7:10 PM, August 5th, 2014
Adornetto’s Italian Restaurant, Zanesville
Mel had brought me out to what she declared was Zanesville’s best Italian restaurant to celebrate her election night victory.
It wasn’t a hard fought election. Once Noland Troutman was arrested and charged, he dropped out of the race to concentrate on his defense. The county commissioners had his name removed from all electronic voting machines. Some fools voting on punch card ballots in a couple of the county’s less voter rich precincts might still punch his name but Mel would be the evenings’ undisputed victor.
She beamed at me from across the table. “It’s so great to see you getting around without your crutches. How do you feel?”
I’d seen Doctor Welle in the afternoon while Mel was in court. “I feel pretty good. All the therapy this past month has certainly helped but I’ll still be pretty weak for a while until I’m used to bearing my own weight all the time again but, really, I’m not doing too badly.”
“Baby, that’s great! I’m so happy for you.”
“Mel, it’s your big night. Hell, you’ve had a big day! We’re here to celebrate you, not to talk about me.” I smiled at her in the candlelight across the table. “So, I’m dying to know; how’d it go in court today?”
Mel picked up my hand from the table and played with my fingers. I knew she was stalling.
“Mel, come on! Spill it!”
She grinned and finally gave in. “Kelly looks hideous in orange prison scrubs.”
I smiled at that too.
“She showed up and pled Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity, as I suspected she would.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Nor do I and she’ll have an even tougher time proving it than most.”
“Why is that?”
“Boswell Bates showed up for the preliminary hearing and, right after her plea, he recused himself as her lawyer. He told the judge he couldn’t in good conscious defend someone accused of election tampering and crimes against federal officials.”
“Didn’t you once tell me that Bates would defend anyone who could write him a big check?”
“That’s just it, Kelly is broke and there’s no one else to write any checks on her behalf.”
I sat back in my chair, stuffed. “Mel, that lasagna was amazing!”
“Oh, it’s not your Grandma Rossi’s but, in a pinch, it will do.” She smiled that beautiful grin that I love. “I hope you saved room for dessert?”
“I couldn’t possibly eat another bite!”
“But Dana, you’ll miss out on the new house specialty made and named just for you.”
I raised an eyebrow, “For me?”
A young woman in kitchen whites approached the table and placed a dish in front of each of us and then stood back. I looked at the plate. There was a rather largish version of what looked like a glazed Hostess pie that was also drizzled with chocolate. Fresh raspberries and mint adorned the plate.
“What is this?”
“It’s the Dana Rossi Fry Pie.” The young woman said as she stepped forward again.
My head shot up to her face. “Hannah! Oh my God, Hannah!” I tried to get up to hug her but, of course, at that moment, my leg failed me and I all but tumbled back into my chair.
Once she was sure I was okay, Hannah bent to hug me instead. “How are you Dana? I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too. We’ve both been so busy since...since...”
“Hannah shook her head. Let’s not even talk about that. It’s your big night.”
I smiled. “It’s not my big night. It’s Mel’s.”
Hannah pointed to the opposite side of my chair. Mel was down on one knee on the floor holding out a box with a huge, sparkling rock.
She smiled again so bright it lit up the room, “Dana, will you marry me?”