Here Comes the Body

by Maria DiRico

  “Maybe it’s because all you ever talk about is your stupid sister,” John shot back. “I don’t care if you want our cake flavors to be better than hers. We’re having vanilla. I’m putting my foot down on this issue.” John stamped his foot and grimaced. He put a hand on the back of his head where he, like Mia, had taken a blow from Ty’s turntable. “That went straight up my leg to my head.”

  Alice began to sniffle. “All I want,” she said as tears slipped down her cheeks, “is for my wedding to be better than perfect. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

  “Aha!” John pointed a finger at Alice. “You did it again. You said, ‘my wedding.’ You always do that. I want this for my wedding, I want that for my wedding. It’s my wedding too, Alice.”

  “It’s both of your weddings, and if I’ve ever seen a couple who should call one off, it’s you two!” Mia slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The couple gasped in unison. They were finally united on something—anger at her. “I’m super sorry, I never should have said that. Nobody wants you to get married more than me because if we lose one more booking, I think this place’ll go under. But I’ve yet to see a moment of joy from either of you about this wedding or even about each other. Instead of arguing about cake flavors, you might want to take a good, hard look at your relationship before you make a lifetime commitment to each other. Trust me, I know what it’s like to realize after a big wedding that you made a terrible mistake. It’s painful. It’s humiliating. And it makes you scared of ever getting into another relationship, even one with someone who is probably the person you should have been with all along.”

  Mia could only watch as Alice and John faced the truth about their coupledom, mentally kicking herself for her big mouth. After a minute, Alice said in a quiet voice, “What do we do? We can’t cancel the wedding. Our families will kill us. And all of our friends will laugh at us.”

  “We’ll look like idiots,” John agreed.

  There was silence as the three pondered the next step. Then Mia had a flash of brilliance. “Have an un-wedding.”

  John and Alice looked perplexed. “A what?” she said.

  Mia, inspired, typed on her keyboard. “There,” she said, referencing an article she pulled up on the computer. “I remember reading this story about a couple in Manhattan. The guy dumped the girl a week before her wedding. Instead of canceling, she turned it into an ‘un-wedding.’ A big party where everyone showed their love and support for her. She returned as many gifts as she could and anything people couldn’t or wouldn’t take back was donated to charity.”

  Mia had said the magic word: Manhattan. She saw the couple mulling over the idea . . . and liking it.

  “Alice,” John said. “I’m pretty sure I love you. But I don’t think I’m ready to get married.”

  Mia held her breath, praying that Alice’s reaction to this news didn’t take the conversation in an ugly direction. “To be honest,” the vet technician said, “Tinker the Drinker told me you knew that girl who got killed. When I thought you might have offed her and get sent to jail for murder, I was a little relieved. I mean, I was upset and all, but—”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” John assured her. “I felt the same way.”

  “Now,” Alice said to Mia, “you’re sure this un-wedding is a thing?”

  “A big thing,” Mia said. “But no one’s done one in Queens yet. You’d be trendsetters.”

  For the first time since Mia met her, Alice beamed. “Then I’m in.”

  “Me, too.” John took Alice’s hands in his. “Alice, will you un-marry me?”

  “Yes, John.” Alice was teary-eyed. “I’d be honored to be your un-wife.”

  The couple embraced and Mia, overwhelmed with relief at saving the event, threw her arms around them, too.

  * * *

  John and Alice’s un-wedding was a hit, averting the disastrous direction in which their actual wedding was headed. At first, guests gossiped and grumbled about the change. But their attitude changed once they learned their gifts would either be returned or treated as donations to the non-profit arm of the vet clinic where Alice worked.

  Two vintage wooden speedboats delivered the couple, their un-bridal party, and their families. Barbara Grazio’s bright blue roses inspired envy in several groom’s-mother-zillas at the event, and Mia happily handed out Lin’s business cards. The tables in the Marina Ballroom were arranged in the giant X that Mia originally came up with for Cimmanin’s party. The Koller birthday venue proved too small for the setup, but the Belle View rooms were perfect for it. Mia discovered that the manor’s part-timer Cody, the ex-Marine, had a secret talent as a DJ. Clad in a faux military uniform, he yelled to the guests, “Ten-hut! This is your commanding officer, Sergeant Sound, and you are under strict orders to par-tay!” He played a current dance hit and the guests filled all four dance areas created by the X table layout.

