was ready and we headed into the main ballroom, where we found an immaculately set table that was ready to go. Bottles of red and white wine were strategically placed along with Champagne in the middle, and fresh Italian bread straight from the oven with olive oil and balsamic dressing were all waiting for us. My dad turned to Patty, who just waved him off.

  “What can we say, we love you guys!” she said laughing and headed out beating a hasty retreat.

  My dad turned to my mom, but before he could say a word the Maître d Vincent beat him to the punch.

  “Look at you ladies! My brother said we were celebrating your graduation and new jobs tonight. Don’t worry, before your dad protests, Frankie said he’s going to make him sing for his supper!”

  He said laughing. My dad just shook his head and shook Vincent’s hand and we all sat as the lights dimmed and “Billy - The Piano Man” (Yes, another impersonator) came out and took a seat at the baby grand and started playing Scenes From An Italian Restaurant. It was too perfect.

  The other waiters swarmed the table opening bottles of wine and making sure that we wanted for nothing. Trays of Veal Parmesan and Spaghetti Bolognese and homemade meatballs and sausage with fresh bell peppers and onions came out with Lasagna and an endless parade of deliciousness. It was a full-on olfactory orgasm of food. Afterward, Frankie came over and personally popped the bottle of Champagne and poured a glass for each of us.

  “A toast to these lovely ladies here, I cannot tell you how proud I am to be a part of your family and all that hard work has paid off! Here is to your future and hopes you marry a nice Italian man!” he said laughing.

  “Salute!” we all yelled, as we tilted back the glasses.

  Between the wine and champagne, I know none of us were feeling any pain and then we heard a drum roll and a spotlight hit the stage. The curtain pulled up and a small orchestra was already seated with instruments in hand that began playing That’s Amore’. My dad knew that was his cue and headed up the center aisle to loud clapping from the dinner goers and hopped up onto the stage, grabbing a glass of whiskey that had been strategically placed on a small dressing table near the back he turned to face the audience and took a drink while the band paused waiting for their cue.

  “Thank you for coming to Frankie’s tonight! We are going to get this joint hopping with some songs you all love and remember! He said, and then he slid off his black tie and opened the top button of his shirt.

  “Now sit back and enjoy while we take a trip down memory lane.” he continued smoothly.

  I had to admit he had it down pat, that suave look, the drink in hand. The only thing missing was a cigarette, but you couldn’t smoke in the bars or restaurants in public anymore. The audience didn’t notice or care as the girls started catcalling as he slashed his arm straight out for the band to start. The lights dimmed and he stepped up then slowly leaned into the old style RCA microphone and started crooning sogni d’oro to all the ladies in the restaurant.

  My mom’s hands gripped my arm as she watched her guy do his act. Then she whispered in my ear.

  “Frankie wasn’t kidding, in the old days; I used to get insanely jealous when your father performed. These hussies would practically throw themselves at him! I was insane with jealousy until Frankie rightly pointed out that it’s just an act and besides how much trouble is a librarian really going to get into?” he had told me laughing.

  “After that, I started to calm down a bit about it. He does it so well. If you close your eyes you would swear that was Dino up on the stage.” she continued.

  Kathy and Sarah talked animatedly between themselves watching the ladies go nuts over my dad. They thought it was hysterical. I get up from the table and tell the girls I have to use the bathroom, which becomes a foursome of all of us using the ladies’ room at once. I have to admit, I was pretty buzzed from all the wine and champagne. I might even admit I kicked my shoes under the table because walking in heels was absolutely not happening with as good as I was feeling. We all walked through the double leather doors and found the ornate ladies’ lounge replete with lounge chairs and bathrooms in the back. We were all talking a mile a minute about everything under the moon and sun. My mom was laughing along with us. It was really good to see her so relaxed and happy. We could hear my dad crooning away in the main ballroom still and after using the facilities and fixing makeup half-assedly, since by now we realized we might be calling a couple of cabs home, we all piled willy-nilly out of the lounge area and back toward the show.

