For three days she worked like a fiend to get the orders turned around as quickly as possible. The work kept her mind busy, thankfully, interrupting the relentless worry that her magic was somehow fading. She also avoided her shop when Jimmy was there working, which, interestingly didn’t seem to be all that often.
Nonna pulled a basket from her robe. “I see your store is coming along nicely. Just a few more improvements and you should be ready to open to the public.”
“Yep.”
The place was nearly perfect. The ornate tin ceiling with recessed lighting was installed, and the electrician, Lena’s third cousin Nick, had finished connecting all the display lights, spacing them perfectly around the showroom.
The shelves were up and the three separate areas, designed to allow all her customers to enjoy their shopping experience, had been partitioned by lovely half-walls. The wall separating the front display window from the rest of the store was made of glass, which meant there’d be considerable cleaning to remove nose and drool marks. There was a fitting area complete with dog toys and glass jars filled with a variety of homemade treats.
Lena loved all the little nooks created just high enough to keep curious dogs from absconding with tape measures, safety pins, and hat samples. Each one was a differing size and color.
In the actual show room wood burnings of several different big dogs decorated the walls and the four columns holding the ceiling up were tree trunks carved in the shapes of giant dogs standing on their hind legs. Those were all Jimmy’s ideas, little changes he’d made to the design.
There was very little left to do but add the furniture and finish the flooring and the moldings.
“Where’s the carpenter?”
Without looking up from her work Lena answered, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” She had no interest in what her grandmother was up to. She knew without a bit of question the woman had come to “poke the bear,” both figuratively and literally.
“Come now. You must care. You hired him—”
“I did not hire him. Dad hired him to work on the house and then suggested him for my job. I did not hire him.” Lena threw a spool of purple thread into the sewing box. It ping-ponged around the box, then shot back at her. A quick flick of her finger sent it back to its intended place. “Another reason not to trust him.”
Since this whole meatball disaster began she’d wondered if her father had purposefully had a hand in this match making matter. The idea was infuriating. She couldn’t trust a soul.
“As was my history I allowed Dad to find the workman for the job and then went along with the process. But no more. I’m the one calling the shots from now on.”
She looked up from a half-assembled sweatshirt and pinned her grandmother with an accusatory glare.
Nonna gave a slight nod. “As you wish, though, I wonder why you haven’t simply made the necessary improvements to the shop. If you don’t have any intention of seeing the carpenter again, you should use the gift of magic to finish this little job.”
“I did not say I had no intention of seeing him again. I simply do not care where he is at this point in time.” The moment Lena said the words she wished she hadn’t. The truth of the matter was she had a horrible urge to see Jimmy again, and she very much cared about where he was at that moment.
She’d wondered where he was and what he was doing from the exact second she teleported from her parents’ house. Any moment her thoughts were not occupied by anything that required a great deal of focus, she wondered about Jimmy.
Who was he with? Did he think of her? Did he like her? Would he actually like her if he had not been fed a love-poisoned meatball? Would he, a successful businessman, even notice her, a woman who until this very moment had not experienced any true success on her own without her family to help her? Would he care about that?
Every damn moment of Lena’s life had turned into a nightmare of wondering whether or not a man who had no choice but to like her would actually like her if he had a choice. It was like living in a psychological thriller.
Lena couldn’t look at her grandmother, the woman who’d put all this crap in motion under the guise of loving her family. She feared the anger she felt would burst out and she’d scream at Nonna for being an old meddling witch.
It pained her to be so angry with someone, who until only recently, she’d trusted implicitly. “I don’t need to care where he is now or ever.”
She hated to lie especially to Nonna, but she would be damned before she let anyone force her into a romance she did not control, or want, or chose. And if it took lying to someone she loved to make her point, so be it.
“Interesting you do not look at me when you say those words.” Nonna placed the basket on a counter across the room, then carefully removed her containers. “Let’s have lunch.”
