Page 7 of Four Times Blessed


  Chapter 7

  It must take over an hour just to get through all those people and back up to the meetinghouse.

  I thank Jesus Christ when we’re safely seated at the head of a long table. People bring us things to drink. Having Andrew so close makes me nervous and tingly, so the cold lemonade is a nice shock.

  I’m sure it’s a lovely meal because my zizi can do nothing less, but I don’t know because I can’t eat it. Mostly because I can’t believe I’m going to marry the creature next to me.

  “So, Crusa, I’ve read everything of yours that’s been published. I most recently read your paper on P. c. crucifer. Very interesting.”

  Apparently he’s researched me.

  “I found the remarks you made in your conclusion about your data being supportive of the claim that human-generated climate changes are influencing the evolution of species unnaturally very…interesting. Don’t you think that’s a bit of a leap? I expected more, as they say, scientific restraint from someone from Long Island,” he laughs. “But it’s your first paper as a lead investigator, right? Nobody can blame you. Everybody sounds a little naïve in their first one. Besides, how can the beautiful woman sitting beside me have ever entertained such a shocking opinion?”

  Huh? and Um… are about the only things I can think. Luckily, my aunt senses my distress and responds for me.

  “That was more the opinion of our Crusa’s research instructors, wasn’t it dear?”

  “Uh…”

  “I heard they’re known for more…environmental perspectives out here, what with the oceanography and atmospheric facilities they put in. Best in the nation. But are you saying my fiancée had a little help with her paper?” Andrew leans towards me and smiles.

  “I had some help, but I did write the part you’re referring to myself.” Unfortunately. My advisor adored it. The central grading service did not. “I honestly didn’t mean anything by it, though.”

  “Of course you didn’t, dear,” says my zizi, as worried as I am that we’ve just lost my husband over a stupid peep frog. I see her mouthing a prayer when, in the next moment, Andrew pats my hand.

  “It’s not your fault. You should have been given more oversight. Your instructors should’ve looked after you more closely and pointed it out so you could change it.” He gives me a soft look and then shares an amused one with my aunt.

  I don’t know whether I’m more regretful of my mistakes or offended that he’s pointed them out. Darn that P. c. lucifer. I mean crucifer.

  My aunt asks Andrew about his senior thesis, and he goes off excitedly about mass communication something or other, gesturing so widely that I have to use all my willpower to not duck. To occupy my mind, I start making a list of the qualities I appreciate about him. Because I know the priest is going to ask me for them when he comes to marry us. Ummm…enthusiasm…passion…sharp mind…and…

  I see the cabbage on the table and think back to my infernal froggy friends. Because crucifer…cruciferous…hah. Those poor little things are so unfortunately named. I feel bad for them. I imagine a tiny little amphibious fallen angel with a broccoli for a head hopping around the meetinghall. I smile to myself and gaze around the crowded room.

  That is, until I notice some man by the wall with his eyes on me. I can’t figure out which of Angie’s sons is his father. Thinking hard, I stare for a while. Then he smirks and my brain registers that he’s been actively observing my dimwitted efforts. I look down and ride out the blush.

  No wonder people find me creepy. At least that’s what Eleni tells me. Oh, well, that guy’ll get over it. I turn back to Andrew to give him a reason to list me as attentive.

  “Oh, wonderful. Here come Angie’s terrors,” says my zizi. I give her a sympathetic pressing together of the lips and smooth my fingers over her dry hand. Led by Camillo, a handful of boys comes inside. Oh. If those are Angie’s, then the other one I didn’t know…I wonder if he could be Larissa’s gossip.

  I think I didn’t need to make such a fuss over defending them from my aunt.

  My zizi grumbles.

  “What was that?” asks my Auntie Alicia. The second oldest sister of my Aunt Larissa.

  Loud enough to be heard over the crowd, my zizi puts on a smile that makes me slightly nervous and announces to all, “I said, here come my sister’s children!”

  All heads turn to the doors, and the heads of the people that are just coming in turn to meet them. There’s less of the later group, though, so they do a lot more turning. Bernoulli principle, or something like it. My zizi bustles over to them.

  “Hello, dears, we’re all so excited you could drop by, even if it is so late. The food is out, please help yourselves. I wish you’d come earlier so you could’ve had it hot but oh well. Here, I’ll reheat some of the meat for you. Come with me.”

  After stepping up to each of them to receive their kisses, she spins without delay. They trail her to the back, which I think shows good sense. It makes me think they haven’t come for trouble.

  I look around to see what everyone else thinks. Most still watch them, their straight spines and hunched shoulders, the quick steps out of my zizi’s way. Again, good sense. As for my family, stares are muted, faces are impassive, and there are some well-monitored shifts of position that can’t really be called fidgeting for to the amount of planning and intention I’m positive are going into them.

  The din builds again. Down our table, I notice my brother’s just taken a seat. I smile, so surprised to see him. He must have brought those guys here because he wanted to come see us. I clutch the sides of my chair to keep from bouncing.

  My brother smiles and his eyes widen at me. I shrug one eyebrow, then take a prim sip of my water. He lifts his cup, raises both his eyebrows to the boy next to me, because he can’t do one at a time no matter how hard he tries, then sips as well.

