Just Desserts

by Kandle, Tawdra

  “No, that was kind of her point. That even after dating you for that long, she doesn’t feel like she knows the real you.”

  “She’s probably right.” He sounded thoughtful. “It’s not like we spent long hours talking. Okay, so what do you want to know about me?”

  I laughed. “That’s not how it works. You get to know people by spending time with them, having real conversations, listening to each other.”

  “In which case, you know me better than Julia. She and I didn’t have many conversations that didn’t end in us fighting.”

  “That’s true. Well, what do you know about me?”

  He smiled, one of his rare sweet genuine smiles. “I know you’re very focused on your future, and you’re ambitious. I know you’re compassionate and kind, even when people make you impatient. I know your favorite color is blue, and you love Frank Sinatra.”

  I cocked one eyebrow in surprise. “How do you know that? About Frank?”

  “I looked at your ‘most played songs’ play list on your phone. Lots of Ol’ Blue Eyes.”

  I lifted my shoulder. “I know it’s not cool, but what can I say? He’s Italian, he’s a Jersey boy, and his music ...” I sighed. “It makes me swoon.”

  “I was hoping that was the case.” He leaned forward and pushed a button on the sound system. Immediately the car was flooded with music as Frank sang about flying to the moon.

  I squealed my seldom-heard fan-girl cry. “How did you do that?”

  “Made a play list of Sinatra and downloaded it to my system here. It’s under ‘Ava’.”

  “Liam.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “I don’t know what to say. This is wonderful.”

  His hand gripped mine a little tighter. “I’m glad you like it. You know, it’s rumored that Frank’s one great love was Ava Gardner. She kept him waiting, too. Made him work for her.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? Making you work for me?”

  His voice was barely above a whisper. “I hope so.”

  I closed my eyes, listening to the music, and sighed. “So this proves you know me. But I’m not sure it works the other way. If someone asked me to make a play list for you, I’m not sure I could.”

  Liam nodded. “Want to know a secret? I’m not sure you’ll believe me, but Frank would be on my list, too. My mom’s father ... he passed away when I was sixteen. But I used to go spend summers with him, and he played Sinatra all the time. All the big band music, really. And we would watch the old movies, too. Have you ever seen High Society, with Frank and Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly?”

  “And Satchmo!” I grinned. “I used to watch those with my dad. So we’ve got Sinatra in common. A love for old movies and big band music. And I think your favorite color is ...” I cast my eyes up, thinking. “Green.”

  “You’re right. How did you know?”

  “It was a total guess. Guys are hard to figure out, but the comforter on your bed is green, so I went with it.”

  “Okay. See? You know me pretty well.”

  “Uh-huh. So what’s going on with your parents?”

  He sucked in a quick breath. “What are you talking about?”

  “Every time you mention your mom and dad, you get a look on your face. And they haven’t been down to see you lately, even though I remember when you were dating Jules, they were here a lot. So what’s going on?”

  “It’s ... complicated.”

  I shook my head. “That’s the word you use every tine you don’t want to talk about something. If you want to tell me it’s none of my business, that’s fine.”

  He sighed. “No. I’m just not sure myself about who my mom and dad are anymore. It’s hard to explain to someone else. I always thought I knew my parents pretty well. I didn’t like what they did or said all the time, but I never thought ... that there were things they were hiding. And now it feels like everything is a lie, everything they told me and taught me. I can’t trust them.”

  “I’m sorry.” I released his hand to run my fingers up his forearm. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. My mom and dad make me crazy, but we’re not the type of people to have any secrets.”

  “I didn’t think we were, either. I was wrong.” He paused. “And then there’s the whole politics thing. When you asked me that night why I was going into something I didn’t want, it opened my mind. I want to do something else. But they won’t hear it. Or me.”

  “Maybe if you have a good plan about what you want to do, they’ll understand.” I felt the muscles in his arm tense beneath my touch. “I’m always around if you need someone to talk to about it.”

