Better Than Your Dreams

by Dee Ernst

  Suzi burst into tears. Carmella and Enza hugged her as she sobbed.

  “Really?” Lily said. She looked at Suzi in disgust. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “That damn woman cries at everything,” then grabbed Vinnie’s arm and dragged him into the dining room.

  It had gotten cold enough that we were all glad to be back inside.

  I sat next to Aunt Lily, of course. The table was odd. We all sat on the same side, rather Last Supperish. I would have liked to have been a bit closer to Alex, but Trev sat on my other side, and he kept a running commentary about the food, all of which was delicious. Joe DeMatriano was not a very bubbly or boisterous guy, but Vinnie had lot to say, and with Lily doing counterpoint, it was quite a show. In between listening to Aunt Lily and trying not to listen to Aunt Lily, I played the if-this-were-my-rehearsal-dinner game. I’d definitely serve the fish. I wouldn’t bother with three different wines. Absolutely change the music. But I had blown the chance at any rehearsal dinner of my own. I shrank back in my seat a bit more and went back to being a spectator.

  This was a very different kind of rehearsal dinner from David and Miranda’s. For one thing, my emotions weren’t open and bleeding like raw meat. For another, this family was…well, loud. Not angry loud, but there were a lot of opinions expressed in raised voices, accompanied by hand gestures and exaggerated eye rolling. Despite the constant interrupting, everyone had a chance to put in their two cents’ worth.

  Vinnie’s grandchildren ranged in age from sixteen to twenty-something, and were all very well behaved. They did not have cell phones on the table to be checked every thirty seconds, and they listened to the conversations with apparent interest. Lily knew them all by name, and they seemed enchanted with her.

  Vinnie’s daughters were a bit more reserved around Lily. I could understand that, but surely by now they knew that she had a very tidy sum all her own that she had invested nicely, and it was more than enough to keep her in pin money until 2023. Maybe they just realized that Lily would now be whirling through their family occasions like a dervish. I was beginning to think that Vinnie DeMatriano’s becoming a member of my family was actually the better end of the deal.

  Alex finally put the camera down to eat. The rest of us were finishing the coffee and cake, so he nudged Trev out of his seat so he could sit by me with a plate of pasta. I glanced at Carmella, who was watching us with interest. Was this a setup?

  “What happens next?” I asked him. “The Tarantella? A few arias from Carmen? Does the ghost of Frank Sinatra croon a few numbers?”

  He shook his head. “No, I think they’ll all go back to Brooklyn. I’m sure there will be a line of black cars heading west, like a funeral procession.”

  “Your nephew is a delight, by the way.”

  “Trev? Yeah, he’s a good kid. Paulie is the real pip, though. Try to get him talking at the wedding. Very shy, but once he opens up, he’s a treat. It’s late. Do you want to head to Bay Ridge, or should I take you home?”

  I was surprised. “Bay Ridge?”

  Lily, on the other side, leaned in. “Yes, Mona, why don’t you come back with us? I’m sure we can get somebody to take you home tomorrow. You can get to know all the girls better, and if we’re lucky, Joe will start telling stories about the good old days.”

  “You know,” I said slowly, “that sounds really fun. But I should probably get back to Jersey. There are still lots of things to be done.”

  Vinnie nudged Carmella. “She could stay with you, no?”

  Carmella smiled brightly. “Of course. What do you say, Mona?”

  What could I say? Did I really want to insult a single person at this table? No. Did I want anyone to think I was not perfectly comfortable around a man whose face was in every FBI office in the country? Of course not.

  Alex cleared his throat. “Actually, Mona and I were going for a drink. Uptown. We thought we’d take in a little jazz.”

  I turned gratefully to Alex, who smiled innocently.

  “Well,” Carmella said, her perfect eyebrows disappearing under her bangs, “have fun, you two.”

  Alex stood. “I’ll get the car.”

  I stood with him. “No, I’ll walk with you.”

  We said our good-byes. Everyone seemed very happy for us. Lily, as she kissed my cheek, whispered to me, “Really?” She was one sharp old lady.

