Every Boy's Got One
Page 13
Poor boy. He must really not have anything else to do….
Oh, the secretario is handing something to Holly—
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HAGUE CONVENTION ABOLISHING THE REQUIREMENT OF CONSULAR LEGALISATION FOR FOREIGN PUBLIC DOCUMENTS
The United States of America and Italy and some other countries have signed a convention abolishing the requirements of diplomatic and consular acknowledgements or legalizations of public documents originating in one convention country and intended for use in another convention country signatory of the convention.
This consulate general, therefore, will not henceforth acknowledge or legalize public documents: notarial documents, deeds, certificates of vital statistics, wills, court decrees, etc.
To be valid in any other of the countries signatories of the convention, all documents must carry an APOSTILLE.
To obtain the “APOSTILLE” in any of the United States, a document is first notarized by a Notary Public in that state and then authenticated by the Country Clerk in the country in which the notary is qualified.
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e-mails
To: Listserv
Fr: Peter Schumacher
Re: JANE HARRIS
NEWS FLASH! JANE HARRIS is here in Italy to be the witness for the wedding of her friends. Today they go to the Ufficio di Secretario of Castelfidardo for the license to marry, and the secretario said NON! He would not allow it, as the friends of Jane Harris did not get APOSTILLE from the US consulate in Roma!
I have driven my motorino straight from the Ufficio di Secretario myself to let you in on the news, and also to tell my grandmother, who says she will speak to the secretario herself after lunch, because she knows his mother! And she says his mother will be very angry when she learns her son would not let the American lovers marry! Grandmother says she will take this to Mayor Torelli himself, if she must!
At the Ufficio di Secretario, JANE HARRIS was wearing pink short-sleeved shirt, trousers in black cotton, and pink sandals! Her toenails are painted pink to match! JANE HARRIS is still looking very cute!
More later from #1 fan of Wundercat!
Wundercat Lives—4eva!
Peter
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To: Claire Harris
Fr: Jane Harris
Re: You
Disaster! The city of Castelfidardo won’t allow Holly and Mark to get married here! Not without some stamp from the US consulate in Rome!
Which means we have to drive all the way there and back to get it. That’s another eight hours there and back in the car! And we only have the house until Friday, when Holly’s uncle comes back from his latest accordion tour. And the Secretario says the mayor’s calendar is totally booked, and only the mayor can perform wedding ceremonies!
Everybody is pretty bummed. Well, except for Cal, of course. He is totally against marriage on principle. He thinks there must be something inherently wrong with you and Dad for having been together for so long. He has absolutely no idea how normal human beings function. It’s possible he’s a robot.
Anyway, we’re going to grab lunch in town and reconnoiter back at the secretario’s office later. Holly’s uncle’s housekeeper might be able to do something, according to her great-grandson. Apparently, she knows everybody’s mother, and can shame them into doing whatever she wants.
Hope Dad’s back is feeling better! Good thing, those gloves.
Love,
Janie
PDA of Cal Langdon
PDA of Cal Langdon
Insisted on buying lunch, as everyone in our party was completely dejected (excepting myself, of course).
It seems that Italian bureaucracy is doing my job for me, insofar as keeping Mark and Holly from wedded bliss (or bust). It appears the young couple cannot be wed unless they get a specific stamp on a form that can only be secured at the American embassy back in Rome. Their choices are to skip the whole thing or pile back into the car and drive back to Rome tomorrow.
At this point, Mark seems to be leaning toward making the trip. Surprisingly, it’s his lady love whose resolve seems to be flagging. I wonder if Holly is quite as enthusiastic about the idea of marrying Mark as I—and her friend Jane—once presumed.
This, at least, explains why Ms. Harris insists upon carrying on our conversations via text. She must have known that her friend’s enthusiasm was not all it should be.
And I must say, if a small detail like a stamp on a form and an eight-hour drive are enough to drive Ms. Caputo into such dudgeon, perhaps Mark really is better off single.
The girls are in the ladies’ room, doing whatever it is women do when they enter such facilities together. Mark is on his cell with the car rental agency in Ancona. Apparently, the replacement vehicle New York Journal promised him earlier this morning is no longer available. Good thing he called before we made the trip.
Lunch was delicious, by the way. We found a small family-run establishment popular with the many accordion-factory workers in town. For twenty euros total we enjoyed an exquisitely prepared lemon pasta, grilled scallops, insalata caprese, and a carafe of bianco frizzante. We received a number of odd looks, to be sure, from the natives. This is clearly a restaurant that doesn’t see many Americans.
And clearly has never heard of a non-smoking section.
Still, a pleasant meal, in all.
Now, I presume, we shall be trekking back to town hall to argue some more with the presiding officials. With any luck, we’ll be joined by Inga Schumacher—taking this tragi-comedy to a whole new level of hilarity—and her great-grandson, who seems to have glued himself to our sides… not that his nearconstant presence seems to bother Ms. Harris. In fact, I’m starting to believe she actually likes having the kid around. Peter’s presence makes it very difficult for me to say all the things I’d like to say to the object of his devotion….
