Swinging On A Star

by Janice Thompson

  “The Balinese?” His eyes lit up. “Didn’t Sinatra sing there?”

  “Yes. And a host of other famous people. The place was renowned. And not just for its music. Now it’s gone forever.”

  “Sad how things can seem so perfect one minute and completely devastated the next.” Brock’s voice hinted of something deeper, but I didn’t ask.

  I couldn’t get past the feeling that he had been through some sort of personal trauma in his life. An experience with a woman, perhaps? I’d have to check the Internet to find out who he’d dated to get that answer.

  By the time we dropped Jenna off back at Parma John’s, I was ready for some food. Apparently so were the guys.

  “What do you think Rosa’s making for lunch?” Brock pointed the car toward home.

  “Oh, I heard her say something about meatball sandwiches.” “Mmm.” Brock grinned. “I knew I’d landed in the right house.”

  As I gazed at the reflection of his eyes in the rearview mirror—eyes that shimmered with mirth and mischief—I had to say … I wasn’t so sure he’d landed in the right house. Having Brock Benson so close was really doing a number on me. How could I possibly pull off a medieval wedding and guard him from the paparazzi when I was so easily swayed by those cappuccino eyes?

  11

  I’ve Got the World on a String

  On Saturday afternoon, D.J., Sophia, Brock, and I settled down on the sofas in the living room to rest. And talk. After all the work I’d done preparing for the wedding, I was ready to relax.

  Sophia, who had spent every waking moment of the past three days drooling over Brock, couldn’t wait for another opportunity to do more of the same. Ogling him had become a full-time job. Well, that, and perfecting her appearance. I’d never seen the girl take so much care with how she looked, and today she did not disappoint. Talk about a classic Italian beauty! She had fixed her hair in that style I loved so much— the one where she pulled back a bit of it off her face and let the rest flow freely down her back. I didn’t know anyone who had hair as pretty as my sister. And I could rarely recall ever seeing even one strand out of place. No, she’d definitely inherited my mother’s penchant for perfection, especially when it came to looks.

  I, on the other hand, was more free-spirited. Sure, I took care with my appearance. It would be a rare day for me to go out to the grocery store or florist’s shop without a touch of makeup. And I always took care to make sure my long curls were under control. But I didn’t slave over my appearance like Mama and Sophia did. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I just didn’t have as much to work with.

  And now, completely done up, Sophia sat next to Brock on one sofa, glued to his every word. D.J. and I sat across from them on the other one, hands clasped.

  For whatever reason, holding hands with D.J. in front of Brock was a little unnerving. Might have had something to do with the fact that Brock kept wiggling his eyebrows, as if to say, “This one’s a keeper, Bella!” Or was he saying, “Choose me instead”? Sometimes I couldn’t tell. He flirted endlessly with Sophia, but I’d caught him schmoozing me a couple of times too, especially yesterday afternoon in the car.

  D.J., on the other hand, seemed a little out of sorts. Though he hadn’t said much about Brock, I sensed his discomfort with the situation. And who could blame him? Still, there was little I could do … at least at this point.

  We’d just settled in for a long chat—coffee cups in hand and some of Rosa’s homemade cookies on a tray in front of us—when the doorbell rang.

  Sophia quirked a perfectly sculpted brow. “Do you think Rob and Marian are back from their date to Moody Gardens this quickly?” She rose and went to the door. Seconds later, the house came alive with noise.

  “Hello, Sophia!” a woman’s voice called out. “Why, if you don’t look pretty as a picture! Now, where is that Bella? We need a word with her.”

  I looked at D.J., shocked. “Did you invite Sister Twila?”

  He shook his head, a stunned look on his face. “No way. I mean, I know some of the folks from my church are coming down to the island tonight to see Bubba perform, but it’s only 3:00. And I’ve never told her anything about where you live, so …”

  Now I heard other voices. Of course, I recognized every one. Sister Twila, Sister Jolene, and Sister Bonnie Sue—three very boisterous ladies from D.J.’s church in Splendora, who happened to be as full figured as the church was Full Gospel. They weren’t really sisters, of course. Nor were they nuns. No, at D.J.’s home church, every member was referred to as “brother” or “sister.” And these three sisters were the cream of the crop. Their mission? To spread both the love of Jesus and Sister Twila’s original beauty secrets. They’d already gotten to my mama, who now used hemorrhoid cream to rid herself of wrinkles around the eyes. Still, I couldn’t figure out what the God-loving self-proclaimed beauticians were doing here.

