THE WOMAN WHO ANSWERED Terelli’s front door looked like a haunted has-been from a Saturday afternoon horror reel. Ash-tipped cigarette in hand, dark circles around bloodshot eyes, pupils soaked with alcohol and other, darker vices.
“Are you Alice?” Bella asked.
“Who the hell are you?” the woman hacked.
“Is Terelli at home?”
“Terelli doesn’t live here anymore. He’s gone.”
Was he in Hollywood? Coney Island? Miami? Or was he locked away somewhere having the sissy hosed out of him?
“Where is he?”
“I sent him away and you’re trespassing.”
The woman slammed the door in Bella’s face.
“What have you done with my friend?!”
“I’m phoning the police!”
Bella kicked the door and stormed down the walk.
When she reached the front gate, she stopped. She pulled the jar of breast milk out the carriage and hurled it against the house, sending a storm of milk and shattered glass everywhere. Then she grabbed the pram’s handle and charged down the middle of the street.
She flew all the way to the Passaic County dump and pushed her way to the top of Terelli’s hill.
Sweating and out of breath, she dropped to her knees and started digging.
“I’m sorry!” she sobbed as she dug. “I’m so sorry!”
She pawed the ground like a hound. Hands nicked and bleeding, she uncovered the torso of an old baby doll, a mangled fork, a flattened tuna can, the rotted branch of an old Christmas tree. Everything except Terelli Lombardi’s handmade baby cap and matching booties. Covered in dirt and ash, she collapsed in a heap. “What am I gonna do?” she sobbed. “How am I gonna save my baby?” Somebody help me! Help me! Please!”
At first the silence was overwhelming. Then the familiar voice of Terelli Lombardi whispered like the wind,
Meatballs! Make your magic meatballs!
Then the voice of Big Betty LoMonico chimed in,
Meatballs saved my life once!
And someday they’re gonna save yours too!
With her friends’ words ringing in her ears, Bella rose to her feet and raised a defiant fist. “MEATBALLS!” she hollered up to Heaven. “I’LL MAKE MEATBALLS!” she screamed.