  I followed Alex back down the long hallway and outside. Once the door was closed behind us, I let a nervous giggle escape. “Thanks, Alex. I was feeling a little uncomfortable there.”

  He nodded and tucked my arm into his. “That’s what I figured. But I do know a great little jazz place uptown. What do you think?”

  What did I think? Hmmm. I had not seen Ben since the kids’ wedding. For all I knew, he and Carmella had been canoodling under bearskin rugs up in the wilds of Maine. And here was an attractive man asking me to have a drink and listen to some jazz, two of my favorite things to do.

  “That sounds lovely. Thanks.”

  We got into his car and started up Broadway

  “That was quite a nice time,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am.”

  “Vinnie really did try to make life for his family as normal as possible,” Alex said. “Mike, my brother, had a degree in business. He didn’t have to join the family, but he was like me, in a way—craving danger and excitement. He thought the whole thing was a game. Stupid mistake on his part. When he was killed, Vinnie pulled out of everything and sent his daughters and their families as far away as he could. Carmella went back to Brooklyn when her mother died—to be near him, of course—but none of those kids have followed in Joe’s footsteps. Vinnie would never allow it. So they really are just like any other Italian-American family—very close, and crazy when it comes to food and wine.”

  “That sounds like my family.”

  “See? We’re all pretty much the same.”

  “Joe isn’t.”

  “You’re right there.”

  He found a space to park on a side street, and we walked to a tiny club with an excellent trio and equally excellent martinis. We did not talk much, mostly because the music was so good. When we did talk, it was about jazz and old movies. He loved old movies. So did I. That was enough to carry the night.

  We drove back to Jersey in silence. As he turned the corner onto my street, I got a quiver of butterflies. Would he ask to come in? Would I say yes?

  He stopped the car, threw it into park, and turned in the seat, facing me. “See you Saturday,” he said.

  He was very close. I could feel that quiver again, but I opened the car door and smiled. “Saturday.”

  Then I slammed the door behind me and went into the house alone.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CARMELLA ARRIVED VERY EARLY ON Friday morning. I was awake, drinking my first cup of coffee and talking to Lana. Lana always listened to me as though she were fascinated by every single word, but I knew she was just waiting for me to turn my back so she could put tiny paw prints all over my shiny granite countertops. I had never caught her in the act, but I had often heard the thump of her landing on the floor as I approached. She was one sly cat.

  Fred started barking, and I could see strange men carrying rolled-up tents walking past my kitchen window. I wandered out to watch.

  In addition to the tents, they carried in a portable dance floor, and a small army of young girls started draping white fabric around the inside walls of my garage. I had arranged to park in MarshaMarsha’s driveway for the festivities, leaving Carmella plenty of space to work her magic.

  Suzi and Enza soon joined Carmella, and the three of them pointed, shouted, and argued all morning. I sat on my deck, drank more coffee, smiled, and waved.

  Before lunchtime, I took off to pick up Grace at Newark airport. Her plane was due in at 12:47 p.m., and was on time. I sat on the stairs outside of the security area, waiting for her. And waiting.

  At 1:15 p.m. she still had not appeared.

  She d
idn’t have a cell phone, and I wouldn’t be permitted past the screening area, so I couldn’t go to her gate and track her down. I waited some more, looked at Pinterest on my phone, and tried not to get too worried.

  She finally wandered into sight, her hair slightly disheveled, a loopy smile on her face, pulling her carry-on behind her.

  I ran over and gave her a hug. “Grace, are you okay? How was your flight?”

  I looked into her eyes. She was obviously stoned out of her mind.

  “Bumpy,” she said at last. “We went through a storm, and there was lightning. Everywhere. And they won’t serve you alcohol during the bumpy parts. Or during landing.”

  We walked slowly to the escalator and through the parking garage. “No, they won’t. But did you have a drink before the storm hit?”

  “I had three. Straight vodka,” she said. “And a Xanax. And I smoked a joint before I even got on the plane. It didn’t help.”