  Brock rose from the sofa, grabbed a couple of cookies, and rushed to the door. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it in time. Sister Jolene met him coming and going. “Oh, so sorry.” She stepped back, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh my. You’re … you’re …”

  Brock turned on his heels and ran. As I peered into the foyer, I caught a glimpse of him loping up the stairs.

  Jolene looked at me, her mouth hanging open. “Bella, was that really … ?”

  “Really who, Jolene?” Twila stepped into the room with Bonnie Sue on her heels. The sisters were dressed to kill today. In fact, they must’ve spent hours applying the makeup alone. I’d never seen so much blue eye shadow in my life. And the dresses! I didn’t know sequins came in that size, but the room was suddenly filled with glittering, sparkling, plus-sized females who babbled nonsensically.

  Well, all but Jolene. She hadn’t said a word since Brock’s disappearing act. Instead, she continued to stare, mouth wide open. Twila reached over and closed it for her. “We’ve talked about this before, honey. An open mind and an open mouth are not one and the same. Now, close that garage door before a car drives in.”

  D.J. lost it and started laughing. I’d never seen him so out of control. Trying to maintain a sense of decorum, I ushered the women into the room. They spent a few minutes covering my cheeks with kisses. As I gestured for them to be seated, they crowded onto one sofa, which creaked its displeasure under their weight. They didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe they simply didn’t mind. They were, after all, quite proud of their physiques.

  Jolene continued staring out into the foyer. “I … I was sure I saw …” She looked at me for help.

  I swallowed hard and said, “Vinny. Vinny DiMarco. Great guy. He’s here for a visit from out of state. But I think he’s tired, so we’ll let him nap.”

  “Oh.” Jolene’s brow wrinkled, and she shrugged. “I really need to get my eyes checked. This astigmatism is causing me to see things.”

  “Honey, I’ve been telling you that for months.” Bonnie Sue waved her hand. “You’ve got to see my optometrist, Dr.

  McYummy.”

  “All in favor of Jolene getting some glasses?” Twila asked, raising her hand. We all reluctantly put up our hands, and she said, “The ayes have it!” Turning to Jolene, she giggled. “Get it? The eyes have it.”

  “Got it. Got it.” Jolene shrugged but continued to stare in the direction of the foyer.

  Determined to keep this ship sailing in the right direction, I smiled and offered an opening line. “To what do we owe this honor, ladies?”

  “Well, we were coming to Bubba’s debut tonight anyway,” Twila said. “And I remembered you said your family’s place was next door to the wedding facility.” She nodded, as if that answered my question.

  “So we looked you up on Mapquest,” Bonnie Sue threw in. “And voilà! Here we are.”

  “Dressed for the opera already!” I added.

  “Heavens, yes. We didn’t know what the day would hold and wanted to be ready,” Jolene said. She leaned forward to whisper, “Besides, you never know when you might meet up with a han
dsome man, and I for one want to be ready to sweep him off his feet.” She gave me a wink.

  I couldn’t help but think she certainly had the potential to sweep a man off his feet, but not necessarily in the way she implied. But that still didn’t answer the question about why they’d come for a visit.

  “Bella, no point in beating around the bush.” Twila put her hands on her knees and looked me straight in the eye. “We’re leaving on a cruise tomorrow morning and want to know if we can leave my car here for the seven days we’re out to sea.”

  “Oh?” I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. The Rossis already had a plethora of vehicles lining the driveway. What would we do with another?

  “If we leave it in the parking lot at the pier, it’s going to cost us ten dollars a day,” she said. “Ten dollars a day!” Twila fanned herself, as if she found this the most unthinkable thing ever.

  Jolene giggled. “We would much rather spend that money on excursions while we’re in Cozumel. We plan to go snorkeling.”

  Now that created quite an image.