  Meanwhile, my Auntie Alicia swings her gaze over everyone at our table. Andrew doesn’t know that he should really be studying his bit of cheese right now, or perhaps examining the tablecloth like I am, so he’s the one that ends up being caught. I place my hand on his.

  “Well. Isn’t that something.”

  “Ah, I, uh, don’t understand. Are they relations of yours?”

  “Oh, you could say that. They’re Zizi’s youngest sister’s kids. I can’t believe they showed up here. And so late, too. Thinking they can just pop over whenever. Their parents should have told them it was too late, but what can you expect. Their manners are different. Crusa, honey, I’m sure they’ll all be on their best behavior, and if not, someone will take care of it, so don’t you worry, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not worried. I think they’re friends of Camillo’s,” I say.

  “Yes, well,” I get one nod, one set of pressed lips, and a few brushes of her fingers on her lap. Next to her, my Uncle Stonington takes a bite of antipast. That was a hot pepper. I watch as he tears up and steals my Aunt Alicia’s cup of wine.

  “They’re probably just curious, is all,” she says.

  “It was generous of them to stop by. Pay their respects. I’m sure they brought a gift,” says a great uncle of mine as he shuffles behind us. I make a face like really? And he pats me on the cheek. I shrug at Andrew.

  “I suppose,” says my Aunt Alicia.

  I go to share a look with Milo, but I stop. My brother’s turned a deep red and is sitting very stiffly. Huh. What’s his problem. I check to see if Andrew’s done something to offend him, brotherly speaking, but the boy’s just sitting there. Doing a pretty decent job of not looking as baffled as he is.

  “Of course,” my aunt goes on, “after all that’s happened lately, I thought none of them would want to come by. But, I guess not.” She shrugs and smiles.

  “I would have thought the same, Alicia, if Angie’s son had come, but it’s just the young ones. None of them have been directly involved,” says my Aunt Carolina from down the table.

  “No, that’s not true,” says my Uncle St
onington. “Just yesterday I heard that one of those boys that just walked in helped Angie’s son’s son drag the cow almost half-way across the island.”

  “It’s true. All it was doing was grazing over by the beach.”

  “Yeah, one of them had seen him from the water that morning, and Angie couldn’t stand the thought of him being on our side with my cousin’s cow. That’s why she sent a bunch of her grandsons over to get him. I felt sorry for it. He mooed and cried the whole way back. Caused quite a scene on the green. How did you miss it? I saw it all from right over there,” he nods.

  The ladies also nod, variously at him or at their drinks. The poor boy next to me is now sitting in soldier mode. I start wondering how I’m going to get him out of here.

  Then he goes and leans forward. I don’t breathe. My family turns and gives Andrew the polite attention due to a guest. He says, “I’m afraid I don’t follow, having just come here. Something about cows?”

  Diplomatic. Another one for the father.

  “Oh,” “Ah,” “Yes, of course,” my aunts and uncles all sit back. At this point I have two choices. I can either die of embarrassment, or just wait until it’s over. Because there’s no stopping my family when they have something they want to share. Especially when it’s news as good as this.

  “Well, you see, dear,” says my Aunt Alicia, sitting up straight and glancing about for unintended ears.

  “You wouldn’t know, because you’ve only just gotten here, but Angie’s grandson’s been stuck on this bull of his for months now. If you see him, you’ll know why. He’s a very nice bull. Strong. We call him Philbert.”

  Everyone adds their own compliments to Philbert. Even I have to. He is very handsome, as far as bulls go.

  “But the grandson insists that Philbert is his and his alone. He won’t even let him breed with any of our cows, even though that makes no sense. It’s silly not to. If you let him breed, then we can get more like him. I mean, it’s not like the thing will run out of juice.” I cover my eyes, which are already closed. It’s not enough. Because oh, this is wonderful. Let’s have a conversation about sperm. That’s got to be the best first date topic ever. I feel awful for Andrew.

  And myself. I stand and try to take Andrew away. He holds my hand, and pats it.

  I honestly don’t know if I’m more impressed or astonished that this boy isn’t already out the door. Or that he…actually looks like he’s listening. I feel like I’m distracting him with all my cringing and pulling. I try to stand still. Let my hand just rest on his shoulder. It’s a nice shoulder.

  “But you see, what happened the other day is Angie’s grandson found the bull missing, and for some reason he came over to my sister’s house and pounded on the door. Pounded on it, can you believe it?

  “Then he accused her of stealing his bull, and of course she said she did no such thing, but he’s very unreasonable. That’s when he tried to drag the beast back to his own house. Right through my herb garden.” She shakes her head.

  “So, anyways, dear, that’s why we’re all just so surprised they had the nerve to show up here tonight.”

  Yup, that about covers it. Welcome to the islands, Andrew.

  My husband-to-be does well in chuckling along with the others. I, however, think that’s enough for now. I’ll keep working on exposing him to my family’s weirdness a little at a time. Systematic desensitization, they’d call it at the academy. Works wonders on a person.

  “Don’t worry, Andrew. It’s not such a big deal. We’ve just got to do something to keep life here interesting,” I tell him, tugging again. I know they want to keep talking to him, and it’s good they’re all getting along, I guess, but I’d rather he didn’t hear the story about how Groton’s boat ended up covered in cheese quite yet.

  “Come on, let me introduce you to Cassie. Cassandra,” I say.

  Thank the Merciful Virgin Mother, the boy gets up and follows me from the table.

 
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