Perhaps this is just as well. I always seem to be thinking—and saying—the oddest things around that woman. Telling her I think she’s cute when she’s angry? What was I doing? I NEVER say that kind of thing, much less write it.
That’s right. She has it in writing, permanent proof of my idiocy.
I ought to be shot.
Especially since it’s more than clear that she thinks I’m—what was it? Oh, yes. An ass. That’s very nice. Being called an ass by a woman who makes her living drawing a cartoon of a cat. Excuse me, did I create something that people have forever since been forcing me to look at, dangling from suction cups on the back windshield of their car? No, I did not.
It’s all this damned fizzy wine. That’s what it is. I just need a beer. Maybe this afternoon, since it doesn’t look as if we’ll be changing cars in Ancona, I’ll talk Mark into going to a bar with me—there’s that Crazy Bar and Sexy Tattoo Shop in Porto Recanati—and we’ll talk this whole marriage thing out over a couple of cold ones….
Though I think I’ll keep my thoughts about Ms. Harris to myself. And the fact that today she’s got on a pair of shoes I haven’t seen before. Open-toe, of course, with these pink straps that criss-cross over the cat tattoo—
I need some air.
Travel Diary of Jane Harris
Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine
Jane Harris
Poor Holly. She’s crushed.
Stupid secretario . And stupid Italy. I hate it here again! How can they be so mean? Can’t they see they’re destroying one of the sweetest, gentlest girls in the world with their ridiculous bureaucratic red tape?
At least Frau Schumacher understands. She’s really letting that secretario have it. He looks kind of scared. He keeps saying something about the mayor. Apparently, he doesn’t have the authority to do… something.
But the mayor does.
/> I think Frau Schumacher told him to let us in to see the mayor, then.
Wow! For an old lady, Frau Schumacher sure can be intimidating!
Thank God for Peter running home to get her. Well, really, thank God for Wondercat. Because without Wondercat, Peter wouldn’t have even known about our problem and gone to get his greatgrandmother.
And of course, there’d be no Wondercat if it weren’t for The Dude. So really, none of this would be happening if it weren’t for my cat.
As usual. Just further proof that The Dude, as I’ve always suspected, really is God.
Now the secretario ’s left his own office. Frau Schumacher looks very pleased with herself. I asked Peter what’s going on, and he said, “The secretario is going to see if ze mayor vill change his schedule to let your friends get married on Vednesday. There is maybe an opening in ze calendar on zis day.”
When I commented that this seemed like a positive development, Peter nodded and said, “Yes. Zey are all very frightened of my grandmuzzer. She will go to the mayor’s muzzer, and zat zey do not want.”
Yes! Joy!
You would think Holly would be happier to hear that. But she’s just sitting next to me, holding her stomach and looking kind of queasy.
Well, I guess I can’t really blame her. She’s been looking forward to getting married for so long, and all of these delays have to be—
The secretario is back. Oh my gosh! We’re being summoned to the mayor’s office!
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e-mails
To: Jane Harris
Fr: Claire Harris
Re: You
Oh, sweetie, that’s horrible news about poor Holly! Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, but Daddy dropped a picture frame on his big toe so we were just at Promptcare getting it X-rayed. Not broken, thank God, but a bad bruise. I sent him to bed with a bowl of Breyers.
I do hope you’re able to work something out for Holly. It would be such a shame for she and Mark— well, all of you, really—to have gone all that way and then not be able to have your little elopement. I feel just terrible.
But, even if they can’t get married, you can still have a nice vacation, can’t you? What is Holly’s uncle’s house like? Is it pretty? Do the windows lock? Because you know I just saw on the news that in a lot of those oceanside communities, people leave the windows open at night to let in the sea breezes, and it’s like an invitation to thieves and rapists! They just slip in on through the windows and take whatever they want! I hope you’re making sure all the windows are locked at night.
And I hope you’re not being too mean to that handsome Cal Langdon. You’re a very vibrant and pretty girl, Janie, and you know men can’t help falling in love with you. Remember how many of them asked you to the senior prom? Well, it’s true a lot of them were freshman boys who couldn’t have taken you anyway….
But the way they mooned around the house, asking Daddy if they could mow the lawn, when we knew perfectly well they just wanted a glimpse of you. Keep in mind that some of those boys you wouldn’t give the time of day to went on to have very good jobs at Pfizer.
And Helen Shipley told me her son Curt makes six figures in the cruise ship industry!
Why you keep insisting Curt is one of those bisexuals, I can’t imagine. Helen says it simply isn’t true. Curt’s not married yet because he just hasn’t met the right girl, according to Helen. Probably YOU were the right girl, and he’s just waiting for you to get in touch.