  John and Alice had invited the pet bereavement group and the new pets they’d adopted through Alice’s clinic, who proved to be the most popular guests at the event. “We’re a perfect match, aren’t we, Sigmund?” Vivien cooed to the large calico cat in her arms, who let out a contented meow in response. “Thank you, Mia.”

  “All I did was send a few e-mails.” Mia bent down to scratch the head of Willie Two, the energetic chihuahua mix Gerald had fallen in love with. “It looks like I’ll be the only one left in the pet bereavement group.”

  “As long as there are people who adore animals,” Vivien said with a warm smile, “the group will go on. And those of us who’ve found new fur children will be there to support them.”

  “Fur children, what a crock,” a woman walking by muttered loud enough for Mia to hear. The woman was Alice’s twin, the infamous Annamaria. Grumpy and bloated from her pregnancy, all she could do was watch glumly while everyone else drank and danced. Mia derived satisfaction from this, since she’d picked up a vibe that Annamaria was used to being the center of attention, and not happy to be upstaged by her “older” sister, no less a bunch of cuddly creatures. Since Mia’s natural inclination was to root for the underdog, she was Team Alice all the way.

  John Grazio ended the evening with a touching toast to his girlfriend, who looked stunning in her ivory silk princess-style un-bridal gown. As they shared a kiss with the quiet bay and blinking lights of the air traffic control tower behind them, Mia had a feeling that one day Belle View might play host to their real wedding.

  Mia stayed at Belle View after all the guests had departed, under the pretext of helping her staff break down the event. Eventually, only three people were left: Mia, Guadalupe, and Evans. “Well, you pulled that one out of your keester,” Guadalupe said with a yawn as they finished cleaning the kitchen. “I’m calling it a night.”

  “Me, too,” Mia said. She faced Evans. “What about you?”

  Evans shuffled some pots. “I have a few things left to do. You all take off. I’ll lock up before I leave.”

  “Sounds good,” Guadalupe said. She grabbed her jacket and started for the door.

  “Except that Evans isn’t going to leave,” Mia said. “He’s going to spend the night here. Like he’s been doing pretty much every night lately. Right, Evans?”

  Guadalupe stopped and turned back. “He’s been crashing at Belle View? Why?”

  “That’s what my dad and I would like to know.” Evans opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, but no words came out. “We’re not leaving until you tell us what’s going on. Are you homeless? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Evans. We can help you.”

  “Oh man, no. That’s not it at all.” Evans strode over to the kitchen’s computer and turned it on. The computer booted up and he typed an address into the browser’s search bar. He motioned for Mia and Guadalupe to come over. They peered over his shoulder. Evans had called up a website for a company called Diverse Media. The home page boasted assets that ranged from national magazines to a cable TV network. “What is this?” Mia asked.

  “My f
amily’s business.” Evans clicked to a page for founder and CEO, a distinguished-looking African-American businessman named Franklin Tucker. “That’s my dad. He wanted all of us kids to work for the company, but I’m not interested. I like making food. Especially desserts. I was tired of him bugging me, so I moved out of the town house—”

  “Town house,” Mia repeated, in shock.

  “Yeah, I was way too old to be living there anyway. But I haven’t found a place I can afford yet, so I’ve been crashing here. I should’ve asked. But then I’d have to tell you who I was. And I liked being known just for me for a change. Not as the rich kid from a famous family.”

  Mia and Guadalupe digested this unexpected development. “What I’m hearing,” Guadalupe said, “is that there’s a town house in Manhattan with an empty bedroom.”

  “Ignore her,” Mia said. “Evans, I think I have the answer to your problem. I know an apartment that’s available. How do you feel about little old Greek ladies?”

