“Oh no! Sophia!” I clamped a hand over my mouth and stared at Rob and Marian.
Brock immediately rose to his feet and slipped behind the door. When Sophia stepped inside, she saw only the bride and groom, who by now were playing it cool. I could tell from the heat in my cheeks that I was flushed, but I hoped she would write it off to the weather.
Though Sophia had sounded plenty impatient seconds earlier, she smiled as she took in my guests. “Hi, everyone. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” She turned to me, giving me super-secret coded messages with her eyes, messages I could not mistake. “Bella, I just wanted to let you know that Rosa’s getting anxious. Mama wants the whole family at the dinner table at six, and that includes you and D.J.” She swept a loose dark hair behind her ear and nodded, as if that settled everything.
“Oh, well, I, um—”
“Oh, that’s too bad!” Marian said. “We’re actually headed out to dinner, and Bella’s going along for the ride.”
“I—I am?” I looked at her, startled.
“Well, sure. We still have a few things to discuss pertaining to the wedding. We can’t do this without you.”
Yikes
. “I see.” My thoughts shifted into overdrive. How could I make this work? I’d have to call D.J., of course. He would understand. But Rosa . . . now that was a different story. I gave my sister what I hoped would be taken as a sorrowful look. “Sorry, but I guess I’ll have to give Aunt Rosa a rain check.”
“She’s going to murder you in your sleep.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “You know how she is about her food. If you don’t show up . . .”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. Sorry. Business before pleasure and all that.”
“I guess you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.” My sister gave me a curious look—probably due to my less than enthusiastic response—then took another step into the room, smiling in Marian and Rob’s direction. “So, how’s the wedding planning coming? I heard all about this castle you’re getting married in. Sounds amazing. Are you two ready to ride off into the sunset on white horses?”
“Y-yes.” Marian nodded, then shifted her gaze to Brock, who stood tightly pressed behind the door. Probably by now the Hollywood hunk could barely breathe. Still, he managed to keep things under control. Looked like all of that on-the-set training was working to his advantage. Besides, these Hollywood types probably hid behind all sorts of doors to get away from flighty fans.
Just then—and I watched this in slow motion from the best seat in the house, so I got the full effect—Brock put his hand up to his nose and began that heaving motion that comes right before a person sneezes. I watched him bob his head three or four times in total silence. Then, when he blew . . . he blew. I’d never heard anyone sneeze that loudly before. The jolt caused the door to shoot back, knocking Sophia a good foot or two from where she’d started.
“W-what in the world?” She pulled the door forward. “Just what do you think you’re—”
That was it. We lost her after that. Sophia took one look at Brock Benson and turned into a babbling idiot. She began to rant—in perfect Italian—about the man who now stood before her. To his credit, Brock stepped from behind the door, took her hand, and kissed it. I’d never actually seen anyone swoon before, but I’m pretty sure Sophia did. And then Brock did the unthinkable. He responded to her—in perfect Italian.
Oy, were we in trouble!
My sister’s cheeks flushed, and she began to fuss with her long mane of hair. “What are you . . . ? I mean, how are you . . . ? And why are you . . . ?” She tried multiple times and multiple ways to get her questions out, but it just wasn’t happening. Still, it was fun to watch her try. Made me wish I had a video camera going so I could replay it for her later.
“Brock Benson.” He continued to hold her hand as he introduced himself.
I could see her hand shaking in his, but he didn’t seem to mind. Likely he got this a lot. “Sophia Rossi,” she managed. After a few more seconds of staring, she finally turned to me. “Th-this is like some sort of a miracle! But, h-how did it happen?” she whispered. “Do the others know?”
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Rob said with a shrug. “Brock is the first knight in our wedding.”
“First knight?” Sophia’s brow wrinkled.
“Best man,” Rob said. “But we’d planned to keep it a secret.”
“We
will
keep it a secret,” I echoed, giving Sophia a warning look. “We’ll go to our graves with this secret.”
She crossed her heart and held up two fingers. “Girl Scouts’ honor.” The whole room hung in suspended silence for a good thirty seconds while my sister stared at the handsome man in front of her. Thankfully, he seemed to take it in stride.
I wanted to ask the girl to close her mouth. To tell her that she looked a little silly. But I held my tongue.
“H-how are you going to do this?” she asked me at last. “Is he staying on the island?”
“Yes. We’re putting both Rob and Brock up at the Tremont for the next week. It’s a lovely hotel, and I really think they’ll like it.”
“The Tremont?” Sophia shook her head. “They can’t stay there, Bella. You know that.”
“Sure they can. They’ve already got a room waiting.”
“But don’t you remember?” My sister turned to Brock, batting her eyelashes. “The Grand Opera production of
The
Marriage of Figaro
is this weekend, and most of our out-of-town guests are staying at the Tremont.” Sophia turned back to me. “D.J.’s parents are coming down from Splendora and bringing several of their church ladies with them, remember?
They’re all staying at the same hotel because they want to be close to each other. And the Tremont is the closest hotel to the opera house.”
“Oh man!” How could I have forgotten that half the town of Splendora was coming for Bubba’s debut? His mama— Earline—would be there, along with half the congregation of Splendora’s Full Gospel Chapel in the Pines. Likely the whole of east Texas would show up to support him. And they were all staying at the Tremont! How had I forgotten that teeny-tiny detail?
Easy. My mind was on a thousand other things.
“Opera?” Brock’s eyes lit up. “I love the opera. And
The
Marriage of Figaro
is one of my favorites.”
Great. Wonderful. This was getting better by the minute. I dropped down into my chair, slapping myself in the head. “What are we going to do?”
“Oh, I’m sure we can find another place,” Rob said with a wave of his hand. “Marian managed to find a condo for rent. There’s got to be another one available. Or maybe we can rent a bed-and-breakfast somewhere.”
“Or . . .” Sophia’s eyes lit up, and her perfectly arched eyebrows elevated in anticipation. “You guys can stay at our place next door.”
I looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Our place?” A house already filled to overflowing with a large Italian family, a disobedient Yorkie-Poo, and a parrot that cursed at strangers in between verses of “Amazing Grace”? No way! I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone a Hollywood star.
“Sure, why not?” Sophia said. “Nick’s room is empty, and so is Armando’s now that he’s living in Houston again. Besides, Joey would probably love the company. He’s always complaining about how there’s too much estrogen in the house.”
“Too much estrogen in the house.” Rob shuddered as he repeated the words, then looked at Brock and laughed. What was up with that? Was the groom-to-be hoping to find a fair lady for his best man while here on the island? If so, he’d better look elsewhere! I was already taken. And Sophia . . .
Hmm. I looked at the hopeful expression on my sister’s face and paused. She wasn’t exactly taken, though my ex-boyfriend Tony certainly had his eye on her.
Still bubbling, Sophia looked my way. “Bella, you know they’ll love Aunt Rosa’s cooking.” She turned to Brock and began to sing our aunt’s praises, going on and on about her amazing Italian cuisine. I’m pretty sure we had him at the words
chicken parmesan
.
Not that I blamed him. There was something about the mention of Italian food that did most of us in, and I particularly loved it when Aunt Rosa cooked chicken parmesan. It made the whole house smell delicious and was incredibly tasty. Perfect for an evening like this, when the world was imploding.
“We’ve got plenty of room,” