I could scarcely believe my eyes or my ears. Laz had done it! He’d actually made some progress in reforming the bird. Guido looked up at me, and I could almost sense him smiling. Wow! Looked like God had really done a work on the bird. He’d had his “come to Jesus” meeting, just like Laz.
Suddenly I could hardly wait to talk to Mama. Between Patti-Lou’s happy news and the bird’s encounter with the Lord, we had some partying to do!
Minutes later, fully dressed, I located my mother in the living room, reading her Bible. I hated to interrupt her but couldn’t resist the temptation. I decided to start with Guido and shift to Patti-Lou afterward.
“Can I ask you a question about the bird?”
“Sure.” She looked over with a wrinkled brow. “Wait. What’s the deal with the cowboy boots and jeans? This is the third time this week.”
“Oh, I dunno . . .” I stared down at my feet. “They’re really comfortable. Don’t know how I lived without them for so long.”
“Mm-hmm.” She grinned, then asked, “What about Guido?”
“Did you know that he’s—”
“Singing praise songs?” She smiled. “Yes, I heard him attempt ‘Amazing Grace’ this morning. Not bad, but he changed keys a couple of times.”
“Actually, I was referring to the Scripture I just heard him quote.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “You can thank Earline Neeley for that. And your uncle, of course. He jumped right on board with her plan. He played those ‘Taming the Tongue’ CDs nonstop, you know, starting the day of the wedding. And now he’s making Guido listen to the Bible on CD.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but we almost lost him in Leviticus and Numbers. Laz ended up skipping right through to Deuteronomy, I think.”
After a chuckle, I admitted something that had been weighing on me. “You know, Mama, I had my doubts about that bird. I’m ashamed to admit it now.”
Mama rested her Bible in her lap, then looked at me, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you so surprised, Bella? You’ve seen God do some pretty amazing things over the years.”
After a shrug, I decided to come clean. “I think I’m just trying to figure out how he works—God, not the bird.”
My mother laughed, then looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “If you get that figured out, let me know. In the meantime, just trust him. He’s got things under control, even the things we can’t see. Or maybe I should say
especially
the things we can’t see. Oh, and speaking of miracles . . . you might want to take a peek inside the kitchen.”
“Oh?” I shuffled my way into the kitchen, the pointed toes of my boots leading the way. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the Burton kid eating one of Rosa’s homemade garlic twists. She stood next to him, reading something from a piece of paper. To her left, Pop’s basketball sat on the countertop, with the skateboard nearby.
At first I pretended to go about my business. I snagged a soda from the fridge. Popped it open and poured it over a glass of ice. Grabbed a cookie. Settled onto a barstool. Watched Rosa and the boy, hoping one of them would eventually offer up an explanation. Instead, the kid kept chomping, pausing only to mutter an occasional “This is really good,” at which point Rosa would hand him another twist and smile.
Finally, I could take it no more. “So, what happened?” I stared them both down. “The lawsuit’s off?”
“Lawsuit?” Rosa laughed and clasped her hands together at her chest. “There was never a lawsuit. Right, Dakota?”
Ah. So he has a name. He’s not just “the Burton kid” after all.
I looked at the kid for his response. He shrugged, then spoke with a full mouth. “I thought my letter sounded pretty good, though, didn’t you?”
She nodded, then handed him another chunk of bread.
“Wait a minute.” I felt my blood begin to boil. “You wrote that letter?”
He shrugged and muttered a hesitant “Yeah.”
“Your dad didn’t write it?”
Dakota flashed an impish grin. “Nah. He doesn’t even know about it.”
I stared him down, my temper rising. “You’re telling me your parents aren’t mad at us?”
“Nope.” He took another bite. “In fact, I heard my mom say she was wondering why none of the neighbors had stopped by to welcome us to the neighborhood.” He flashed a sly smile. “Maybe you should do that. I feel kind of sorry for her. She’s looking a little lonely.”
“I’ll do that.”
After I strangle you!
“Her name is Phoebe, by the way. And my dad’s name is Bart.”
“But, what about the police?” I asked. “Who called them the night of the wedding?”
Dakota raised his hand, then turned back to his food, not even flinching.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You led us to believe—”
“Yeah, I know, I know.” He looked up at me with a broad grin, likely meant to win me over.