“If you brought any piece of meat cooked in red sauce, you might just as well take it home.” Lena’s stomach growled, and she studied the containers, inhaling deeply to ascertain what Nonna was serving.
“No, I will not offer you a meatball, not again.” Nonna shook her head while waving her hand to set the table. “You have made it very clear. You do not want any help in the romance department. You do not want your grandmother muddling up your life and all its successes. I shall not overstep that boundary.”
“Does that mean you haven’t somehow created some love potion and hidden it in one of those containers?” Lena did not move from her seat in spite of being able to smell the fresh chopped basil atop a panzanella salad. When Nonna removed the lid from a bowl of hot pasta fagioli, steam rose along with the wonderful aroma of garlic, and Lena could see Nonna had used orechetti instead of elbows, an edit to the recipe made expressly for Lena.
“There is no magic potion, no magic spice, no plant, nothing in these bowls that will bewitch you into loving anyone you don’t already love.” Nonna scooped a ladle of pasta fagioli into a bowl.
“What’s in the third one?” Lena inched to the edge of her seat.
“Oh, this one. It’s just dessert.” She pulled the lid from the bowl and revealed one of Lena’s favorite sweets in the whole world.
Olive oil cake baked with Amarena cherries with sweet cream on the side.
Lena practically ran to the table.
The two women ate in silence. It was a strange, though comfortable change from their usual lunches where Nonna shared all the gossip from the magic community.
As her grandmother sliced a piece of cake for each of them Lena conjured two cups of espresso.
“Why did you come today, Nonna?”
It wasn’t that her grandmother was not welcome, for surely Lena would never turn down a visit from the only woman she loved as much as her mother. But, she had sent a clear message that Nonna’s match making gifts were not welcome in her life. Lena knew that must have hurt terribly.
“Lena, it is not unusual for me to visit you at work.” The tassel from Nonna’s hat swung to and fro when she tilted her head toward Lena.
“No, but we don’t often fight—”
“We are not fighting.” Again the tassel swished across the front of Nonna’s face. “I never fight with my children or grandchildren.”
Lena bit her cheek.
“I know what you’re thinking, but just because I might be loud on occasion does not mean I’m fighting. It means I’m making my point.”
“What does hitting people with wooden spoons mean?”
“That’s punctuation.” She sipped her espresso. “Let’s not worry about the way our family expresses itself. Let’s discuss this bear you are avoiding and don’t want to discuss.”
Lena opened her mouth to object but was promptly cut off by a swirl of pink that resulted in a cannoli sticking out of her mouth.
“Whether you eat the meatball or don’t will not change who your intended love is.” Nonna conjured a bottle of anisette and another steaming pot of espresso. “I tell you this so you stop running away from love. You’re only wasting time,
energy, nights alone when you could be wrapped in the arms of a handsome bear that most girls would pay to enjoy.”
Taking a bite from the cannoli kept Lena’s mouth too busy to respond, which in turn gave Nonna the opportunity to keep going.
“The meatball magic is very powerful. This is true. It has never gone wrong.” She shook her head. “Just as I did for my sons I have mixed and rolled, simmered and watched these meatballs from the time you were born. That spaghetti sauce has been cooking for nearly a hundred years. Those balls are perfect.” She paused, her eyes appearing a bit vacant, as though she was looking into the distance at some faraway pot of gravy.
“What do you mean it won’t change who my intended love is? You made a meatball for me and a mate-ball for my meatball. If we both eat the balls, we’re stuck together forever. That sounds to me like a meatball will decide my fate.”
“Eat your cannoli.”
The perfectly crunchy shell filled with creamy sweetened ricotta floated before Lena’s mouth. She grabbed it and took another bite.
“Listen to your nonna.” The espresso pot tilted and filled both cups. “Yes, I made the meatballs and the matching mate-balls, and yes, the people who eat them will be…let me quote you…’stuck together forever.’ However, and this is the point you must understand, and I must admit I’m quite shocked your brother understands and you do not. Sometimes, you really surprise me.”
