was also trying not to laugh. Everyone had gone insane.
The smoke alarm went off. The dogs began jumping and barking at the oven. Thick plumes of black smoke billowed from my stove. I wondered why I hadn’t bought a replacement at the store the day before. I knew the answer; I hadn’t intended to ever use the stove, so it should have been safe.
“Oh, the pizza!” My mother shouted and ran to the stove. She pulled it out. If it had been a pizza, it certainly wasn’t now. Of course, I wasn’t willing to bet it had been a pizza when she put it in the oven. She looked in the oven and pulled out a charred book, then a second book, then what might have been a magazine, finally she pulled out a bag that spilled extremely dry dog food on the floor as it crumbled to ash. “Nadine!” My mother used that tone.
“I don’t use the oven,” I shrugged at her. “I forgot about the books and magazine. There’s probably a bag in there that used to contain them. I store the dog food in there because it’s special dog food, and the dogs can’t find it in there. I don’t know why you didn’t check the oven before you started using it.”
“So it’s my fault that the oven contained stuff that wasn’t supposed to be cooked?” She put her hand on her hips.
“No, it’s your fault for assuming I would use my oven as an oven and not as a special storage place for dog food.” I thought about the books. “The books were in a plastic bag. Thanks, mom, you probably ruined my oven.”
“Don’t you dare make this my fault,” that tone was back. “Why did you put a plastic bag in the oven?”
“I came in with the books and dog food and just shoved them all in the oven before the dogs swarmed me, then I forgot about them.” I looked at the dog food. Pieces had blackened. “That’s a sixty dollar bag of dog food. It’s specially formulated for dogs with joint problems, but it seems to taste better than the normal dog food, because the Danes will eat the entire bag as soon as I bring it home. I have to mix it with their regular food. Now, I need a new bag,” I sighed. I spent a ton of money on dog food. I never looked at the receipt because it would probably make me cry. Dogs should be tax write-offs.
“Good grief,” my mother shook her head. The others were busy opening doors and windows despite it being February. I had to admit, it didn’t smell good.
“I’ll get delivery,” Anthony said.
The Marriage Theory
“Why didn’t you help me?” I asked Zeke after everyone left.
“Because I realized that nothing I could say or do was going to help. Face it, we’re getting married, unless you can convince your mother otherwise.” Zeke was munching on a leftover breadstick.
“You sound incredibly calm for a man condemned to marriage, especially to me.”
“Well, I could panic, but it wouldn’t do us any good. Besides, being married to you isn’t the worst thing that could happen. You’re smart, attractive, fun to be around, have your own money, can hold your own in a fight, and I already live here.”
“So, you’re just going to let my mother railroad us into getting married?”
“If we tell her we got divorced, it will make it worse for both of us. She’ll hound us until we decide to kill people, possibly her.” Zeke thought for a moment. “However, killing her won’t do us any good, because we’ll have my mother to deal with as well.”
“You’re mother? She lives in Tahiti.”
“Do you know what I realized while you were arguing with your mother today?”
“No.”
“She’s a French-Tahitian carbon-copy of your mother. I imagine that the mothers will either love each other or hate each other. It doesn’t really matter. As I watched you argue with your mother, it was like watching me argue with mine. Now, my mother hated my ex-wife. She made sure to let us both know about it too. She called her the Demon Wife. It’s a big part of the reason I’m now divorced. However, I believe she’ll like you.”
“So, you’re going to go through with the marriage to make your mother happy?”
“No, I’m going to go through with the marriage because I don’t believe you can talk your way out of it. Besides, I liked being married. I came home and had someone to talk to. I had someone who appreciated my cooking. The biggest difference is that when I don’t come home because I’m working, you’ll know I’m really working and won’t think I’m stepping out on you. There’s something to be said for that too.”
“What if I don’t appreciate your cooking?”
“You’ll learn,” Zeke looked thoughtful for another moment. “And you like football, which is a huge bonus. My ex-wife didn’t like any sports.”
“Essentially, we’re getting married because you won’t help me set my mother straight.”