  “You don’t mind, do you honey?” Twila asked, batting her eyelashes. “Surely you could drive us to the pier tomorrow. Wouldn’t take more than a minute.”

  “I told them you wouldn’t mind,” Bonnie Sue added. “Because you’re the sweetest little thing on Planet Earth, Bella.”

  Now what, Lord?

  I did my best to put together a plan. “Well, we don’t have space in the driveway at our house. But I can park it in front of the wedding facility, I guess. If you leave me the keys.” Because I’m going to hide it from the masses on the day of the wedding, that’s for sure.

  Twila reached into her purse and came up with a set of rhinestone-studded keys, which she jangled in front of me. “I’ll pass these off to you or your mama after the opera tonight.” She tucked the keys back into her tiny handbag and leaned back against the sofa. “That Pinto of mine is going to think she’s died and gone to heaven down here so near the gulf.”

  “P-pinto?” Sophia reached for a magazine from the coffee table and began to fan herself.

  “Sure, honey. Best car ever made. I’ve driven Gertrude since 1983. I’ll bet you’ve never seen a car with two hundred eighty thousand miles on it before.” She gave me a wink.

  “Twila really gets around.” Jolene giggled, then her cheeks flushed pink as Twila slugged her in the arm.

  “That joke was funny in the nineties, Jolene, but it passed its expiration date ten years ago.”

  “So, tell us more about your cruise,” D.J. said. “I’ve never been on one.”

  “Oh, honey! You’ve never been on a cruise?” Twila looked stunned when D.J. shook his head. She turned to Sophia.

  “I think I would go stir-crazy on a cruise ship,” my sister said with a shrug.

  “Heavens, no!” Jolene countered. “Why, think of all the handsome men you could meet hanging out at the pool or at the midnight chocolate buffet.”

  Sophia perked up at the word chocolate.

  Twila looked my way. “What about you, Bella?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I know it’s strange, since I live so close to the pier and all, but I’ve never been.”

  “You simply have to go!” Jolene’s eyes lit up. “Cruises are absolutely glorious. It’s very freeing being out there on the open seas.”

  “This is our fifth,” Twila said. “And it won’t be our last. Well, unless Jesus comes back or one of us crosses over the Jordan to the Promised Land. But I think I’ve got a few more years left in me. What do you think, girls?”

  “Oh, I plan to be around awhile,” Bonnie Sue said, checking her hair in her tiny compact mirror. “I promised myself I wouldn’t die till I found Mr. Right.”

  “So you plan to find him and then die?” Jolene slapped her knee. “Poor guy!”

  “Or poor Bonnie Sue,” Twila said with a giggle.

  Bonnie Sue sighed. “There’s no explaining anything to you ladies. I’m just saying that I don’t plan to die anytime soon, that’s all.”

  I wasn’t sure what all of this talk of dying had to do with cruising, but they eventually got back around to telling us all about the adventures they planned to share over the next several days.

  “There’s an ice-skating rink on our ship,” Bonnie Sue said. “Ice-skating! Can you imagine? They perform the most wonderful ice shows. I once saw a man do a triple lutz.”

  “No kidding.” I did my best to get involved but didn’t know how long I could take this.

  “And not just ice shows,” Twila threw in. “There’s the most marvelous theater on board the ship, and they put on real Broadway-type productions. Great song-and-dance numbers.”

  “Remember that fifties extravaganza they did last year?” Jolene giggled. “I knew every word to every song.” She lit into a chorus of “At the Hop,” and before long they were all singing. I had to admit, they weren’t bad. Still, it didn’t make me want to go on a cruise.

  Twila sighed as she looked my way. “You’ve just got to go on a cruise, Bella.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I have the most wonderful idea!”

  I was terrified to ask what it was.

  “Next year you can go with us!” She let out a squeal, and all of the ladies followed suit.

  “Oh, that’s the perfect plan!” Jolene said. “Twila and I can share one cabin, and you can bunk with Bonnie Sue.”

  “Just bring your earplugs,” Bonnie Sue said with a wink, “because I snore. Or so I’ve been told.”

  “I used to snore, but now I use one of those CPAP machines,” Twila said with a nod. “It’s been a real lifesaver.”

  “And the mask is really chic,” Jolene added.

