“She’s an odd duck,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“She’s lying through her teeth,” Ava harrumphed.
“Ready for the Manic Monday Monthly Meeting?” I changed the subject with Ava as we drove from Pastry Spree to the Leavensport Community Center.
“As much as anyone can be ready for these,” Ava said.
Our village had monthly meetings to discuss news with town businesses, future projects, and many times, gossip came up as well. We always had lots of food, which was the highlight of the event. The community center had a cafeteria-type room in it for gatherings and a large theater-type room for performances. Mayor Nalini wanted the meetings to be held in the theater so he could take center stage and have all eyes on him, except he didn’t want food in the theater—so, since no one obeyed the rules, we now had it in the cafeteria and he had to settle for standing at the side of the large room to lead the meetings. This, of course, was all suggested by my Aunt Fern who had been dating Mayor Nalini on and off for some time now.
“What did you bring as food tonight?” Ava asked.
“I made six deep-dish pizzas. They’re in the warmers in the trunk.” Those had been selling like crazy since last fall.
“Can’t go wrong with pizza. That sounds delicious. I could eat two of them myself.” Ava reached in her purse and pulled out a large dill pickle.
“What on earth?”
“It’s a pickle in a pouch,” Ava said, tearing open the plastic and taking a huge bite, groaning in delight.
“PEEW!” I swiped my hand in front of my nose. “That stinks! Roll your window down,” I said, pressing the button to open the sunroof in my Honda Accord.
“Don’t be such a baby. Geesh,” Ava said as she pulled an Almond Joy out of her bag, ripping it open with her teeth and then taking alternating bites of pickle and candy bar.
I gagged and turned my head toward the driver’s side window. “What in the heck are you doing?”
“Having a snack. I’ve been sick. I’m finally hungry now!”
We pulled into the full parking lot toward the back. “Do you want me to drop you off up front?”
“That’s nice, yes,” Ava said, taking another bite of each.
I pulled up front and let Ava out after she wolfed down the last of her pickle and candy bar. She grabbed a few pizzas from the back. “Braaadley!” Ava yelled, waving her arms. I saw him grin, shake his head, and saunter over. She got him to take the other warmer with the remainder of the pizzas. I waved at him before going to park in the back. I decided to let all four windows stay cracked to air out the nutty sour smell that reeked within my car.
I was thinking about tonight’s agenda, which dealt with the plans for the new mall, as I was walking into the center. Ava and I made up the name Manic Monday Meetings because Mondays were always so crazy and our town meetings tended to be a bit eccentric. When you pulled in a lot of locals who were born and raised in the town where their ancestors lived, everyone had strong opinions and weren’t shy about sharing. It often led to colorful language and at times got a little too intense. You never knew what to expect.
Walking into the kitchen, I started pulling pizzas out and got a plate to take a slice for myself. I was feeling better and realized I was famished. I took a big bite and moaned loudly. Wow, I was an amazing chef if I said so myself—which I did.
“Oh, wow, I was just coming to get these to put out front.”
I looked up to see Marissa, the woman who had recently moved to our town and actually purchased my first home. She had also recently opened Deep Dish Pizza Done Right. She was walking next to her new full-time help, Roxi who smiled awkwardly at me.
“Huh?” I said unintelligently.
“The pizzas.” Marissa pointed to what I was eating.
“These are yours?” I asked incredulously. They tasted exactly like mine and the warmers looked like mine too.
“Jolie, you totally outdid yourself—these pizzas are amazing!” Ava walked up with a plate that was piled with six huge pieces of the saucy, cheesy concoction.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked, my eyes traveling back and forth between her plate and the pizza on the table.
“Out front. Bradley and I just put the pizzas out. Whoa, you brought more?”
“No, these are my pizzas,” Marissa huffed, crossing her arms.
“Let me taste.” Ava reached over and served herself a seventh piece of pizza and took a huge bite. Her eyes widened. “This tastes EXACTLY like ours. What the—”
“Sorry,” I interrupted, knowing this wasn’t going to be pretty, “but you made these and these are your warmers?”