  Poor Grace! I knew she hadn’t flown in years, but I always thought it was in protest of one thing or another. I never realized she was afraid of flying. “Well, you’re on solid ground now, Grace. You’re fine. You should have tried to sleep. It always makes the time go faster.”

  “No, Mona, I couldn’t sleep,” she said very seriously. “If I had stopped praying, the plane would have crashed to the ground.”

  “Grace, you were praying to God? I didn’t think you believed in God.”

  “I prayed to Him. And Allah. And Zeus. I prayed to everyone.”

  I threw her suitcase in the trunk and got in the car. Her hands were clenching the dashboard, her entire body braced for impact. “Grace, you’re not on the plane anymore,” I told her gently.

  She nodded and sat back. “I don’t suppose you have any of those little bottles of vodka here, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. Sorry.”

  She nodded. “I’d take another Xanax, but I need to save them for the flight home.” She closed her eyes and was asleep in three minutes.

  When I got back, Jessica had joined the party and was helping to set up chairs. She saw me and ran over to the car. She opened Grace’s door.

  “She’s asleep?”

  “We’ll go with that for now. Let her alone. How are things here?”

  “Nina and Pinta have returned to Brooklyn. Aunt Lily has arrived and taken back the third floor. A bunch of food got delivered for lunch if you’re hungry. And Dominique is here. She was looking for you, but is now Carmella’s best friend. Was Daddy really staying here?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Can you take Grace’s suitcase upstairs? I’ll find Carmella.”

  My backyard had been transformed. A white arbor had been set up at the far end of the yard, and against the backdrop of yellow forsythia, it looked lovely. Port-A-Potties arrived, looking like tiny Victorian garden sheds, and were tucked behind the garage. Workers had squeezed the dance floor between the deck and the patio, and had scattered small tables everywhere. There was another tented area along the back, with more small tables and chairs for sitting and eating, as well as a long table for the wedding party and other VIPs. Carmella really knew her stuff, and her army had accomplished a miracle.

  Carmella and Dominique were standing by the arbor in deep conversation. They were so different—Carmella tall, dark, and statuesque, Dominique tiny, blond, and almost sticklike, even if she was still in her stuffed-sausage stage. As I approached, Carmella was flailing her arms around, and Dominique was nodding furiously.

  “What’s up, ladies?” I asked.

  Carmella grinned. “It looks like I have a business partner.”

  I stared at her, then at Dominique. “What?”

  Dominique actually hugged me. “Isn’t it marvelous? Carmella is going to expand her wedding planning out to Jersey, and I’m going to set things up for her and run the office here.”

  “Well, that makes sense, Dominique. You are the best organizer I’ve ever seen at this kind of thing, and Carmella, you’ve done wonders here. This is just beautiful. I wouldn’t have believed it.”

  She tried to look modest. “Well, you had the perfect space. I usually don’t get such a big and beautiful yard to work with.” Something caught her eye, and she hurried off.

  Dominique cleared her throat. “Thanks for giving Brian a place to stay.”

  I sighed. “I’m so sorry, Dominique. I had hoped that you and Tyler would be enough for him.”

  “Nothing will be enough for him,” she said quietly. “But now I can leave that ridiculous house and find someplace for just Tyler and me. And I have a new career.”

  “You and Carmella are going to be quite a pair. You complement each other. But I think you should bring back that accent of yours. Add a touch of class?”

  “Yes,” she agreed with a grin. “I’ll do that.”

  “Is Tyler with Phyllis? Why don’t you stay? It looks like we’ll be having one heck of a girls’ night here, and you’ll fit right in.”

  She smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Mona.” She took a deep breath. “I really loved Brian,” she said.

  I didn’t quite know what to say, so I just nodded.

  “And he told me that his marriage to you was over,” she went on. “I didn’t know what he’d done to you. I didn’t realize I was tearing apart a happy marriage.”

  I looked at her. “Dominique, you and I will never be friends. Not really. But I’m starting to like you, so I’ll tell you the truth. You didn’t tear apart a happy marriage. I thought that’s what it was, but I’d been deluding myself for a long time before you came along. You can’t tear apart something that’s not badly broken to begin with.”

