Rosa’s eyes darted back and forth between Jolene and Laz, her jaw tightening.
Aha. So I was right.
Rosa began to mutter something about needing to get the Crisco out of the pantry for her piecrust, and Twila piped up, “Oh, have you tried Crisco to remove your makeup? The Splendora Daily did a write-up on my beauty secrets, and Crisco is number one on my list. It works wonders.”
Laz grunted. “Rosa? Makeup?”
At this point, Rosa’s anger apparently got the better of her. She went to the pantry door and yanked it open. This simple act was followed by a bloodcurdling scream that sent the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
Unfortunately, Rosa didn’t come out with Crisco.
She came out with Brock Benson.
12
The Way You Look Tonight
As I laid eyes on Brock, unexpected laughter almost got the better of me. In the length of time we’d been visiting with the ladies, he’d apparently gotten into my brother’s dresser and pulled out a worn plaid shirt and some jeans that were about three inches too short. He’d donned Armando’s old glasses too, the ones with the broken frames that had been taped together. And his hair … what had the boy done to his hair? Instead of the usual well-kept ’do, he’d lopped it to one side, giving himself a strange, geeky look. Of course, the hair looked better than the tube socks. They really took the cake. The guy looked like an Italian Steve Urkel. Only … worse.
Rosa inched her way out of the pantry, hands over her mouth. I could almost read her thoughts. She knew better than to give him away, of course, but he’d clearly scared the daylights out of her. I had a feeling she would get him back later.
Can anyone spell “food poisoning”?
Sophia appeared in the doorway and clamped a hand over her mouth as she saw Brock. Before she could open her mouth and say something we’d all regret, I made quick introductions. Steadying my voice, I said, “Ladies, you heard me mention our good friend Vinny DiMarco. Vinny, meet Jolene, Twila, and Bonnie Sue, our friends from Splendora. They’re here to see Bubba in The Marriage of Figaro.”
Thank goodness Brock’s acting skills were better than mine. He grabbed Twila’s hand and kissed it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw D.J. roll his eyes.
Brock seemed not to notice. He kept his gaze on the trio. Giving a slight bow, he said, “Ladies, I’m delighted.”
“Wish I could say the same,” Twila responded, looking a little bug-eyed. “You scared me to death.”
“So very sorry. I was looking for a …”
“Oh, that Vinny.” Rosa waved her hand. “He just snacks all day long. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found him defrosting the fridge, looking for a between-meal treat. He just eats me out of house and home.” She turned to him, giving him the evil eye. “But this time you’ve almost gone too far, boy. You could’ve given an old woman a heart attack hiding in the pantry like that. I never even saw you come in the room. You’re quite a sneak.”
“Yes, Vinny.” D.J. pursed his lips and crossed his arms at his chest. “You really need to watch what you’re doing.”
Okay then. Things were going well.
“My apologies.” Brock offered up a rehearsed pout.
Twila shook her head, looking him up and down. “I find it hard to believe this kid eats all day long when he hasn’t got an ounce of fat on him. Doesn’t seem possible. Where does he put it all?”
“Must have a hollow leg,” Bonnie Sue observed.
“How’s he ever gonna catch a girl if he’s skinny as a rail?” Jolene asked with a worried look crossing her face. “We’ve got to fatten him up.”
I saw the look of concern in Brock’s eyes and noticed him eyeing the door. Probably looking for an escape route.
“I don’t think he’s too thin,” Sophia said. “He’s just right.”
“Humph. Well, it’s not just his size.” Twila cocked her head as she continued to look him over. “It’s the clothing. Surely you Rossis can help him in that department.”
A giggle worked its way out of me, and I clamped a hand over my mouth.
“What, Bella?” Twila turned my way. “You think he’s hopeless? I’ll have you know my beauty secrets could turn this boy around in no time. We’ll have him looking—and dressing—like a Hollywood hottie before you know it. All it takes is a little work.”