I looked under the flap to see if my sticker This warmer belongs to Jolie Tucker! was there. Nope. I looked to Ava and shook my head.
“Yes, this is my recipe and my warmer bags. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get set up.” Marissa and Roxi pushed past us with their bags of identical pizza.
I curled my lip and dropped the half-eaten slice of Marissa’s imposter pizza into the trash.
“You’re going to be THAT girl,” Ava said, then added, “I approve.”
“I don’t like her and I think it’s weird that Roxi is working with her. Also, you tasted it! It tastes exactly like ours. I mean EXACTLY!” I was beyond worked up over this for some reason.
“If it isn’t my two favorite gals!” Stella walked up, smiling. She was the new owner of Ralph’s pizza place which was now named Ralph & Stella’s New York Pizza.
“Do you know Marissa from the new deep dish pizza place in town?” Ava asked.
“Sure do, she visited my shop to try out some competition,” Stella said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Have I shared my deep-dish pizza recipe with you?” I asked in a more accusatory voice than I meant to. “You didn’t share it with her, did you?”
Stella looked crestfallen. “Um—no—no, I don’t think you ever shared it. But if you did, I’d never do something like that to you, Jolie.”
Even Ava was taken aback by my rude behavior as tears welled up in Stella’s eyes. Great, she had enough trouble with some jerks in society who harassed her for being trans, now I went and added myself to the jerk list.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My moods have been insane lately—not that that’s an excuse for talking to you that way.”
“It’s okay. I have my days too.” Stella looked down at her hands.
“Seriously, don’t pay any attention to Grumpy McGrumperson here—she was all over me about my snacks in her car. I just ignore her when she gets like that,” Ava said, making me momentarily want to elbow her until I realized Stella needed someone to back her up after my bad behavior.
My entire body must have slumped because Stella looked like she felt for me. Great, not only was I a jerk, but I was a feel-bad-for-me-for-being-a-jerk jerk! “I feel like there is no good way for me to apologize. Behaving that way with Ava is one thing, you are a whole different story!”
I reached out to hug her and she graciously squeezed me back. “I’ll take it as a compliment that you love me as much as this one.” She jerked her thumb toward Ava.
I smiled. “Please do.”
Mayor Nalini banged a gavel on a cafeteria table loudly signaling the start of the meeting. The loud mumbling lowered to barely a whisper as everyone took a seat and started chowing down.
I looked through the agenda that had been emailed out this morning as the mayor begin moving through the points. I took a big bite of my deep dish, but I was so frustrated at how Marissa’s “signature” deep dish tasted exactly like mine that I couldn’t enjoy it—so I shoved it away.
Grandma Opal was sitting across from me and glanced skeptically in my direction, then shrugged. She took the two pieces off my plate onto hers, making it heap into a large tower of deep-dish delight.
The mayor seemed to be going through the list of topics quickly, explaining some new businesses to open soon in our village from the farmland that’s been sold. Whispering mumbles turned to grumbles—no one in the village was in favor of expansion into the city. Yet Carlos would get his opportunity at the American dream with this development, so it couldn’t be all bad—except for the mysterious criminals who were extorting him.
Ava, who was sitting on my right, side-kicked my calf under the cafeteria table and I yelped out loud, then covered my mouth quickly as all eyes turned to me. My hubby, on my left, leaned into my ear with a smirk on his face. “You’re up, sweetie.”
I looked quizzically at him, then realized where the mayor was on the list—he’d just announced the new Tri-City/Leavensport mall had an opening date of Spring of 2023 and the use of the “recently discovered” underground tunnels between the city and our town would be put to good use by the Nestle Construction Company. I had to give the monthly update on cross-selling and make our little hamlet look the appropriate part.
“Sorry.” I glared at Ava as I stood with my journal full of my notes in hand. “We’ve added a few of the newer businesses to our cross-selling promotions and—” I put both hands over my stomach as it gurgled loudly. I noticed Grandma Opal, Aunt Fern, Uncle Wylie, and my mom sitting across from me, staring straight at my stomach. That answered that—others heard that too.