  We headed back toward the house. I saw that Miranda and Lauren were walking Grace through the maze of chairs. Lauren had taken the train to Boston and driven down with the newlyweds. They must have just arrived. Grace was rather unsteady on her feet, and as I got close enough I could hear her saying over and over again, “Bumpy, bumpy, bumpy.”

  Miranda held the chair as Grace sat down. “Mom, maybe we should get her a drink?”

  “God, no. She’s already toasted.” I knelt down and tried to make eye contact. “Grace, honey, would you like to lie down?”

  “Bumpy,” she whispered.

  I looked up at Lauren and Miranda. “I don’t know how we’ll ever get her on the plane going back. We may have to make an illegal drug run somewhere.”

  I stood up and gave Miranda a big hug. Although we talked all the time, I had not seen her since her wedding. “How’s married life, my sweet?”

  “It’s the best thing ever.”

  “I’m beginning to think that with the right person, it can be. Grace, how about coming into the house?”

  Grace nodded, and we walked her inside. She turned toward the den, went straight for the couch, then sat. She closed her eyes and leaned back.

  “Aunt Grace,” Lauren asked, “can I get you something to drink?”

  Grace’s eyes flew open. “Wine?”

  “How about a nice cup of tea,” I said quickly. “With honey?”

  She nodded and closed her eyes again.

  Jessica appeared and sat at the counter. Miranda got down the mugs as I set the kettle to boil. Lauren found the honey and sliced a lemon. There was food on the counter in foil containers, remnants of lunch, and I grabbed a sandwich. Miranda and Lauren helped themselves to a few of the salads. Jess had taken a sandwich and was picking it apart very carefully, separating the bread from the meats, and eating in very small bites.

  “So, Mom,” Miranda said, “David mentioned that Carmella had been up to visit Ben.”

  I focused on the kettle. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. How could you let that happen?”

  “How could I stop it?” I said shortly. I checked the heat. The gas flame was on high.

  “I don’t get it,” Lauren said. “You spent a year and a half doing everything you could to be together, and as soon as you were back, you guys called it quits. What happened?”

  “It’s c
omplicated,” I told her. What was with this water? How long did it take to bring a kettle of water to boil?

  “So we’re all grown up now, Mom,” Jess said. “Explain it to us. Because I thought that you and Ben were great together.”

  “We were.” At last, steam. I removed the kettle and poured the boiling water into my favorite teapot, breathing in the scent of Earl Grey. I waited.

  “So?” Lauren prompted.

  “Ben felt that we needed to be married. I didn’t. End of story.” I poured the tea into four mugs, hovering over the fifth. “Do you think she’ll even drink it?”

  Jessica shook her head. “She’s out. What was that about, anyway?”

  “I guess she’s afraid to fly. She loaded up on false courage.” I took a sip of tea, closing my eyes, feeling a warm trickle down my throat. When I opened my eyes, my daughters were all staring at me.

  “Are you happier without him, Mom?” Lauren asked.

  Interesting question. With an obvious answer. I shrugged. “You make your own happiness, Lauren.”

  “Sometimes,” Miranda said slowly, “it’s given to you. I don’t think that Daddy ever made you happy. Not the way he should have. Not the way David makes me happy.”

  I leaned forward, curious. “And how does he do that, Miranda?”

  She looked into her tea. Jess and Lauren were watching her as well, all of us waiting. What words of wisdom could this new bride possibly offer?

  “Well, it’s like, your family has to love you. At least, good families. Like ours. I know that no matter what I do, even if it’s something really stupid, you guys will never let me down. You will always love me. Right?”

  I nodded. I felt my throat tighten.

  “Right. And the world is this big, scary place. We don’t know what’s going to happen next. The only thing you can count on, really, is your family. But when you marry somebody, well, you’ve got that person too. And that person chose you. The world is still scary, but now there’s someone in your life who wants to take your hand and go into the great unknown with you. And even though you guys will always be there for me, it’s David who’s stepped up to say, ‘Hey, from now on, you’re with me. We’re in this together.’” She looked around. “We’ve chosen each other. That’s my happiness.”