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Sunday morning brought wind and rain, and the family sat around the table discussing how they might still make it to church.
“Christopher, run across the street and see if the Dennison’s are taking their car to mass. If they are, ask if you three young ones can go with them. The nuns will be checking who’s there and who’s not. Lucky nuns, they don’t have the long walk in the pouring rain, and the wind is getting worse.”
“Ah, Ma, why can’t Frank go?” Frank pouted.
“Because you’re faster and won’t spend all day talking to Mrs. Dennison and eating her cookies. Now get a move on.” Moira said flicking the dishtowel at him.
While Christopher was gone, Moira laid out her plans for Sunday lunch. “Ellen, you will help in the kitchen. Frank will lay out the dining room table. We have a smoked shoulder, carrots, potatoes, cabbage, and turnips to get ready. The shoulder needs to simmer on the stove for a couple of hours before adding the vegetables. I’ll put them in after the guests arrive, so they don’t overcook. Nothing is worse than overcooked mushy vegetables.” She paused to think. “Missed anything? No,” she continued.
“We can talk a bit and get to know one another before sitting down to the meal.” She crossed her fingers hoping her guests would approve of her menu. She was
giving them something typically Irish. She had thought about corned beef and cabbage, but every Irish house served that. Moira prided herself on her cooking, and she even had a couple apple pies waiting for desert.
Christopher rushed in the door. “Mrs. Dennison said yes, she will take us. She wants to go early so they can park close.” He said, his hair dripping water down his face.
“Good, let’s hope the priest is not long winded today. I need you all back here to help,” Moira said.
“Ma, don’t worry so. You’re the best cook I know, and I know they’ll love every bite.” Michael put his arms around her and hugs her close. “Thanks for doing this. It means a lot to me and to Ellen,” he said.
“Go on with ya now. Give me some help with these dishes.” Moira blinked back a tear and swatted Michael on the back of his head.
The morning went quickly as Moira prepared the meal, and before she knew it they were back from church.
“We need didn’t even need to go church this morning,” Frank was not happy. “Hardly anyone was there.”
“Mrs. Dennison said it was the same upstairs.” Going to Sunday mass was not Christopher’s idea of fun in any weather. “Guess no one wanted to get wet. Guess we’re lucky the Dennison’s have a car. Guess the next time we can stay home!”
“Don’t you go getting on my nerves, young man! They are rattled enough already.”
“Ma, do you think the Dennison’s might let me use their car to pick up Dania and her father? I hate to have them walk in this weather.” Michael asked.
“Michael, all you can do is ask. Here, take them a couple of jars of grape jelly. That might help with the asking.” She reached into the pantry and handed him a couple of jars of the rich dark homemade jelly sealed with paraffin wax. “Be sure to thank them for taking the others earlier.” Moira reminded him.
Michael headed for the fairgrounds in the Dennison’s’ car. The wind was picking up, and branches swayed alarmingly. The ground was littered with leaves and branches. The entrance between the gates was flooded, and the black Oldsmobile almost stalled out. He pulled as close as he could to Dania’s trailer. A gust of wind almost took the car door out of his hand when he opened it. He ran up the steps, knocked, and opened the door without waiting. The rain was falling off the roof like a waterfall.
Dania was standing in the small kitchen, her hands on her hips—glaring at her father. “The old fool doesn’t want to go. Said he’s too tired and doesn’t want to go out in the rain. I told him how important this is.” She tried once more. “You won’t melt. Michael has a car!”
“Listen, Dania. There will be other times, I hope.” He turned to Boris. “Mr. Koslov, it’s okay if you don’t feel up to coming. We can have you come another time.” Michael
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didn’t want to provoke an argument. “Dania, we’d better go. This weather is getting bad.”
She got her coat and wrapped a scarf over her head. Michael opened the door, fighting to hold onto it. He helped Dania down the stairs and into the car.
“I hope he’ll be okay there by himself.” Dania worried.
“He’ll be fine.” Michael covered her hand with his. “He’ll probably have a good nap. We can bring him back some of Ma’s apple pie.”
“I’m a little afraid of meeting your family, Michael. In my culture meeting the family is a big deal. It usually means a marriage proposal.” She said shyly.
“Oh boy, I didn’t mean to mislead you. You know I like you a lot, and I don’t want you to leave. I just thought you might like to meet my family, and I want them to meet you. My parents don’t trust carnival people, and for Ma to suggest you and your father come to lunch is a big step for her.”
The drive to his house was a little tricky. Michael had to dodge a couple rather large downed tree limbs.
“Maybe we should have rescheduled this lunch, but I wanted them to meet you before you have to leave,” Michael said.
“Maybe this will pass before I have to return to the carnival,” Daria said flinching as another branch hit the windshield.
When they pulled up in front of the house, he ran around the car to open her door. Ellen was waiting with the front door open, Tony standing beside her, as they dashed up the steps.
“I’m glad you could come, I can’t believe it’s so nasty out. Da’s listening to the radio for the weather report.” She helped Dania out of her wet things. “What a pretty dress. I’d love to wear colorful things, but the nuns don’t approve. Dania. Didn’t your father want to come?” Ellen asked.
“No, I’m afraid not. He had a lot of excuses. He’s just being hard-headed. It’s his loss.” Dania said embarrassed. “You and Michael have been very good to me, and I appreciate it.” She gave Ellen a sisterly hug.
“Come, meet my father and the rest of the family,” Michael took her hand and guided her to the front room. “Ma will be out in a minute. Da, I would like you to meet my friend, Dania. This is my father, Donal Flannagan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sir,” Dania stepped forward to shake Donal’s hand.