My mouth went from dry to watery in seconds as I felt the chunks of saucy pizza I just ate start to come back up. I slammed the chair behind me to the floor and sprinted down the hall toward the bathroom and was so close to making it. I yanked on the bathroom door. Locked. I fell to my knees and disaster spewed out. I had almost made it.
The door slowly opened, and Marissa stood with a slathering of freckles across her nose and long, loose, icy-white-blonde curls that swirled down to near her waist. Her one eye color was green while the other was dark hazel, making her look rebellious yet sophisticated. She was staring down at me with an odd grin on her face. I looked up, wiping my mouth as she held her hands up in the air over her head. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were sick.” She took a huge step over my mess and added, “I noticed you ate your pizza last, too.”
Without thought, as she stated her comment her front leg was lifted over my mess, I grabbed hold of it as she went SPLAT and slipped through my barf.
Foul language rang throughout the hall as many left their tables trying to get a glimpse of what had happened in the hallway. “YOU—” Marissa stopped suddenly, then her facial expression shifted from wretched anger to sullenly hurt.
“Why would you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?” Marissa’s facial expression and tone changed on a dime when she saw she had an audience, hiding her true colors.
“Jolie, come on—” Keith started jogging down the hall to help Marissa. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I was trying to get past her to go get some towels to get her cleaned up when she reached for my leg, dragging me down.” Marissa looked down at me, shaking her head and looking sad.
I knelt, my hands on the dirty floor, still swallowing hard from the queasiness I felt. I couldn’t believe how she changed so quickly and lied so blatantly.
“What is your problem?” I managed to spit out as I began to stand to do a walk of shame.
“Jolie, I’m sorry I was in the bathroom when you needed it but—”
“Don’t bother, Marissa—Jolie, grow up. Seriously,” Keith stated, helping Marissa down the hall as Ava, my family, and hubby came toward me with clean-up gear in hands.
“What was that all about?” Ava asked as she stood erect, turning her head to one side and putting her hand to her nose.
“She’s insane. You shouldn’t be here or you’ll be sick too,” I said.
“She’s right—listen to Jolie. Mick, you get those two girls home and we’ll get this cleaned up,” Grandma Opal said, reaching for Uncle Wylie to help her to her knees to start cleaning. I guess once a mom, always a mom! Grandma didn’t seem phased by it.
Delilah swept in and grabbed Ava and Mick helped me to the truck. Ava was going to drive my Honda back to our house and Delilah would follow. We were all climbing into the vehicles when Mary came hollering after us.
“Girls, I can’t run that fast right now!”
We turned around to see Mary holding her protruding baby belly, trying to run.
“Whoa, slow down!” Ava said, hands out as if the baby would fall out of her.
“Okay, no—I’m good,” Mary was panting, trying to lean over, but her baby bump was getting too big.
That little guy was coming soon or Mary was going to pop!
“Whoo, Jolie, Ava.” Mary looked to Mick and Delilah awkwardly.
“Oh yeah, we’ll go get the cars ready,” Delilah said, turning my husband, who was clueless, around to give us some privacy.
“Are you okay?” I reached for her but saw her repulsed by my smell. “Sorry.” I pulled back.
“No, I’m sorry. You need to go home and rest. I wanted to talk to you both when Carlos or Mirabelle wasn’t around. Um—” She fiddled with her hands, then reached up to wipe a tear from her eye. “—I think he’s in real trouble—Carlos.”
“So, you know?” Ava asked, rubbing her arm.
“Ye—Yes, YOU BOTH KNOW!?” she yelled-slash-cried simultaneously.
“We don’t know all the details. It’s a long story, but he didn’t do anything wrong. We can all sit down and discuss it, but I’m so sorry I have got to get home and get a shower.” I felt bad bailing on her but the smell of me was making me worried I’d do a repeat performance.
“Of course, just—I think his family in Mexico is being threatened. I’m not sure, but there are things I’ve seen and overheard.”
“You go, Jolie. I’ll stay with Mary,” Ava said. I nodded and I walked off hesitantly. Dang this stupid stomach flu bug!