Behind the glasses, Brock’s eyes sparkled. “You think so? You really think so?” He took Twila by the hand again. “I’m willing to do the work. I promise I am. If I could just win the heart of a girl …” He looked my way and sighed. “I’d be the happiest guy on the planet.”
“Well, you can’t have this one,” Jolene said with a brusque nod. “She’s already spoken for.”
“Yes, she is.” D.J. slipped a protective arm over my shoulder and drew me close. His gesture spoke a thousand words.
I could see the momentary flicker of something odd in Brock’s expression. Hmm. Perhaps he was just acting, but I had to give him a trophy for this one. For a second there, I thought I saw hope in his eyes—hope that he would somehow win my heart.
Not that that was possible. No, my heart was already given to D.J., who now held me so tightly I could scarcely breathe. Yep. This was going well.
“How are you going to help him?” Bonnie Sue asked. “We need a jumping-off place, don’t you think?”
“Hmm.” Twila stood back and crossed her arms at her chest. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something. How long are you staying in Texas, Vinny?”
“Oh, another week or so.”
“It’s a shame we’ll be out to sea for much of that time. You really need a lot of work.”
“Do I?” He forced another pout.
“Yes.” Twila snapped her fingers, then looked at me. “I know! Tonight after the opera I’ll go back to my hotel room and put together a list of things you can be working on while we’re gone. Then you can surprise us when we get back.” She grinned. “Bella, you can do it.” She turned to Sophia. “Both of you girls work together. You can help this poor boy out. Turn this ugly duckling into a swan in no time at all.”
“It’ll be just like My Fair Lady,” Jolene added. “Only not.”
Brock turned to me with a far-too-serious look on his face. “I will be your doting pupil, I promise.”
I’ll bet you will.
He turned Sophia’s way and offered a smile. Her cheeks flamed pink as she responded, “It will be my pleasure.”
For the sake of the women, I gave a hearty response. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
Brock schlepped off into the other room, grabbing an apple along the way. As he left the room, he turned back to holler, “Thanks, ladies. I owe you!”
Jolene began to cluck her tongue in motherly fashion. “Poor guy. I can’t believe he’s gone this long in such bad shape.” She turned to me with a broad smile. “But I know you, Bella. You’ve put a new sparkle in D.J.’s eye. Surely you can put a sparkle in Vinny’s. Well, in his wardrobe, at the very least.” She erupted in laughter and I joined in. What else could I do, after all? If I couldn’t beat ’em, I might as well join ’em.
“I’ve learned that every frog is really a prince,” Twila said with a pensive look on her face. “All it takes is a Texas spit shine to bring it out.”
“Not sure I’d agree with that,” Bonnie Sue said, wrinkling her nose. “Remember Jim Bob Hooligan from Madisonville? That man was a frog through and through.”
Twila shook her head. “Au contraire. In order for a frog to see himself as a prince, he’s got to be convinced. Problem with Jim Bob was, he never found the right woman to convince him.”
Bonnie Sue muttered something about how there weren’t enough fickle women in the state of Texas to do the trick, but Twila didn’t seem to hear. No, she was hard at work putting together a list of things I needed to do to whip Brock—er, Vinny—into shape while she was on her cruise.
Just what I needed. Another assignm
ent.
13
From Both Sides, Now
By late Saturday afternoon, the entire Rossi household was in a frantic state. Mama was worried about Bubba, of course.
Pop was worried about Mama, who hadn’t slept in days and hadn’t eaten a decent meal. I was fretting over the whole Twila, Jolene, Bonnie Sue fiasco. And Brock … well, Brock seemed to find the entire situation hilarious. The more tickled he got, the more attractive my sister found him, despite his change in wardrobe. And the more attractive she found him, the more my brother Joey ribbed her. Somewhere in the midst of all this, D.J. scooted off to Landry’s to have dinner with his family, then on home to dress for the opera.
