I screamed, “NO! She is my friend.”
Dad has a small chuckle going in reply to my outburst. I hope he was kidding. Yes, I’m sure of it. Mostly sure.
I yell, “DAD!” as he’s walking down the hallway. He looks over his shoulder and winks at me. OK, Beth is safe.
In all his excitement, Peter came up and got his parents, Beth, and I together at about 4:00 to say that he passed his test with a score of 255, which is an outstanding score.
Ray says, “Damn, that’s an awesome score.”
Winnie hugs him hard, “All those years of training have paid off, just as I expected it to.”
Beth says, “There has been a change of plans for dinner tonight. We had planned on making leftovers. With the expected big news, Cara called home for some advice.”
She lets me finish, “I called my Italian mother for advice. She knows all the old country, authentic recipes. I’m ready to make some dinner.”
As a group, we left early for Peter’s apartment. We’re still fifty feet away when Peter stops.
He looks at me, “Your mother didn’t give you the recipes, did she?”
I grin big and shake my head, “No. Mom was having none of that. Dad came to get the key from me at noon while mom protected her kitchenware and ingredients. I guess there is a crime syndicate around here that specializes in old, well-used cooking equipment. She wasn’t leaving her stuff out of her sight. This is Ness City; I don’t even lock my doors at night.”
We all get a good laugh and then follow our noses. She’s baking; I would know that smell anywhere. An excited Peter is first through the door. Mom turns around to see Peter looking at her in his kitchen. I thought she was going to faint at seeing my handsome friend. Peter must have felt the same; he stepped forward quickly. All that did was make mom stop breathing.
She eventually broke out of her love seizure and ran at me for a big hug. I see a stack of dishes, piles of cookies, cannoli, and an Italian loaf of bread. The water for the noodles and the alfredo sauce are on the stove, simmering. Mom’s been busy. Dad has a small plate of cookies by him. He gets a dirty look from me.
Mom embarrasses the hell out of me. Does she not understand that my friends can hear her?
Mom says in a loud voice, “Wow, Peter is a handsome man. You should fuck him and make him yours.”
Thanks, mom! How the hell do I hide? Fortunately, Peter understands. He hugged me, and naturally that made everything better. I introduce everyone. Winnie wants to help in the kitchen, and Ray and my dad want to split a bottle of wine. Yes, my parents brought some Italian wine with them. That probably was a good idea. The choices around here are poor. They got the good stuff.
Dinner was amazing. It’s been forever since I’ve had mom’s, Fettuccini Alfredo. The Italian loaf of bread made garlic bread. The mountain of desserts went over well. Several people passing by stopped in to see what smelled so good. They all left with a small plate of cannoli and Italian cookies. We still ended up with a pile of leftovers. Several meals were frozen for Peter.
My parents live near the ocean, so a small swimming pool doesn’t impress them. They do come out to see me and mom wants to see more of Peter. Peter, his parents, Beth, and a few others in the building are all swimming. I’m talking to my mom and dad, explaining Peter’s life.
In the end, mom has tears in her eyes and is shaking her head, “I can’t believe how handsome he is. That is one good-looking man. He’s smart, kind, and yet suffering from the worse pain known to man, the loss of his wife and child. I don’t think I would have survived. Did I mention he’s good-looking?”
Dad is annoyed, “Yes, dear. Several times.”
Mom continues, “Beth is the other woman that likes him?” I nod my head. “She’s pretty. I bet she’s smart as well. Peter has no time for a dumb woman. He wants an equal or better. Too soon for him to decide on a wife?”
I have tears in my eyes, “Oh yes. He was so in love that it would be a while. He looks happy, but there’s still lots of pain deep down. He’s open and working hard. He doesn’t do anything but laundry with less than 100% effort. He’s not big on cooking and laundry. Cleaning and organizing, he gets an A+.”
Mom gives me her look, “I know you’re not asking, but I like him. He’s a nice young man that cares. I can see that he loves you. He loves Beth as well, be careful. Mind you; I’m not worried about you. Of all our children, you’re the most level-headed. I know you’ll do what’s right.”
Dad scares me when he says, “We’re staying an extra day. Something has come up, and I want to see how it plays out.”
My anger has risen, “Are you putting us in danger?”
Dad pats me on the head, “No, pumpkin. I know more than I should, so I can’t say anything. Nobody is in danger. This is what you would call … a learning opportunity. I want to see the events unfold and see the results. It will tell me a lot about you and your friends.”
I certainly don’t like the sounds of this. Suddenly, I don’t feel well. In an Italian family, bad news is not taken well; it’s often linked to death. Our family hasn’t experienced it firsthand, but enough cousins and extended family have died suspicious deaths or spent years in jail. I understand entirely why dad didn’t want us following him in the “family” business.
Peter and Beth are soon at my side. They see the stress and fear in me. They’re both concerned. That warms my heart to see their concern even with them distracted by his parents. He’s been keeping an eye on me. I feel much better; they can see that and leave me alone.
Mom hugs me from behind, wrapping her arms around me, “That was impressive. You have marvelous friends. You’re going to be fine, no matter what happens.”
We shared Italian cookies and Cannoli with the others. They were blown away by my mother’s cooking. Soon after that, it got dark. My parents and I went back to my place while Beth and Peter’s family returned to his. I got a great kiss from Peter to close out my evening.
Chapter 13 — Served
Point of view Peter:
I am woken up bizarrely this morning. I was tired last night and fell asleep before Beth got in bed. I have my arm around Beth, my hand is cupping her breast, yet I am woken up by Cara kissing me sensually. That scrambled my brain, causing them both to giggle.
Cara says softly, “Both moms are making a mountain of food in the kitchen. Sticky buns, scrambled eggs, sausage, frittata, and biscotti. Your mom is making the sticky buns, eggs, and sausage. We have enough for about twenty people.” She’s laughing at the insane amount of food.
I say, “We’ll take a shower and meet you for breakfast.”
Cara stands up and steps back, so I can get out of bed.
I am more informational this time, “WE are naked and need a shower.”
Saying “We” woke Cara up. She doesn’t mind seeing me naked, but she and Beth aren’t THAT good of friends. She leaves the room giggling.
As we get out of bed, Beth comments, “That could have taken our friendship to a whole new level.”
Peter snorts, “We’ll see, but definitely NOT while both sets of parents are here.” The mind boggles with possibilities!