  At that moment Vincent came out of the doors with a tray of champagne glasses topped off nicely, which he promptly offered to the drunken quartet that we were. We all gave a loud cheer for Vincent and each grabbed one. Or was that two glasses each, and as I was turning back toward the party train that was Mom, Kathy, Sarah and myself, I managed to dump both of mine into the chest and front side of a rather handsome professor looking gentleman that was coming out of the ballroom at the same time.

  I was mortified. The party train came to a screeching halt as pink champagne stained his white shirt and tan jacket. He stood there with his mouth open because I’m sure the feeling of chilled champagne running down your pants and into your shorts and chilling your nuts was just a wonderful feeling for a guy!

  “I am so…” I tried to blurt out as I crashed landed on Earth while my dad still crooned in the background.

  Vincent came running over with cloth napkins and whatever head Maître’d have on them to calm upset patrons and clean stained clothes.

  “I’ll pay to have the clothes dry cleaned or…” I continued in a monotone voice...

  The man just looked at us, and then looked at his clothes and before he could say anything else as if on cue he recognized my mother.

  “Aren’t you the head librarian at...?” he asked.

  My mom just put her hand to her face as she recognized the gentleman and then shook her head and laughed covering her mouth. We all stood there awkwardly with the bemused gentleman as we looked at my mom like she had flown out of a Jack Nicholson movie, waiting patiently for her to introduce us all.

  After a moment my mom regained her composure and then looked at us drunken girls and putting her best foot forward introduced us to Mr. Pink Champagne On Ice.

  “Ladies, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Professor Nicolas Bennett,” she replied.

  It was like the Hindenburg had just burst overhead. It was obviously one of mom’s co-workers or one of the research professors that we were going to meet when we reported for work. We just stood there dumbfounded and then the professor burst out laughing with my mom.

  “I can think of better ways to meet then this, but I do have to say that this is going to be one of the more memorable introductions I have ever had!” he replied.

  At that, the ice had been broken and we all laughed as we heard loud clapping and a moment later my dad came through the leather doors and found us all trying to drunkenly help clean Nicolas up.

  “Nicolas!” My dad said reaching out to shake his hand and then saw the sorry state of his clothing.

  “What happened…” was as far as he got before he pointed at me and I pointed at me and started to stutter a slurred explanation that was pretty much not understandable which made it that much funnier.

  “I got this!” he replied.

  “She plowed into me thinking I was the water feature in the main ballroom,” he said jokingly.

  We all howled with laughter, but he took it in good stride.

  “Can I do anything…” my dad continued. Juju

  Nicolas waved it away.

  “It was an accident and your family seems very charming, even in their currently inebriated state.” he continued.

  We all got a chuckle and my dad waved Vincent over to settle up, but Vincent wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I already called the cabs and I have your car locked up for the night,” he replied laughing.

  My dad grabbe
d all the girls and shook his head.

  “Say goodnight to the nice professor…” he intoned.

  “Goodnight Professor” we gushed back at him.

  Nicolas laughed and just shook his head still trying to get the pink champagne out.

  My dad yelled as we went outside to meet the cab.

  “Send me the bill, I’ll take care of it!” he said.

  My last view of the handsome professor was him waving as the door closed behind us.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning is always a memorable one. Consuming mass quantities of pasta and alcohol has always been my downfall! More than once Sarah and Kathy have shared their Coyote Ugly stories with me about sneaking a couple of hot hunks into the dorm after a raucous night of drinking, only to wake up and realize they’ve smuggled in a pair of guys that looked like Norm from Cheers instead. That’s not to say, I haven’t gone out with them for a night on the town, but I was always a little shyer and reserved than they were, preferring not to have to explain to my mom and dad why I had teeth marks on my arm where I had tried to chew my arm off rather than wake the occupant of the bed beside me. Sadly, last night my claim to hunkdom was making a wonderful first impression with one of my mother’s professors, a certain, Mr. Pink Champagne on Ice. Since the level of hangover I was experiencing was somewhere around a 10 on the Richter scale, I was having trouble remembering the pink gentleman’s real name.