“He wrote the most wonderful apology letter.” Rosa shoved the piece of paper my way, and I stared in awe when I saw he’d written it in both English and Italian, just as she’d demanded.
“How in the world did you . . . ?”
He shrugged and took another bite, then spoke around the mouthful of food. “I went to one of those translator sites online. It’s pretty cool what you can do on the Internet.”
“Yeah, like figure out how to word a lawsuit letter.”
“Oh, I didn’t get that from the Web.” He grabbed a glass of tea and took a swallow. After wiping his mouth, he explained, “I just borrowed one from my dad’s office. He’s a lawyer, you know.”
I counted to ten silently before responding. “Yes, I know. Apparently you’ll make a good one too. Someday.”
Shrugging, he said, “Maybe,” then shoveled another piece of bread into his mouth.
“So, um . . . what won you over?” I asked. “Did Rosa wear you down?”
“Yeah, but not like you’re thinking.” He paused, and I could read the embarrassment in his eyes.
“Oh?” I turned to my aunt.
“It was the bread,” she explained.
“I just couldn’t take it anymore.” Dakota sighed. “It almost killed me. Every day I’d smell that garlic bread baking, and before long . . . I cracked.”
“Aha.”
“Couldn’t take it anymore. Had to get some or die trying.”
“That explains what happened the other morning.”
“Hey, I can’t be blamed for that,” he said. “She left the back door unlocked when she took the trash out. I was just following my nose.”
Rosa patted him on the back. “I forgive you for everything, Dakota. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell your parents they’re invited to our house for dinner tomorrow night. I’m making manicotti.”
When he nodded, she turned to me and whispered,
“Cane che abbaia non morde.”
Dakota looked up at me, a worried look on his face. “What does that mean?”
“She says ‘the dog that barks doesn’t bite.’”
“Huh?” His face contorted.
“Basically, your bark is worse than your bite,” I explained. “She’s saying you’re a pushover. She thinks she had you the whole time.”
“Ah.” He nodded and tore off another piece of bread, shoveled it in his mouth, and said, “Maybe she did.”
“Would you like to help me cook dinner, Dakota?” Rosa asked. “We’re having chicken parmesan and fettuccini tonight. I can teach you how to make the Alfredo sauce from scratch if you like.”
His eyes widened, and he nodded. “Sure. Why not.”
I left the kitchen with my drink in hand, marveling at what the Lord had done in such a short period of time. He’d saved the bird, restored Rosa’s relationship with the neighbors, and found Patti-Lou a mate. And a cowboy, no less!
If God could do all of that in an afternoon, I could only imagine what adventures the evening would hold!
You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You
Later that night, Rosa served dinner—not in the kitchen as usual, but in the dining room. With Deany-boy and Frankie at church camp, this was an adults-only night. And we were an even-numbered group, what with Sophia being away on a mystery date. She’d had a couple of those lately but wouldn’t spill the beans about who she was seeing. I secretly wondered if she hesitated to introduce him because her heart was still given over to Tony. Only time would tell.
Pop took up residence at the head of the big table with Mama to his right. Laz sat at the other end. D.J. and I took our places to Mama’s right. Joey and his new girlfriend, Norah, sat across from us, their faces beaming. They had that “we’re just so happy we found each other” look. I understood all too well. Likely D.J. and I still had the same look on our faces. Down a little farther, Marcella’s face also glowed as Nick—in an uncharacteristic way—pulled out a chair for her. Something about that just felt . . . fishy.
Stranger still, as soon as my aunt finished carrying in bowls of food, my uncle rose and pulled out her chair. Pop coughed—probably to keep from saying something about it. I bit my tongue as well. As Rosa took her seat, we all held hands to pray. My father’s voice trembled as he thanked the Lord for his family and for all of the many blessings of late. I gave D.J.’s hand a squeeze under the table, realizing just what a blessing he’d been in my life.
Thank you, Lord! You’ve been too good to me!
After the prayer, I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat as I noticed something more than a little unusual. Rosa. She was wearing makeup. Not just a little lipstick. That would’ve been strange enough. No, she wore blush, eye shadow, and even a bit of mascara. And she’d done something different with her hair. I must’ve stared a bit too long because she caught my eye and gave me a little wink. I thought I heard my mother whisper the words,
“Finché c’è vita c’è speranza.”