  I tried to envision what it might be like to travel the high seas with the Splendora trio, but couldn’t. Besides, I’d never done very well on boats.

  “Well, think on that,” Twila said, standing. “We want you to come with, but you may have other plans.” She gave D.J. a wink.

  “Other plans?” I looked at her, curiosity setting in.

  “You know …” Twila pointed to her ring finger and grinned in D.J.’s direction. “Other plans.” She began to hum “Here Comes the Bride,” and I almost fell off the sofa.

  “Why don’t Sophia and I show you the house?” I stood and gestured for them to join me.

  “Sure.” Twila nodded. “We’ve got some time to kill before we check in at the Tremont. We’d love to take a tour of your house, Bella. We don’t see a lot of these old Victorians up Splendora-way.”

  “Oh, okay.” My thoughts raced as I tried to imagine where Brock had gone. Likely up to his room. Easy enough. I’d just avoid that one on the tour. Then again, there was Mama to contend with. She was up in her bathroom, putting on her makeup. She’d been a nervous wreck all morning. How would she take to having our Splendora friends look over her house on such a hectic day?

  Twila harrumphed as she hefted herself from the sofa. Then she extended a hand to help Bonnie Sue, whose joints cracked and popped as she stood. Jolene was the last to rise, her beehive hairdo waggling back and forth as she struggled to balance on her sparkling, high-heeled shoes.

  “I guess we’re ready.” I looked to D.J. for moral support, and he rolled his eyes in playful fashion. Great.

  We made the rounds from room to room, starting with the downstairs. Just as I led the women into the dining room, I thought I caught a glimpse of Brock shooting across the hall into the kitchen. Yikes. Maybe I could avoid that room.

  No such luck. Bonnie Sue claimed she “must see that kitchen or die trying,” so I took a few tentative steps into the room. As was often the case, I found Rosa working diligently. In the background, the tiny television set was playing a show from the Food Network. This time it was The Barefoot Contessa, one of Rosa’s favorites. The woman on the screen was making some sort of potato dish, which she served to her husband and a couple of his friends.

  My aunt looked up as we entered the room, brushed her hands on her flour-covered apro
n, and broke into a smile as she saw the three ladies.

  “Oh, three of my favorite people in the world!” She clasped her hands together. “I’m so happy you’ve come! It’s been ages since that wonderful Fourth of July picnic. Can you stay for dinner?”

  My mind began to reel as panic set in. How in the world could I keep Brock hidden from the trio if they stayed for dinner? I ushered up a silent prayer, begging the Lord for mercy.

  “Well, I don’t know.” Jolene looked at Bonnie Sue, who looked at Twila. “We’re going to the opera at seven, you know.”

  “Oh, we all are.” Rosa practically beamed. “That’s why we’re having an early dinner. I’m making my homemade ravioli with gravy.”

  “Gravy?” Bonnie Sue’s nose wrinkled. “On pasta?”

  “Red sauce,” I explained. “We always call it gravy.”

  I got hungry just thinking of it. Ravioli day was always my favorite. From the time I was in elementary school, I’d loved watching Aunt Rosa roll out the dough and stuff it. In fact, I’d helped on many occasions. She just had a way with pasta, though. When no one else could get it right, Rosa could.

  And talk about the perfect gravy—Rosa’s red sauce was out of this world! Of course, she started with tomatoes from Laz’s garden out back, so that gave her an added advantage. And not just any tomatoes, of course—only Romas. A gravy-making day was really something to behold. In fact, it could take the major portion of a day and leave the kitchen a bit of a mess. Oh, but it was worth it! The first time you ladled a spoonful of that tasty tomato-y stuff into your mouth, you thought you’d died and gone to heaven.

  “My ravioli is the best, if I do say so myself.” Rosa nodded, settling the deal.

  “Humph.” Laz chose that moment to enter the room. He opened the fridge, grabbed a soda, then looked at the three women with a scrutinizing eye. “What have we here?”

  “We’re going to the opera, Lazarro. Are you coming too?” Jolene took a few steps in his direction, her eyes firmly locked on his. Suddenly all of this made sense. They’d come not just because of the car but because one of them had her eye on my uncle.