With all of the chaos in the house, Guido took to singing. Not “Amazing Grace,” but that age-old classic and everyone’s favorite—“Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” By the time Rob and Marian arrived home from Moody Gardens at 4:30, Guido was down to thirty-seven bottles of beer and I thought I might snap like a twig. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time or the patience for a nervous breakdown today. I had places to go, people to see. After dinner, of course.
Just a few minutes before we were set to eat, my cell phone rang. I looked at it, stunned to see my ex-boyfriend’s number.
I answered with a tentative “Hello? Tony?”
His voice sounded strained. “Bella, have you, um, have you seen Sophia?” The anxiety in his voice confirmed what I’d come to suspect—he had a thing for my sister. And he must wonder what she’d been up to lately. Since Brock’s arrival, she had pretty much shut herself off from the world.
“I wanted to sit with her at the opera tonight,” he said. “Do you think she’ll sit with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I paused, then said, “Have you tried her cell phone?”
“Yeah. She’s not answering.”
“Well, I know she’s been really busy lately.”
Tony sighed. “Helping Laz at the restaurant?”
“Oh, sometimes.” But that’s not why she’s busy right now. She’s busy ogling Brock Benson. “She’s been spending time at home with the family. You know, Rosa’s got that big thing coming up with the Food Network.”
“Right.” Another sigh from Tony let me know he had truly been missing my sister.
“I’ll tell her you’ve been trying to reach her. I think she’s just distracted right now. But don’t give up the ship, okay?”
“I won’t.” After a moment’s silence, he whispered, “And thanks, Bella. I know this has to be weird … me liking your sister.”
“I’ll admit, it’s taken some getting used to, Tony. But I hope things work out between you and Sophia. I really do.”
“Thanks. And I really meant what I said earlier. I want to see her at the opera tonight. Does she … well, do you know if she already has a date?”
“Not that I know of.” And this will be the perfect thing to take her mind off Brock Benson. “Call her one more time, Tony. I think she’ll sit with you. And even if you can’t reach her, just come and sit with us, like you normally do. You know Mama included you when she got the tickets, same as always.” In fact, at the time Mama got the tickets, Tony and I had still been dating. Amazing how much had changed in such a short period of time.
“Perfect.” He paused, then added, “And thanks, Bella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Strange words, coming from my ex.
We ended the call, and I thought about all of the changes in my life over the past few months. Had I really known D.J. for only one summer? Crazy!
At 5:00 I met the others in the dining room. Mama had already gone on to the theater—no big surprise there—and Pop was dressed for the opera. It had been some time since I’d seen him this done up. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “You’re the handsomest man at the table,” to which he responded, “I’m the only man at the table.”
“Ah. Right.” Joey hadn’t come downstairs yet, and Brock and Rob were in the kitchen, likely putting Crisco in someone’s hair. Or under their eyes.
Soon we were all in place, and Pop prayed—not just for the meal but also for tonight’s performance. He added an extra prayer that Mama would live to tell about all of this. Then we dove into the meal Rosa had prepared.
The sisters sang my aunt’s praises as they tunneled through plate after plate of ravioli. Marian and Rob watched this whole thing in silence. No doubt they wondered if they’d come back to the same house they’d left hours earlier, especially with Brock in such interesting attire.
Pop scraped the cheese off his food and groaned. “Rosa …”
“What, Cosmo? What have I done this time?”
“It’s the cheese. Don’t you remember? I’m lactose intolerant.” She muttered something under her breath, which he asked her to repeat.
“You’re intolerant, all right,” she sputtered. “But it doesn’t have anything to do with cheese.”
I thought his temper might flare, but instead Pop just laughed. Before long we were all laughing. Oh, if only all of life’s problems could end with such ease!
Thankfully, our guests didn’t seem at all put off by Pop’s aversion to cheese or Rosa’s slight temper problems. Twila in particular seemed to enjoy our family. “I am just so excited about Bubba’s performance at the opera,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. “He’s going to put Splendora on the map.”
“Oh yes. Half the town is here!” Bonnie Sue said. “Including Harry Pitts, the editor of the Splendora Daily. This is big time.”