  I sat with my parents at the dining room table with one of those nice old fashioned ice bags (the ones that are blue or pink or better yet mustard yellow or avocado green with big flowers all over them) on the side of my head. My mom was having one of her best Betty Crocker moments in the kitchen whipping up pancakes and other assorted Americana while my dad was good-naturedly having fun with his hung over love child by being a little gruffer and louder than usual dropping the Sunday newspaper on the floor behind me with a loud smacking sound that caused me to almost fly into the ceiling, then upon me looking at him rather peevishly, he then lovingly set a glass of water along with two Tylenol in front of me.

  Picking up his paper from the floor, he sat down right across from my miserable self and smiled happily.

  “Good Morning Hunny!” he beamed.

  I mumbled something about it being way too early for that amount of alacrity, but that just made him grin that much more and Grinch-like to boot!

  “Why my little tot! If I had known that you would be feeling so distraught this morning, perhaps I would have just done pizza and movies like you had wanted last night,” he replied sounding just like James Earl Jones.

  I removed the ice pack and gave him my best Cindy Lou Who impression, batting my eyes and trying to look innocent with that right on the verge of cuteness and tears look that wraps him around my finger every time. My dad seeing the look, proceeded to roll his eyes, then got up from his morning spot and sauntered into the kitchen where I heard good-natured ribbing from my mother at how he dotes on me and then he came back with a steaming cup of coffee in my favorite mug (you know the one we all have that say’s something smart like “It’s too early to do life at this moment, but coffee does make it bearable.”) and then set it down lovingly in front of me mumbling about my cuteness.

  I batted my eyes lashes and smiled at my dad, then downed the water and Tylenol, and reached for the steaming goodness that was in front of me. My dad knew exactly how I liked it down to the last granule of sugar.

  Taking a sip I looked at him and said in a small cute voice.

  “Thank you Mr. Santa Claus.”

  Of course, he continued to tug at the line of my irritation.

  “Was that to your satisfaction my dear? If not, I can always send it up the chimney and take it to my workshop to make it just so.” he continued and then hit me with a smile.

  On cue, my mother came through the swinging door. She had platters of homemade pancakes and ham, bacon and sausage and eggs with green chili sauce for heat and color. The only thing missing was the roast beast. At that, I snorted and my mom caught it.

  “What’s so funny dear?” she asked soothingly.

  “I was thinking about the old Dr. Seuss cartoon “How The Grinch Stole Christmas” and how dad likes to impersonate the Grinch,” I replied. My dad just moved his eyebrows and smiled again.

  “Like that mom!” I exclaimed.

  My mom just rolled her eyes and looked at my dad.

  “Must you torture our hungover daughter today?” she asked, giving him the shit’s about to get real eyes.

  My dad just chuckled, enjoying the hilarity of the moment. Then my mom shook her head and continued.

  “Dear, your father has been doing that impersonation since you were little. What was so funny this time?” she asked.

  “Oh, I was thinking how wonderful breakfast looked and the only thing missing was the “Roast Beast,” I replied realizing in hindsight that it sounded kinda lame, but I didn’t care.

  She looked dumbfounded for a moment then I pointed at the ham and eggs with green sauce and at that she started laughing. Right on cue, the front doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” I yelled and grabbed my ice pack from the table; I headed to the front door. It never dawned on me how I would look answering the door with an ice pack in my hand, but yeah know in the heat of the moment you forget stuff like that.

  Upon opening the door, there in the bright morning sunlight with the birds chirping REALLY LOUD stood my two best friends and they were just as hungover as I was. (Sarah & Kathy) BTW, they were also holding ice packs in their hands.

  “O.M.G, we must have been like Kismet or something with the ice packs!” I said laughing.

  “Naw.” replied Sarah.

  “Your mom told us to bring them.” Kathy chimed in.