  “Thanks.” He took a deep breath. “Ava, I never want to tell you not to touch me, because, God, when you do ... but if you keep doing what you’re doing right now, I’m going to have to pull over. And I’m not sure we’ll make it to your parents’ house.”

  I froze, my hand in mid-stroke. And then I moved it back to my own lap, carefully. “Sorry.”

  He looked over at me ruefully. “Never apologize. Not for that.”

  THE ARRIVAL AT my house was anticlimactic, because everyone was at the restaurant. I unlocked the front door and led Liam inside.

  I had never been to his house, of course, but I’d seen Julia’s pictures, and I could imagine. So I found myself trying to excuse the cozy house where I’d been raised.

  “Ava.” Liam laid a hand on my shoulder. “Stop. The house is great.” He lifted our two bags. “Where do you want me to take these?”

  “Follow me.” I led him up the narrow staircase to the second floor, where three bedrooms and a bath crowded around the hall. “You’ll be here in my room.” I pointed to the closed door, and Liam looked at me with a surprised smile and raised eyebrows.

  “Frank really did the trick, didn’t he?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, you goof. You’re sleeping in my room, but I’m not. I’m going to sleep with Frankie.” I leaned around him and opened my bedroom door.

  Liam glanced around the room that had been mine from birth until I left for college. A few photos were still hanging up, along with the academic awards and ribbons I’d earned.

  “Nice.” He set down his bag. “Now who the hell is Frankie?”

  “Hmm?” I looked up at him, frowning.

  “You said you’re sleeping with Frankie. You told me your brothers are Carl and Vince. So unless your dog Frankie has his own room ... I need an explanation. If I can’t sleep with you, why can Frankie?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I forgot I hadn’t told you ... Frankie is my niece. She’s Antonia’s daughter.”

  “I thought Antonia ...” He didn’t finish the thought.

  “Yes, you’re right. Um, it’s complicated, as you would say.”

  When he tilted his head, I sighed. “Antonia got pregnant when she was a junior in high school. It was ... a big deal in my family. I know for most people, having a baby without being married isn’t the end of the world now, but for us, it was. My parents were devastated. Antonia was smart. Like, much more so than me. She probably could have gone to any college she wanted, on a full scholarship. But she was fun, too—she could hang out with her friends, go to parties and still get a hundred on a test the next day.”

  “What about the baby’s father?”

  I made a face. “He was guy she had been dating for a long time. But when she got pregnant, he dumped her. I guess his parents offered to help out with some of the costs, but my parents refused. They made him relinquish his paternal rights after Antonia died, so they have full custody of Frankie.”

  Liam rubbed my back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, I meant to say something. You’ll meet her tonight at the restaurant.”

  I took my bag and tossed it into Frankie’s tiny room, and then offered Liam my hand.

  “Are you ready to face the music? Time to meet my family.”

  SATURDAY NIGHT AT Cucina Felice meant a parking lot overflowing with cars and lines out the door. I felt a sense of satis
faction and pride as we pulled in.

  “Drive around back. There’s a family section fenced off for us to park.” When Liam pulled up to the gate, I jumped out to type in the code that hadn’t changed since I was a child.

  We locked the car, and I made my way back out, slipping between the edge of the fence and the hedge. Liam held my hand, his fingers rubbing against the back of my knuckles in such a way that I knew he was nervous.

  “What does the name mean? Cucina Felice ... it’s kitchen something, right?”

  I nodded. “Happy Kitchen. My grandmother always says a happy kitchen is the heart of the family, and she had so much family, she had to open a restaurant to have a big enough heart.”

  I could have taken him in the back door, but I had enough pride in what my family had accomplished to want to show off a little. We crossed the green lawn and climbed the steps to the porch. A few people called my name in greeting, and I waved.

  “Friends of yours?” Liam leaned to whisper in my ear.

  I smiled. “Small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

  Angela, who was shortly to be my new sister-in-law, was working the hostess stand. She was talking to a tiny white-haired lady as we came up.

  “Yes, Mrs. Collini, the cake is all set. We’ll bring it out right after the coffee is served.”