  “That depends,” he responded, a little wary. “Do I have to marry one? I’m not saying I won’t to get a decent rent in this town, but—”

  Mia laughed. “No, you won’t have to marry her. But she’s lonely and may occasionally show up on your doorstep with a dinner invitation. That’s a good thing; she’s a wonderful cook. Her baklava is to die for.”

  Evans’s face creased with a smile. She’d never seen the sous chef look so happy. “I could use some Greek dessert recipes. I wonder if she has one for a farina cake.”

  “She does. I’ve had it. And loved it.”

  Having solved another mystery, Mia gave Evans Andrea Skarpello’s phone number, plus permission to spend one last night at Belle View. In exchange, he gave her a ride home on his motorcycle. “See you tomorrow, boss,” he said after dropping her off, “and future neighbor.”

  * * *

  The next few weeks were refreshingly uneventful. Mia visited Posi several times. He was still disappointed that his “another hot convict” hadn’t gone viral but buoyed by the number of requests for dates he’d received. “Do you know someone named Cimmanin?” he asked his sister about one request. “She’s single and says she’s a friend of yours.”

  Mia felt sorry for Kevin Koller until she received delivery of a giant floral arrangement. At first, she assumed it was from Lin or Ravello. Then she read the attached card: “Dear Mia, thanks for making my brother look bad. Brad got demoted by our board and I got promoted. I owe you. P.S. I broke up with Cimmanin. Can I get the number of that waitress Elena from your party staff?”

  One morning, Mia was shaken awake by Elisabetta. “Hurry and get ready,” her grandmother said. “Philip and Finn invited us over for the unveiling of their cleaned-up Virgin Mary, with cake and coffee after. I’ll meet you there.” Elisabetta had not only embraced the new couple, she’d babysat for the babies and helped Philip plant tomato seedlings. She even put up with Finn trying to impress her with his rudimentary Italian.

  Mia followed her grandmother’s order, then hurried down the street to Philip and Finn’s home. Elisabetta and the Army were huddled together in the front yard. “Everyone ready?” Philip asked. The small crowd chorused “Yes!” and he whipped off the cloth covering the Virgin Mary. The statue, cleaned and polished to perfection, gleamed in the sunlight, and the women oohed and ahhed. “It’s magnificent,” Andrea said with reverence.

  The others murmured agreement, but Mia noticed Elisabetta seemed perturbed. “What’s wrong, Nonna?” Mia whispered to her grandmother.

  “Now that it’s all cleaned up, their statue’s way better than mine,” Elisabetta muttered. “I gotta up my grotto game.”

  Mia, amused, shook her head. “You are too much. I’m going to work.” She couldn’t resist adding a dig to her competitive grandmother. “Congratulate Philip and Finn on having the prettiest Virgin Mary on the block.”

  Mia biked to Belle View, reveling in the breezes from the warm spring day. The tidy front gardens of the Astoria homes were beginning to bloom, perfuming the air with a variety of flower fragrances. She chained her bicycle to a newly installed rack in front of Belle View, courtesy of Ravello, and was about to go inside when someone called to her.

  “Mia, hey! Wait.”

  Jamie and his Prius pulled up in front of the building. He jumped out of his car. “I’ve got a present for you.” Jamie opened the car’s passenger side back door and took out a cage. Inside, a parakeet—yellow with a green head—chirped happily.

  Mia gasped. “Is it? It can’t be.”

  “It is. It’s Pizzazz.”

  Jamie handed her the cage. Pizzazz fluttered around the cage and then settled on his perch facing Mia, chattering away with enthusiasm. “He’s talking to me,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “How did you ever find him?”

  “Dad has people in Palm Beach. When I told him that I was doing this for you, he instantly called in some favors from a bunch of mooks down there who owed him. Those guys move pretty fast when the boss says all is forgiven if they do this one little thing.”

  Mia laughed through her tears. “You sound just like your dad.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes that ain’t a bad thing,” Jamie said in a perfect imitation of his father’s heavy Noo Yawk accent. “Oh, and here’s a bag of food.”

  He extricated a bag of bird food from the back seat and handed it to Mia, who took it with her free hand. Pizzazz tweeted his enthusiasm at the sight of the bird chow. “Jamie, you’re my hero. I’ll never be able to thank you for this.”