Nonna appeared to study Lena as though she was perplexed at seeing her for the first time. She held the espresso cup, pinky raised, before her lips and stared through the rising steam, shaking her head ever so gently, but enough to make the tassel sway.
“Ralph isn’t as dumb as he pretends to be. He just does it so no one expects much of him. He is a warlock.” Lena finished the cannoli and reached for another piece of olive oil cake.
“Yes, this is true.” Nonna placed the cup on the table. “Listen, my little gnoccini, the mate-ball will not allow anyone to eat it who is not supposed to eat it. Do you understand? The mate-ball knows.” With one eye closed, she pointed at Lena. “At some point, and Goddess knows we all hope it’s soon, you will want to eat your meatball. When you do, the meatball magic will finally be released. That’s when you’ll finally experience the true love waiting at your fingertips.”
Lena’s shoulders drooped. “Do you hear what you’re saying? You just told me a meatball thinks for itself. Meatballs don’t have brains.”
“The meatball always knows.” Nonna tapped her temple with a bright red fingertip. “Listen to the meatball.”
Chapter Six
It was moments like these that made Lena wonder if Nonna had experimented on herself far too many times. Had she tested the gravy so many times she had spaghetti sauce in her brain?
“Only your true love would be drawn to the meatball. Only he would want to eat it. No other man would have any desire for that meatball. This is how it works. The mate-ball knows best.”
“If you’re so good at this meatball magic, why don’t you have a husband?” Lena asked.
Nonna laughed, but Lena noticed the way she didn’t make eye contact. “I do have a husband.”
“Why don’t you have one who stays and is madly in love with you?”
Nonna sat for a brief moment in silence, looking into the distance. Something in her expression caught Lena off guard. It was as though Nonna wondered the same thing, as though she searched for the answer.
“Ah, well, that’s a good question.” She poured the anisette into two pretty little liqueur glasses. “Your grandfather and I fell wildly, madly, passionately…oh, my did we have some great sex. You know one time—”
“Stop!” Lena held up two hands and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to know about that part.”
Nonna nodded. “Right. I can see how that might be awkward.”
“Just the part about why you’re not together, please.” Lena’s stomach was clenched into a knot so tightly bound she wondered if she’d be able to eat her cake.
“Well, we had a wonderful love affair, got married, had your father, then the twins, and then the next thing we knew we had three teenage warlocks to deal with, which is quite stressful and well, that’s when things happened. He…left…I guess you could say.”
“So he left. Just left you and the kids?” Lena had never heard the story of her grandparents’ marriage, but hearing that her grandfather was a deadbeat dad made her feel badly for Nonna and Dad.
“Well, yes and no. He had no choice but to leave because if he stayed, I was going to turn his ass into a chunk of cheese and leave him to mold on a shelf for eternity.” Nonna shook her head and sat back. “Your grandfather is one of the most annoying, funny, self-centered, handsome, irritatingly smart, thoughtful and thoughtless men to walk the earth. I really love that man.”
Lena leaned forward. “I do not understand how a matchmaker ends up in a bad marriage. It makes no sense. And, it does cause a girl to question the efficacy of the magic.” Lena squinted and ducked, waiting for a potential swat from a magically appearing wooden spoon.
Nonna knocked back the shot of anisette. “Aaah. So good.” She poured another. “You know ‘doctor, heal thyself’ never works. Besides, I had no idea at that time I was a matchmaker. I thought I was intended to be a sculptress.”
Nonna loved to carve marble and work with stone. It was a hobby she’d enjoyed for nearly a century and a half. Her work decorated the lawn, smaller pieces were kept in the house. There’d even been an exhibit or two at some museum in Spain.
“I’ll tell you another secret.”
Lena perked up.