“Harry Pitts, eh?” Brock quirked a brow. “Sounds like we’ve hit the big time.” He took a bite of ravioli and leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I’m going to miss it.”
“Miss it?” Jolene looked horrified. “What do you mean? You’re not going?”
“None of us are.” Brock pointed to Rob and Marian. “We’ve got other plans.”
“Well, pooh on that!” Twila pointed her fork at him, probably not realizing that a piece of ravioli dangled precariously from the end. “How in the world do you expect to morph into a prince if you’re satisfied to hang out at the pond with the frogs?”
Rob turned to her with a stunned look on his face. “A-are you calling me a frog?”
Twila paled as she pressed the ravioli into her mouth. After swallowing, she answered his question. “I’m not calling you a frog, young man. I’m just saying Vinny needs to get out more, and what better place than the opera? He needs culture. Refinement.”
“Yeah.” Brock nodded, a twinkle in his eye. “I need refinement.”
“We’ve got extra tickets,” Pop threw in. “So you’re welcome to join us.”
Brock turned to my sister. “What do you think, Sophia? Want to take an unrefined guy like me to the opera?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in the room. Every head turned Sophia’s way. If she responded with a yes, the whole of Galveston was likely to figure out our secret. On the other hand, if she turned him down for this date, she’d regret it for the rest of her life, knowing Sophia. I mean, who got asked out by Hollywood’s leading man?
I closed my eyes, ushering up several prayers. Lord, give her wisdom. Lord, give her wisdom.
“I …” She hesitated and then choked out, “I would be honored.”
“Oh, but what will he wear?” Twila pursed her lips and shook her head. “This is a real dilemma.”
“Don’t worry about that.” My pop waved a hand. “We got enough suits and tuxedos around here to clothe an entire wedding party. We’ll figure it out.”
“Wonderful!” Twila clapped her hands together and smiled. “Oh, what a night this is going to be!”
Yes. What a night this was going to be.
I glared at Brock, hoping he would realize just what a pickle this put me in.
We finished the meal by 5:45, and everyone flew into action. Marian headed back to the mainland, and Rob informed us he planned to spend the evening catching up on last-minute details related to the h
oneymoon. Twila, Bonnie Sue, and Jolene left to meet up with Earline and others from Splendora. Sophia and I raced up the stairs to dress for the opera. Brock followed along on Pop’s heels, nodding as my father chatted about the various suits and ties he owned.
Man. Were we ever in for a crazy evening. How would I survive the chaos?
I slipped into my room and pulled my favorite green dress from the closet. D.J. always said it looked great against my olive skin, and it was just fancy enough for the opera house. Then I touched up my makeup and pulled my curls into an updo. I could hardly wait to see D.J.’s face when he got a look at me.
I was nearly ready to roll when I heard a rap on the door. Sophia popped her head in. “You ready?”
“Mm-hmm.” I looked at her, taking in the beautiful black and silver dress. Man. Did she look amazing, or what? “What in the world are we going to do about Brock, though? Everyone in town is going to know who he is.”
“I know.” She groaned. “And I’m so sorry for saying I’d go with him. I just didn’t know how to say no. Can you imagine looking into those eyes and turning him down?”
Hmm. What to say, what to say …
“It’s not your fault, Sophia. He set you up. Though why he set you up, I’m not sure. Surely he knows the risks involved.” I released a sigh, feeling the weight lift a little. “It’s on his head now. We’re not to blame.”
“What do you suppose he’s going to wear?” Sophia chuckled. “And what’s he going to do with his hair? Do you think he’ll wear it like that in public?”
“I haven’t got a clue. But it sure helps hide his identity, so I hope so.”
We got our answer a few minutes later, though I had to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Loaded with an overabundance of gel, Brock’s hair looked even geekier than before, but that wasn’t really what jumped out at me. Pop must’ve rummaged in the very back of his closet to come up with the outfit Brock had donned—a tuxedo that looked like it had passed its expiration date in the ’70s, complete with a black-on-white ruffled shirt poking out underneath.
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