Last night, I went straight home, showered, and fell asleep for a solid twelve hours. I woke refreshed and was happy I felt so much better. I had today off and needed to get ready to spend some time with Mick’s mom and sister. We were having a “girls’ day out to get to know each other better per his sister. I hoped today went better than previous encounters with Mick’s family.
“Feeling better, sicky?” Mick asked, stepping out of our large, shared bathroom with a shower, a tub, and a small hot tub off in the corner. He had a towel around his waist and was glistening with water as steam poured from the bathroom. I felt like I was inside a Danielle Steele novel waiting to be taken by this hunk of man meat.
I pulled myself out of my romantic fantasy. “SO much better! I hope today goes well.” I threw the covers off, forgetting poor Lenny and Bobbi Jo were snuggled up sleeping next to each other. They both hissed and ran out of the room.
“Sorry guys!” I yelled after them, watching Mick shake his head in disapproval. “What, I was preoccupied thinking about—” I felt my cheeks flush and got up, moving past him to find my jeans and a sweatshirt.
Mick grabbed me and pulled me to him, bending his body down to meet my forehead with his. I rubbed his muscular arms and grinned. “—nothing, there’s not time for that now. Your family already can’t stand me because they weren’t at the wedding. Not that they were impressed before that.”
“Who cares what they think? They’re criminals,” Mick said through gritted teeth.
I still couldn’t understand how he could be so cold toward his family. I mean, my family made me INSANE on the daily, but still, I loved them. If they were in trouble, I’d drop everything to be there. I’d had this conversation before and his reply was always the same—my family is not a bunch of criminals. True. But still . . .
I kissed Mick on the way out. “Wish me luck.”
“Just be you. They can like you or not. If they are rude, just leave or call me. I’ll come get you. You know I don’t expect you to try with them, right?”
“I know, but it seems they are making more of an effort with you and I want you to have your family too.” I rubbed his arm.
“You and our cats are my family. That’s all the family I need. Family comes in different forms. Not everyone has a traditional family.”
I slid my hand from his bicep to his hands and squeezed them. “You know you are a part of the Tucker family whether you want to be or not.” We both grinned. “But you’re right. We are a family and we are all enough for each other.”
I got to our little Leavensport mall at exactly eleven a.m. for our lunch. I would have been a bit early except Mick kept me at home a little longer than I expected—not that I was complaining.
Maya and Maria already had a seat at Jenni’s Diner with coffees in front of them.
“Hello, sorry I’m a little late—” I started.
“We figured you’d be a little late, dear,” Mick’s mom, Maya, said, taking a well-manicured hand to pour her creamer in her coffee.
I noticed she had Jenni bring a silver creamer as she was not using the plastic ones from the booth.
“Why do you say that?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh, you know, small town people tend to go at a slower pace. Seems like you may need to change your rhythm soon enough as this little village of yours will be hopping within a few years.”
“Mother, be nice,” Maria said, rolling her large dark eyes at me.
“Nah, she’s fine and partially right. We do work at our own pace here. But small-town folk keep big-city slickers in business with the produce from the farms, not to mention places to get away from the fray and so many more benefits when it comes to rural living. That and our lifestyle is more environmentally friendly most of the time too!” I smiled graciously as I waved for Jenni to bring me a glass of sweet tea.
Maria’s phone rang and she looked down. “I need to take this.” She got up and moved to the counter.
Maya looked around and sighed, then flipped her thick, long, straight locks dramatically. “Excuse me dear, I need to find a suitable restroom.”
With that, she got up and left the diner. My mouth dropped open and like the big baby I was, tears started to form. Why was I feeling guilty? She was the one who was rude to me in that manipulative way women can be where they “pretend” with their tone to be nice, while their eyes and the crocodile smile let you know exactly where you stand.
I took a few deep breaths and smiled up at Jenni as she delivered my iced tea. “Hang in there. They haven’t been pleasant to me either, and they keep turning their noses up to every person who walks inside.”
I started to apologize for my in-law’s behavior, but Jenni saw it coming and held up a hand. “Not up to you to apologize for overly privileged snobs. Lord knows they’ll never apologize. I figure I’m happy and they are obviously miserable and make a choice to be so. You do you, hon,” she said with a smile and a wink.