  Jamie blushed. He was about to say something when an attractive woman wearing trendy, flattering eyeglasses stuck her head out of the passenger window. “Hi, I’m Madison. Sorry to interrupt but we need to get going. We’ve got a brunch reservation in the city.”

  “Right, yes.” Jamie gave Mia a desultory hug. “I’ll talk to you.”

  He jumped back in the car and took off. “Queens is the city,” Mia said, her heart heavy as she watched Jamie and his girlfriend drive away. She’d married an adulterer. Been tempted to have a fling with a psychopath who wound up being a double murderer. Maybe someday I’ll make a smart choice, she thought. Maybe someday I’ll find someone like Jamie and let him into my life.

  Pizzazz chirped, and Mia turned her attention to her beloved bird. “You’re right. It’s all good. I’m not ready for another relationship, except for the feathered or furry kind. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

  Mia carried Pizzazz into the Belle View foyer. There was a dull roar and the paintings on the wall shook. She put a foot on the foyer’s large decorative vase to prevent it from skittering out of place. A prop plane was coming in for a landing at LaGuardia. The 9:10 from Syracuse, was Mia’s first thought. Her second was, I can’t believe I know that. Then again, she’d fallen in love with Belle View the minute she laid eyes on it. Her future lay within its warm, if slightly shabby, walls.

  She carried Pizzazz into her office, placed his cage on her office chair, and fed him his breakfast from the bag of bird feed Jamie had included with his special delivery. Her office phone rang. “Belle View Banquet Manor,” she said as soon as she picked up the receiver. “Want to throw your dream party? We’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  RECIPES

  EGGPLANT PARMIGIANA

  Ingredients

  1 large eggplant

  1 egg

  ½ cup liquid egg whites

  1 cup Italian-seasoned bread crumbs

  ½ cup, plus 1 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese

  4 Tbsp. flour

  1 jar, your favorite tomato sauce

  1 tsp. oregano, divided

  ½ tsp. Italian seasoning

  ¼ cup finely chopped fresh basil

  10 oz. shredded part-skim mozzarella

  Olive oil cooking spray

  Instructions

  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

  Trim the ends off the eggplant, then slice it into ½-inch round slabs.

  Beat the egg and egg
whites together in a shallow bowl. In another bowl, mix together the bread crumbs, Parmesan cheese (minus the tablespoon), and flour.

  Spray a large cookie sheet with the olive oil spray. Dredge the eggplant slices in the egg mix, and then in the bread crumb mixture, and arrange them in a single layer on the cookie sheet. (Depending on the size of your eggplant, you may need more than one cookie sheet.) Spritz the top of the eggplant slices with the olive oil spray and bake at 400 degrees until they’re tender and golden brown—around twenty to thirty minutes.

  While the eggplant is baking, empty the jar of sauce into a sauce pan. Add the Italian seasoning, ½ teaspoon of oregano, and fresh basil. Cook the sauce over medium heat, stirring and scraping the sides, until the sauce is heated through.

  Spoon enough of the sauce into a 9” x 16” baking pan to coat the bottom of it. (I like glass pans for this recipe.) Arrange the cooked eggplant slices in the pan, overlapping them wherever necessary. Cover the eggplant with the remaining sauce, top with the mozzarella, and then sprinkle with the tablespoon of grated Parmesan and the other ½ teaspoon of oregano.

  Bake uncovered at 400 degrees until the cheese is melted—about five minutes. Serve with Italian bread and a salad. You can even add a side dish of pasta.

  Serves 6–8.

  COOKIE CUP SHOT GLASSES

  Ingredients

  Cookie shot glass pan

  3 cups flour

  1 tsp. baking powder

  1 cup brown sugar

  ⅓ cup white sugar

  ½ tsp. salt

  2 eggs

  1 tsp. vanilla

  ½ stick butter (melted and cooled)

  ⅔ cup chocolate chips

  1 cup chocolate melting wafers for coating the inside (see note)

  Liquor or liqueur of your choice, or milk

  Instructions