  “All right, but not before. I want it to surprise Mr. Collini, but I don’t want the cake sitting on the table while we wait for coffee.”

  Angela smiled. “No, ma’am. I’ve reminded your server. You can just relax and enjoy your special evening.”

  Mollified, the lady tottered back to her table, and Angela turned to us, still wearing her professional smile, which widened to a grin.

  “Ava! Oh, thank God you’re here. I was so worried about your dress, all the other girls have theirs done and already back at home with them, and I was thinking ...” She glanced behind me and got an eyeful of Liam. Her mouth fell open.

  “Ange, this is my friend Liam. Liam, this is Angela—”

  The rest of my words were lost in her shriek. “Oh my God, Ava, you brought home a boy!”

  Every head in the restaurant turned to us. There were mostly smiles, along with a few smirks and snickers, from people who had known me most of my life.

  Liam handled the whole thing like a pro. He returned Angela’s hug and nodded to whatever questions she was shooting at him. I tried to pull him away, but she wouldn’t let go.

  Across the restaurant, standing right outside the kitchen, I spotted my mother. She was standing against the wall, watching the whole debacle with a smile on her face. I recognized that smile. It was the same expression she wore when she’d been proved right in some argument with me. And it all clicked.

  “Angela, we’ll talk to you later. We need to go say hello to Ma and the boys. And is Daddy here, too?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the kitchen tonight. Everyone’s in the kitchen, we’re slammed.”

  I patted her arm and dragged Liam into the dining room, trying to ignore the knowing smiles from the patrons.

  “I’m sorry about that.” I had to almost shout to be heard.

  “Why? She’s great.” Liam spoke into my ear.

  I shook my head as we reached Ma. She hadn’t moved.

  “Okay, Ma, well-played.”

  My mother raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “What on earth do you mean, Ava?”

  “Angela! I know you heard her, because I’m pretty sure everyone in the tri-state area heard her. You didn’t tell her not to make a fuss.”

  She smiled again. “You didn’t mention Angela. You said I shouldn’t make a fuss, and I should tell the boys, too. I did. You never mentioned Angela.”

  And this was why my mother would always be my hero.

  “Ma, this is my friend Liam. Liam, this is my mother, Francesca DiMartino.”

  Liam offered his hand. “Mrs. DiMartino, thank you for your hospitality. You have a lovely home, and your restaurant—”

  Before he could finish, Ma had disregarded his hand and pulled him into a hug. “Liam, welcome! So glad you’re here. Come, we’ve got a little table for you and Ava Catarine. We’ll bring food.”

  She hauled him over to a corner table for two, while I trailed in their wake. Liam sat down, as my mother shook out the linen napkin and laid it on his lap. I dropped into the other chair and got my own napkin.

  “Now, tonight our special is the cioppino. You like seafood, don’t you?”

  Liam nodded.

  “Excellent. We’ll start with a salad and then gnocchi with marinara, because no one leaves Cucina Felice without sampling my husband’s marinara. I’ll send one of the girls over with some bread and olive oil.”

  “Hey, Ma? Remember me, your daughter?”

  My mother spared me a look. “Ava, behave. You have a guest. We want him to feel welcome.”

  “Fine. Oh, and I’m glad you’re not fussing, by the way. Is Frankie here?”

  Ma nodded. “Of course. She’s back in the kitchen, coloring. I’ll send her out.”

  When my mother finally left us alone, I leaned forward to apologize again to Liam. A tall shadow fell across the table.

  “Ava, thank God you came home. Angela and Ma were making me crazy over that dress.” Carl set a basket of bread on the table. He spoke to me, but I noticed his eyes kept darting to Liam.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long. School’s been really busy. Carl, this is my friend Liam. Liam, my brother Carl.”

  Carl held it together admirably, shaking Liam’s hand as though I brought a guy home every weekend. I was pretty sure I was the only one who noticed my brother’s lips twitching as he surreptitiously checked him out.