“Your grandfather was caught with Renalta Maria Sandra Palomino. That bitch. That’s why he had to leave.”
“No!”
“Yes. You see Giacomo Senior…foolishly, I named your father after his father. I knew better, but I was in love. What can I say? I was young.” She sipped the anisette. “Anyway, he is a warlock and they are not known for their fidelity.”
This was a well-known truth, which made many of them absolute menaces. They liked to chase women and quite often were very romantic, which made it difficult to resist one. A girl had to be on her guard or risk losing her heart to the likes of Ralph.
“You caught him in the act?” Lena asked.
“I caught them together. He denied it. Of course.” Her eyes widened. “They always do. You can imagine how poorly I reacted. Well, I was young and had three teenage boys whom I absolutely did not want influenced by that sort of behavior. Unfortunately, only one of them has turned out much better than their father. Mio figlio bello, your father, my beautiful son, such a good boy.”
She did have a point. Dad was reliable and family-oriented and a wonderful man. He was certainly a lot better than his brothers who never came around, never attended family gatherings, holidays, nothing. Lena had seen them only once in her entire life.
“So was that the last time you saw Giacomo?” Lena had never met her grandfather.
“Oh, no. I see him every day.” Nonna laughed, then hiccupped and took another sip of the anisette. “This is so good. It’s going right to my head. I wonder if I should have eaten more.” She held up the glass and hiccupped again.
“What? When? How?” It seemed impossible for Nonna to see a man she cursed most days.
Still holding the liqueur glass, Nonna pointed a finger at Lena. “That statue in the backyard, the one of the man running from the bear, do you know the one?”
“Yeah, of course.” It was hard not to know it. The statue was ten feet in height and easily as wide. The man had a terrified (and rightfully so) expression on his face while the bear appeared amused. Lena and Ralph always marveled at the piece, drawn to play around it and climb up it, wondering where Nonna got her sense of humor.
“That man is your grandfather.” She laughed. “And I’m the bear. I should have carved myself standing atop a squashed Renalta.”
Lena shook her head. “That doesn’t surprise me.” S
he’d always thought the bear had a familiar look around the eyes.
“I love that statue. It’s my best work. I really feel Giacomo when I’m with it. It’s almost like he’s right there with me.” She hiccupped again. “Oh, dear. Well, I do need to be off to school. It’s graduation night and I’m giving a speech.” She raised her arms, causing her psychedelic gown to fan out in a colorful ripple. “You know I love to lecture.”
“Yes.” That was an understatement.
“Okay, well, you have your assignment.” She pulled Lena into a tight hug and kissed both her cheeks before swaying to the right a bit and giggling. “Eat the meatball, find the bear, and do what needs to be done.” She winked. “It’s always nice to start a lunar cycle in love.”
The scent of slow cooking meat wafted, and faintly Lena heard the sound of a simmering pot. Glancing past Nonna, she saw a mini pot sitting atop a table in the corner. “You never quit, do you?”
Nonna smiled. “Eat the meatball.”
As if some sort of war was being fought inside her Lena felt an instinctual urge to argue and another to stuff the entire meatball into her mouth at once. Somehow she managed to remain where she stood and keep eye contact with her tipsy grandmother.
“I have work to do. I’m building a career, remember?”
“Okay, play hard to get for the evening. But remember, a bear will do anything for his honey and every man loves the chase.” With a final cackle she disappeared in a puff of psychedelic smoke.
Lena sighed and turned back to the nearly complete costumes waiting for finishing touches. She’d hardly walked two steps when loud crackling sounds came from behind the counter.
“Good Goddess, now what?”
No sooner had she turned around than two men, looking exactly alike and not much different from her father appeared. They wore dark blue silk suits with thin sparkling white pin stripes. One had a red tie and matching red shirt. The other wore a matching eggplant tie and shirt.
Magic and Mayhem: Secrets, Lies, and Meatballs (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Spaghetti Romances Book 2) Page 4