I mouthed a silent “Amen to that” in response.
Within seconds the table came alive with conversation. Rosa passed the fettuccini to my pop. He scooped a hearty serving onto his plate and started to dive in when my mother gave her usual warning. “Cosmo, take your pill.”
“Oh yeah.” He shuffled off to the kitchen to find his lactose intolerance pills. Upon returning, he kissed my mom on the forehead and proclaimed her to be a lifesaver.
Then the feast began. Of all the meals my aunt cooked, I preferred chicken parmesan and fettuccini Alfredo best of all. Something about the creamy parmesan. And her Caesar salad was the best. D.J. seemed to like it too. Of course, he’d learned to love most every sort of Italian food.
As we ate, Joey and Norah told us all about their day at Moody Gardens. Afterward Laz went on about how Bubba had become a permanent fixture at the restaurant, then Rosa talked a mile a minute about “that precious boy from across the street who only needed someone to show him the love of the Lord.”
I kept a watchful eye on Nick and Marcella, who occasionally joined in, but more often than not spent the meal staring at each other and smiling.
Finally I could stand it no longer. I stared at my sister-in-law until she finally looked my way.
“W-what, Bella?” Her cheeks flushed.
“Something’s up.”
“Oh?” Her gaze shot to Nick, who shrugged and grinned. “What makes you say that?”
“You two are up to something,” I said. “Are you plotting to move away and leave the kids with us to raise or something? What’s all the grinning about?”
“Well . . .” She looked at Nick once more, and they both grinned ear to ear. “We, um . . . we do have an announcement.” The minute my mother started panting, she quickly added, “We’re not moving away from the island. Don’t worry, don’t worry.”
“It’s nothing like that,” Nick said. “We’re staying in Galveston for sure.”
“What then?” I asked.
Marcella shrugged. “We’re looking at a new house. A bigger house.”
“Bigger?” Pop laughed. “That house is plenty big enough for the four of you. And the market’s not good right now. You should wait till interest rates go down.” He went off on a tangent about the current economy, but Mama and I looked at each other, understanding Marcella’s full meaning. There could be only one reason they needed a bigger house.
I hated to interrupt my father but couldn’t help myself. “Y-you’re having a baby?”
When Marcella nodded, the ceiling blew off the room. Well, close. Rosa began to sob—in a good way—and shared the news with any and all saints who might be listening. Mama promptly proclaimed the baby would be a girl and started verbally decorating the nursery. Laz countered by saying the baby would be a boy and that he would put him to work in the restaurant. Pop brought up something about the cost of sending a child to college. D.J. beamed ear to ear and offered congratulations to the happy couple. And Joey and Norah raised their glasses to offer a toast. Seconds later, we all joined them.
“To the baby, and to the happy parents!” Joey said.
“To the baby, and to the happy parents!” we all echoed.
The conversation around the dinner table really took off after that. The voices layered on top of each other, creating a rhythmic motion in the room, and I found myself caught up in it.
After the meal, D.J. and I retreated to the swing on the veranda. The evening breeze off the gulf caught us in its embrace, and I smiled as I pushed a loose hair out of my eyes. As we settled onto the cushioned swing, D.J. turned my way and whispered, “There’s something I want to tell you.”
“What? Did Aunt Rosa hurt your feelings with that comment about your brother’s dog? I told her not to mention it, but she—”
“No, Bella, listen.”
“Are you worried about what Laz said about your brother showing up at the restaurant so much? ’Cause if you are, you can relax. He really likes Bubba now. I know, because he told me that—”
“Bella, stop.” D.J. pulled me near, and I leaned my head against his shoulder and relaxed. “I want to tell you that . . . I love you.”
My heart shot straight up from my chest to my throat, and I barreled to an upright position. “You what?”
“I love you.” He ran the tip of his finger along the edge of my cheek. I leaned into his palm and tried to slow my racing heart.
He loves me!
I felt like a shy schoolgirl as I whispered, “I love you too.” Oh, the joy that flooded over me as those words escaped. I’d held them captive for weeks, and now they were free to dance, to sing. D.J. leaned close, and my heart swelled as he traced my cheek with kisses. Seconds later his lips met mine, and we shared a kiss for the record books. I could practically see the sparklers now.