Also, according to Charlie Rose, Mr. Langdon got a VERY nice advance for that little book he wrote. That’s not something you ought to turn up your nose at, you know. Wondercat is darling, but it won’t always be as popular as it is now. You need to think about your future, you know, Janie.
Love,
Mom
PS Daddy says to tell you it looks as if that cartoon about the flying serving utensils has been canceled. That might open up a slot for the Wondercat animated series, don’t you think?
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To: Listserv
Fr: Peter Schumacher
Re: JANE HARRIS
SUCCESS!!! My grandmother has arranged it all! The friends of JANE HARRIS will be married Wednesday morning at nine o’clock, before the mayor had to go and coach the American football game at the primary school, where he is also the athletic director when he is not being mayor.
But they must get the stamp from the consulate of the US before they can be married. So tomorrow they will go to Rome to receive it.
All is done, and by my grandmother! Everyone was much excited! Except for the secretario and the mayor.
But best of all—
JANE HARRIS KISSED ME!!!! YES!!!! To say thank you for making it so that her friends can have their marriage!!!
Never will I wash this face again.
That is all for now. I am Peter Schumacher, #1 fan of Wundercat, saying
TSCHUSS!
Wundercat Lives—4eva!
Peter
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GE. SP. AL. S.N.C
Viale Europa 44
Porto Recanati (MC)
GROCERY
EURO
PelliCola Co
0,50
6 Minibiscot
2,50
Olive Bella
2,50
Kinder Sorpr
1,80
Birra Peroni, 24
12,76
Insalata Rom
0,66
Tomato Ketch
2,23
Uva Italia P
1,95
The Twinings
1,90
Insalata Tro
0,41
Puro Succo
1,33
Naionese Cal
1,22
Latte Fr.A.Q.
1,37
Insalata Gen
0,38
Latte Fr. Int
1,30
Oro Duepic’c
2,34
637 Pom.Ross
1,90
Banco Taglio
1,01
Oro Piu’caca
1,53
Olive verdi
0,78
Bisc. Conad G
0,89
Pane Dolci I
0,55
Pomodori Pel
0,55
Doricream
0,65
Mais Pop Cor
0,60
Banco Taglio
27,21
Caffe Classi
2,09
Caffe Classi
2,09
Arance Taroc
2,55
TOTALE
77,55
Contanti
100,00
Resto
22,45
N.Pezzi 50
Oper: 10
Cassa 1 1
Regalo Bollini: 15
Codice: Bollini
Arrivederci e Grazie!
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La Cantinetta
Enoteca
Ricrea di Morresi G. & C.
SNC Viale Europa 36
Porto Recanati
EURO
Vino 1 8,66
Vino 1 7,80
Vino 1 7,40
Vino 1 5,40
Vino 1 7,00
Vino 1 9,00
Vino 1 9,00
Vino 1 6,50
Vino 1 6,50
Vino 1 5,00
Vino 1 5,00
Vino 1 10,20
Vino 1 9,00
Vino 1 14,00
TOTALE 110,46
Grazie!
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Travel Diary of Jane Harris
Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine
&nb
sp; Jane Harris
The mayor said yes!!!!
It seemed touch and go there to me for a while, but Frau Schumacher totally came through for us! I couldn’t tell what she was saying to the big man behind the desk—a very intimidating desk, too, with lots of important looking documents all over it, for a very intimidating man, wearing a big green shiny sash over his track suit—but Cal later translated that basically, she said, “Marry these two delightful young people or I will make you sorry.”
Cal says he doesn’t know HOW Frau Schumacher was going to make him sorry, but the mayor apparently believed her enough to make a time in his schedule for Holly and Mark.
And OK, it’s super-early in the morning for a wedding— 9A .M.—but it’s better than nothing! Frau Schumacher was right about wedding breakfasts, I guess. That’s what they do here, instead of receptions.
Now all we have to do is drive to Rome tomorrow, get the form Holly and Mark need, and drive back.
At last, we can relax a little. We went grocery shopping for food for the rest of the week (and Cal and Mark hit the liquor store, this cute little shop called La Cantinetta in Porto Recanati. Frankly, I think 14 bottles of wine, champagne, J & B, and something called limoncello might be a bit much, but it IS a wedding, after all, even if it’s just four of us attending) and then came home and hit the pool right away. At least, Holly and Mark and Peter and I did. Cal got a call from his editor or somebody, so he’s sitting in the terrazza, yakking into his cell, saying things like, “But I said you’d have it next month. No, I never said that.”
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Sounds like somebody’s a little late on a project. Ha ha.
I got the skinny on Peter while we were in the mayor’s office, too. When we walked in, I was surprised to see a girl about Peter’s age sitting on the mayor’s desk, going “Papa” in the unmistakable wheedle of a teenaged daughter. She was a pretty little thing named Annika—all big blue eyes and blonde ringlets and knobby knees—and when she saw Peter, she completely forgot about whatever favor she was begging her father for. Her eyes narrowed in that mean way only teenaged girls’ eyes can, and she went, “What are you doing here?”