“You didn’t tell me she was such a beauty, Michael.” Donal said, smiling. He watched the color raising in her cheeks. “You can call me Donal or Da. Sorry it’s so bad out. I’ve been trying to catch the weather report. It should be on soon.”
Moira joined the group, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She tucked the towel in the waistband of her apron greeting Dania warmly.
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“Hello, I’m Moira, Michael’s mother. We’re so glad you came. Your father couldn’t make it?”
“He’s a divia mush. He was out late last night and is not feeling well,” Dania said, excusing her father.
“What did you just call him?” asked Moira.
“Sorry, I called him a crazy man,” she replied.
Tony piped up. “I knew what she said.” He’s rather proud of himself. “It’s part of the carnival language. Some of the guys are using it.”
“Yes, they are,” Dania added smiling at Tony.
“Let me check on things and I’ll be right back.” Moira slipped back into the kitchen to check on the lunch. The others found places to sit and continued talking.
Donal said, “I’m intrigued. It must be exciting, your life with the carnival.”
“It’s all I know. My parents worked with the circus in Russia when I was born, and after my mother died we came to America.” Dania told him.
“I worked on several of the booths. It’s a lot of fun.” Tony added, smiling.
“I like the lights, music, and caramel apples, but I think I like cotton candy the best.” Ellen took Tony’s hand. “Why don’t we go into the dining room?”
As they took their places and get comfortable, Moira called Ellen and the boys to help bring out the food. Once everything was ready and Moira took her seat she said, “Frank will you say the blessing.”
All but Dania bowed their heads as Frank began the prayer.
“Bless us, Oh Lord, for these our gifts . . .”
Dania looked from one family member to another.
“. . . that we are about to receive . . .”
They all have their eyes closed and their hands pressed together. She is touched by the sight.
“. . . from Thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord.”
The family and Tony responded, “Amen.”
“Thank you. That was very nice, Frank,” said Donal.
“Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold,” Moira suggested.
Dania samples bites of several items. “This is marvelous. My father doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“You like to try different foods?” Moira asked.
“I love trying out the new dishes everywhere we travel. I began collecting regional cookbooks, but it’s no fun cooking for one person.” Dania said glancing sideways at Michael.
Michael was quiet, listening to the chatter around him.
“Dania, what carnival words can you teach me?” asked Frank.
“Well, divia means crazy.”
“Oh, like Tony?” asked Ellen, and they all laughed.
“Mush, pronounced like the word ‘push’ means a buddy, a man, a guy.”
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The table talk is pleasant and comfortable, but Michael was occupied with his own thoughts. He was thinking about what Dania said about cooking for one. He looked across the table at her, and it hits him again. Oh Lord, help me. I am in love. Her smile, those deep brown eyes, and the way she laughs with Da. If only she would stay and marry me. He took a gulp of water. Did I just think that? I must be a divia mush, even thinking she would.
When they’re finished, Dania offers to help clear the table.
“Thank you, Dania, but we have it. This time you are our guest. Next time we will put you to work.” Moira motions to the boys to help. “Maybe you can bring a couple of those cook books. I’d like to see them. We could try a recipe or two of them out.”
“I’d like that very much,” said Dania. Her heart is warming to this large Irish family. The carnival has always been her family, but there is so much more here. There’s love that she has never felt before. Could she leave the carnival and stay here? Would Michael want that?
Frank came rushing up. “It’s the weatherman. He says a hurricane is coming. Da what’s a hurricane?”
“Let’s go listen,” Donal said, motioning for a hand up. Michael and Tony help him to his chair in the front room. Donal turned the radio up.
The weatherman’s voice was tense as he spoke. “We are in for a bad few hours here in Boston. A fierce storm has just ripped through Long Island with winds gusting to one hundred miles an hour. This is a fast-moving storm traveling at sixty miles an hour. We expect major flooding in and around the Boston area. It is unknown at this time where exactly the storm will go, but it will hit Massachusetts. Everyone is advised to stay indoors.” The listeners could hear the weatherman flipping pages. “This just in: Long Island has been devastated by the storm, and we expect high casualties in that area. Again, stay indoors! Trees and large branches are in danger of falling. Stay away from downed electrical wires. This has been Larry Gardino with your local weather. We will keep you updated on the storm’s progress.” The report ended, and the station returned to music.
“Oh no, Papa is alone in the trailer. I must go to him.”
“Michael, you and Tony take Dania and get her father to come back here,” Donal demanded. “don’t take no for an answer.”
“Yes, he must come here. A trailer is no place to be in a storm like this,” said Moira.
“You are too kind. I can’t ask that of you,” said Dania.
“You didn’t ask; we are offering. You must both stay here until it is safe to go back.” Moira took Dania’s face in her hands and kisses her on the forehead. A tear rolls down Dania’s cheek. She has never felt such kindness.
Michael already had their coats. Tony took Ellen’s hand and kissed it. Then to the surprise of all including himself he kissed her boldly on the lips. “But before I go, I
want to know one thing.” Getting down on one knee he takes Ellen’s hand. “Ellen Flannigan, will you marry me?”
The family is speechless as they watch the scene unfold.
Ellen blushed, her cheeks turning rosy red. She stole a quick look at her parents, and when they don’t react, she nods excitedly, and says, “Yes, Tony, I will marry you.”
“Are you out of your mind? You ask her ... now!” Michael punches Tony in the arm.
“Ow,” Tony rubs his arm, “I’m on a dangerous mission. I might not come back in one piece.” He said smiling and winked at Ellen.
“Let’s get out of here before Ma and Da recover.” Michael advised.