Boy, now I was getting teary-eyed for a whole different reason. I didn’t feel sick anymore—why were my moods on such a rollercoaster ride?
I sat looking at the emails on my phone and noting that Ava texted me blabber five times, my mom texted to remind me to wear my mouth guard at night. She thought my headaches lately could be due to me trying to show off for my new “beau” as she calls Mick. Grandma Opal texted to tell me she noticed my roots were getting straight when I was on the floor sick last night and I really should think about scheduling an appointment to get a perm. Phone off.
I looked up at Maria who was now leaning back casually on the stool at the counter. I didn’t think she even realized her mother had up and left. She nodded and furrowed her brow while talking to whomever it was. “Sure, it’s not a problem to get that shipped to Ohio at all.”
A long lull of silence, then, “No—no, seriously, don’t worry about the cost. Our family will absorb the cost to get the materials here.”
Okay, I was feeling bad I’d heard some stuff until that. I slid to the edge of my side of the booth, one butt cheek hanging off, trying to hear more. I understood why Mick struggled with his family. They were a mafia family. He changed his name and walked away from them to follow a career in law enforcement. Still, though, family. Ugh, he was right, I couldn’t relate to his situation. My family was just a helicopter family and I wanted to disown them fifty percent of the time. I’d be done if they were a mafia family.
I reached for my tote, put my phone in it, and picked up my keys to head out. I threw down a twenty-dollar bill to compensate Jenni for having to put up with the Milano family.
“Where are you going?” Maya followed after me as I opened the diner door to leave.
“Oh, I thought you left and Maria was on the phone so I decided—”
“You always run off if you don’t get your way?” Maya asked, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
My brain went momentarily numb. Was she blatantly baiting me? I watched her narrow-toed Manolo Blahnik’s tap impatiently on the concrete in time with her blood-red manicured nails tapping her arm.
“Where did you two run off to and who left a twenty for three cups of coffee?” Maria asked, walking up to us, swirling her expensive-looking fur over her shoulders.
“I guess the new Mrs. Milano feels like she’s married into money so she can fling around a twenty for cheap, watered-down coffee,” Maya sneered, staring me down.
I felt a mixture of anger, embarrassment, sadness, and hilarity. Yes, hilarity too. This situation seemed unreal to me.
“Mother!” Maria screamed.
“Who were you talking to anyway?” Maya asked.
“I heard you talking about shipping something here. A product of some sort. Can I help with something?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Why were you listening to my conversation?” Maria was quick to jump fences to her mom’s side.
Now I crossed my arms. “I was sitting in a booth right next to you. Your mom walked out. You weren’t exactly whispering.”
Maria had that whole sweet-slash-hate façade going just like her mother. She gave me a look that could have killed me then switched to that same crocodile smile with all that fake sweetener. “You know, I’ve told that brother of mine he really needs to switch to using the family extra virgin olive oil. I mean, that restaurant has our name, after all. It makes sense to use the family oil from Sicily.”
“It’s M&M’s for Mick Meiser. Not Mick Milano.” I stuck my chin out, then immediately felt like a rat fink for saying something so horrible. No reason for me to sink to their level—but, too late.
Maria pretended not to hear me. I felt my emotions stirring more and more and was trying to take deep breaths without them noticing how much they were getting to me.
“Has Mick ever made Pasta alla Norma for you with our family’s oil? It’s a huge staple in Sicily.”
I shook my head.
“I’ll make some for you. Then, you can appreciate the taste of real olive oil and what it does to a dish.” She punctuated this statement with a chef’s kiss, then shook her head as though someone like me could never fully understand what she was talking about.
“So, who were you talking to?” Maya sharply emphasized each new syllable to her daughter.
Maya grinned evilly at her mother. “Imelda.”
“Ahhh, Mick’s long-lost love. I love luxurious perfumes but Imelda, that AlaÏa Paris she wears…” Maria put her index finger and her thumb together and drew an imaginary line in the air like she was pulling closed a zip signaling perfection like the Italian gesture. Then she said, “Perfetto, and how is the ever-so-beautiful Sicilian princess doing?”