  I threw my arms around them both. We rolled into the dining room looking and feeling our best. My dad just chuckled, and my mom shook her head looking all the world like June Cleaver. I couldn’t stand it and had to know why.

  “Ok, mom you drank as much if not more than all of us last night, right?” I asked.

  “Why aren’t you hurting as bad?” Kathy said, looking pitiful with her ice pack against her forehead.

  My mom smiled and wagged a finger at us girls to follow her into the kitchen. When we entered my mom reached into the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Fino Sherry.

  “Works wonders for a hangover!” she replied, and then pulling down dainty drinking glasses, she poured us all a shot and told us to drink it down.

  We smiled at her conspiratorially and after consuming the sherry headed back into the dining room. I had to hand it to her; the wine took the edge off of the pain in my head right away.

  By the time we sat back down again to eat breakfast, I was definitely feeling better.

  We tore into breakfast with gusto. My dad went to the bar and returned a few moments later with a round of mimosa to go with breakfast. The conversation was light until my father got a text message from Tony at the restaurant. My father looked at the message and then did his best Godfather impersonation.

  “You going to come by and grab the limousine or do you want me to send one of the boys around to bring it over,” he said.

  Sarah burst out laughing and we all joined in the fun. My father’s love of impressions was well known by my friends and in our pitiful state they were that much more fun, especially as the alcohol kicked in again.

  “Hey Tony, this is Vito, I’ll send Don Carbonara over to get the wheels in a few minutes.” he texted back.

  We were all howling; I knew Uncle Tony and Frank were rolling with laughter on the other end of the phone. Everyone has an Italian Uncle right?

  We finished breakfast and helped my mom clean up. I gave my parents both a big hug feeling kind of melancholy.

  “I love you both. Promise me that as we grow up, that we always find time to be silly and find time to laugh!?” I asked.

  My mom got a teary-eyed look in her eyes, then I looked over at my dad an
d I could tell I had just melted the Don Corniolli facade. My best friends threw themselves into the hug joining us.

  “Honey, life is never easy. There will be times that you can be silly and laugh and there will be other times that life will test your heart and soul. It always comes down to how you look at life, I can promise you that it’s a worthwhile journey and there will be as much adventure as you can possibly handle, the choice will always be yours.” she replied.

  My mom was always the sage of the family. My dad just smiled and we broke up the hug and Kathy and Sarah fist-bumped my parents.

  “Word!” they both said.

  “What are you ladies up too for today?” my father asked.

  I looked at the girls and shrugged spinning to face my dad.

  “Downtown? Let's go do some shopping!” I replied.

  “Don’t forget you three have to be at The Morgan tomorrow to meet with the director.” he said.

  We all smiled at my dad and right on cue gave him a Grinch look right back. We made the mistake of looking at each other and burst out laughing. My dad waited patiently and we finally stopped giggling and continued.

  “Actually, we are going to corral mom and go pick up some nice clothes for tomorrow's intake appointment.” I said smartly.

  My dad already knew what that meant and reaching into his wallet he handed me his credit card.

  “Tell your mom to take it easy, I just paid this sucker down.” he continued.

  Love you!” we all said together and ran into the kitchen. Before a hot minute had passed, we had my laughing mom in tow and headed to the driveway to grab the girl’s car for the ride into town.

  Chapter 7

  As soon as we jumped in the car and backed into the street, it was on! My mom looked at Sarah and told her to bump some tunes. I did a double-take and looked at my mom like she was Linda Blair from The Exorcist. My girl Sarah didn’t back down an inch and locked and loaded her 80’s N-Track (the N was for nasty) and kicked up some Bobby Brown - My Prerogative. Kathy flipped the top down on the Volkswagen and we flew up Vanderbilt and cruised across The Brooklyn Bridge singing our hearts out. Sarah turned down Broadway and started looking for parking. She was radar locked onto going to one of our favorite clothing stores Mystique Apparel. I was locked onto the Chocolatier right next door and was having a squirrel moment.