  “Okay, I gotta get back in the kitchen before Ma pitches a tizzy. Enjoy.” He gave us a nod before he turned.

  “I like him.” Liam smiled as he broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in the olive oil.

  “Yeah, he’s terrific. I’m sorry about how crazy—”

  “Auntie Ave!”

  I was hit on the side by a miniature tornado of energy. Laughing, I reached down to scoop her up.

  “Francesca! You’ve grown a foot! Are you driving yet?”

  She giggled, scrambling onto my lap. “No, I can’t drive, I’m only little. But Nonna let me roll the gnocchi tonight and she said I did it even better than you.”

  I grimaced. “Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but that doesn’t take much.”

  She laughed again, snuggling against my chest in a way that always gave me a pang. She was a child who was so loved, so treasured, and yet she didn’t remember her own mother. I rubbed my cheek against her silky black hair. When I glanced up, Liam was watching me, an odd look on his face.

  “Frankie, I want you to meet my friend Liam. He came up from college with me. Liam, this little terror is Frankie.”

  He leaned over to grin into her face. “Nice to meet you, Miss Frankie.”

  She blushed and rolled her eyes up to me. I sighed. Liam’s effect on females obviously knew no age boundaries.

  “Frankie, you need to go back to the kitchen. Nonna says.”

  My brother Vince was carrying a tray of salads. He set two on our table, and I performed the introductions yet again. Vince didn’t say much; he nodded, shook hands and then walked away.

  “Is that everyone?” Liam asked, as he stabbed lettuce from his salad.

  “Just Daddy. But you don’t have to worry about him. He’s very chill.”

  The food kept coming, and by the time the cioppino was set in front of us, Liam shook his head.

  “I don’t know if I can eat another bite.” He had to yell to be heard, as the noise level had continued to amp up.

  “What, no dessert?” I teased. “You’re going to break my mother’s heart.”

  Liam shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “The only dessert I could manage isn’t on the menu. And I’m pretty sure it’s not something I can enjoy in front of your family.”

  My face grew w
arm. “You’re right about that.” I picked up our plates. “We’ll take it home and have it later. Wait here, and I’ll get this wrapped. Then we can go back to the house. They probably need this table, anyway.”

  I carried the plates into the kitchen as quietly as I could, hoping to get past my mother without being seen. No such luck.

  “Ava, did he not like his food?” She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared me down. “And Vince made a rum cake. I was just about to cut you some and bring it out.”

  “No, Ma, it was wonderful, but you sent out so much, we were full before the main course came. I’m going to wrap it up and we’ll take it home. Can you box up the cake, too?”

  “Are you leaving?” The rise in her voice told me this might be a problem.

  “Yeah, Ma. It’s crowded here, and I’m tired. I just want to go be in the quiet.”

  “So you’re taking that boy to the house while no one else is there?”

  I bit back a smile. He had gone from being The Boy Ava Brought Home to That Boy. Feelings ran like quicksilver in my family.

  “I’m going to the house. Liam is coming with me. If it’ll make you feel better, we can take Frankie home, too, and put her to bed. Just to help you out.”

  My mother pursed her lips and probably would have said a lot more if a gentle voice hadn’t cut across both of us.

  “Francesca, leave the girl alone. She’s a smart one, she’s got a good head.”

  “Daddy!” I hugged my father, inhaling his unique aroma of tomatoes, light cologne and the faintest tinge of the pipe my mother pretended he never smoked.

  “I was just out in the dining room and met your friend. Seems like a nice boy. I know of his father.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “Okay. I’m sorry we didn’t see you before. It’s been bedlam out there.”

  My father smiled and held out his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Saturday night. So you go on home, get some rest. We’ll all talk tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

  “Anthony, but she’s going home to be alone in the house. With a boy.”

  “Frannie.” Daddy turned and laid his hands on my mother’s shoulders. “She’s a grown-up. She lives away from home. What she’s going to do, she’s going to do.” He turned back to me. “But it would help us and set your mother’s mind at ease if you took Frankie. Thanks for offering.”