“The what now?” I said dully.
“Oh, those two, so much love. If only—” Maya looked to a faraway land.
“She asked about him—and you,” Maria said nodding toward me. “Don’t forget about the Balmain Paris headbands. That leather. Even makes us Italians jealous.”
I ignored the info on how stylish Mick’s long-lost love was and asked, “Me? I’ve never even heard of her.”
“Well, she’s heard of you, my dear. Trust me.” Maya narrowed her eyes at me. “She wants to know you since you married my Mick.”
I felt blood red heat flush up from my neck to my cheeks. Anger and tears started to well up within me. Mick was right. These people were horrible.
I turned away and stomped toward my car. I heard both of them make whimpering pleas for me to come back. Fake pleas. They were trying to save face at this point. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to let them see me cry. Tears began spilling down my cheeks as I turned the corner of the sidewalk to where I parked in the mall parking lot.
I saw Keith’s sister, Denise, outside of Hang Tight Clothes for Teens, she was waving her shopping-bag-laden arms around, facing another figure whose face I couldn’t see. As I got closer, I heard her yelling, “You aren’t so perfect yourself. No one knows all of the crap you’ve been involved in over the years. Don’t you dare threaten me, Darrell! I could have you put in jail!”
I stopped in my tracks, debating whether to turn around and go back toward the mean Milano girls or have to pass this to get to my car. I looked both ways, then noticed Darrell and Denise looking at me. I waved lamely.
“Sorry, I was just walking to my car. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize, Jolie. Darrell was just leaving.” Denise glared at him.
Darrell, Denise’s now ex-husband, scowled at me, then at Denise, and turned around, jogging away.
“Are you okay?” Denise asked me even though she was the one who needed a shoulder to lean on now.
“I’m just fed up with some stuff,” I said. “Looks like you can relate.”
“Uh yeah. And I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to pick the kids up and I need a little quiet time before I do.”
“Say no more. I’m a girl who understands the need for peace and quiet,” I said as we parted ways.
My mind wandered with thoughts of how difficult family could be as I drove home. I pulled into the drive and took a breath. Mick’s truck was in the driveway. I was hoping he had to work late so I could get my bearings.
I hefted my large tote onto my shoulder and headed inside to a warm welcome from some furballs. “Hi babies,” I squealed and bent down to nudge ears, pat their behinds, and do a quick pick up for head kisses.
I threw my body on the couch and reached for my laptop, searching for AlaÏa perfume and my mouth dropped. There were only three hundred made in the world and it cost twenty-five hundred dollars for one ounce. I started crying again. Why was I so emotional?
“Hey babe, I brought some pizzas home from the restaurant. I didn’t think about you getting sick on it last night until it was—whoa, what’s wrong? What did they do?”
“What?” I looked at him innocently.
“Don’t even—your mascara is running down your cheeks. Your face is pale and you can’t hide a thing with your eyes. I can see the pain in them. What did they do? Tell me now.” Mick’s neck was beginning to flush red and he clenched his jaw.
“Thanks for being so protective. Seriously, I don’t think it’s as bad as I’m making it look. I don’t think I felt as good as I thought and my emotions have been all over the place today. AND, don’t you dare ask me if it’s that time of the month, mister!” I scolded playfully, trying to change the topic.
I thought about asking him about Imelda, but I figured that may create more interrogation of what all was said today and I didn’t want to get into all of it. I was saved by the bell.
“Your butt dung,” I said.
“What?” Mick said.
“Your butt—it is dinging—it dung,” I said, pointing to his pocket. “Your phone.” I tossed my head with a “duh” gesture.
“That’s just gross.” Mick laughed as he answered the call.
I could tell it was Teddy and it sounded like Mick would be going out on a call tonight after all. I stood wondering what he meant by “that’s gross.” I mean all I said was his butt dung—dung—Oh, I get it. I started giggling to myself as Mick hung up.
“What’s up, babe?” I asked, feeling better already.
“I’ve got to go. An unhoused woman was found dead by the shelter,” he said, leaning down to kiss me and rushing out the door.
Lia?