“Exactly. Did you forget I said I had a mother just like her? I’m not crossing that woman. If she wants us to get married, I’ll stand with you at the altar.”
“You’re a wuss.”
“I am when it comes to women like our mothers.” Zeke chewed for a second. “Maybe it’s fate, we have mothers made from the same mold, enjoy similar things, live together, it might be the best marriage ever.”
“You’re still a wuss,” I took a breadstick and sat down next to him. My phone rang. Alex’s number showed up. I sent it to voicemail. Needless to say, I was still irritated with her. It rang again. Again, Alex’s number flashed on the caller ID. Again, I sent it to voicemail.
“That could be important,” Zeke said.
“Or she could be calling to laugh at me.”
“She’s laughing with you.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Maybe not today, but in a few years, you’ll wonder why you didn’t marry me sooner.”
“You think you’re that good of a catch?” I raised an eyebrow as I sent my phone to voicemail yet again.
“No, Nadine, I don’t. I just think that we have enough in common and enough differences that we won’t drive each other crazy. Were your parents happily married?”
“Um, no,” I said.
“Mine either. I kept waiting for my mom to kill my father.”
“Me too.”
“We’re already a step ahead of their marriages.” Zeke took my phone as it started to ring again. “She’s pissed at you for not helping with her mother today. She’s also pissed at me, but at least she understands my reasoning.” He didn’t offer a hello or anything else.
He listened for a few minutes. Nodding at the phone and making noises when appropriate. After another minute, he handed me the phone.
I stared at it in his hand, refusing to take it. He sighed and grabbed my hand, shoving the phone in it.
“What?” I snipped.
“Okay, it was funny at first, but now it’s serious,” Alex said. “Your mother is telling everyone. She even conned Lucy into giving her Zeke’s mother’s name and number. She called to tell her. I tried to tell her, and she told me to stop trying to ruin your happiness.”
I put my head on the table. It was cool and hard to the touch. As Alex talked, I began hitting my head on the table. Not hard enough to draw blood, but I was sort of hoping it would cause sudden death. Zeke put his hand down and my forehead hit it. He also took the phone.
“Thanks, Alex. I guess I have to call my mother.” He hung up. My front door banged open and then closed. Zeke went to draw his gun, removing his hand from the table. I began hitting it again.
“Holy crap, mom just told me she called Telisa and Telisa is pissed about the eloping thing. Granddad called me to figure out if I thought Zeke could be baptized in the Russian Orthodox Church,” Ivan paused. “Are you hitting your head on the table?”
Zeke shoved his hand back down. My forehead landed on it with a duller sounding thud. I didn’t lift it.
“Yeah, Alex called. I think your sister is having a meltdown.”
“Our mother is why Amy and I got married,” Ivan sat down next to me. He pushed a bot
tle of whiskey my way. “Amy and I were dating, we’d been together six months. Our mother decided it was time to get married and next thing Amy and I knew, we were picking out place settings and arranging for caterers. We didn’t even pick out the rings, Melina did. Melina managed to plan the wedding in less than a month. She even got Amy’s parents involved. We didn’t have a prayer.”
I opened the whiskey and drank straight from the bottle. After the second swig, Ivan took the bottle from me. He took a slug and passed it to Zeke. Zeke shut off his phone and took a drink. Then he shut off my phone and handed me the bottle.
“So, how do we get out of this?” Zeke asked.
“Move, that’s what Nadine’s other boyfriends had to do,” Ivan answered.
“Drink ourselves to death,” I suggested, not passing the bottle to Ivan.
“Well, the good news is, our mother’s arranged marriages seem to work. She’s steam rolled three cousins and myself. We’re all happy.” Ivan yanked the bottle from my hands. “We have a brother that’s the exception.” “Lately she’s been rethinking you and Amy,” I told Ivan.
“I know, she told me about it.” Ivan answered. “However, I’m not going to divorce her just because Melina says she is giving her creepy vibes.”
“Oh man,” Zeke took the bottle and drank half of it. “My mother has feelings about people too.”
“What are you going to do?” Ivan asked. I looked at him.
“We’re going to get married,” Zeke told him. “I’m not moving, I like it here and I have a good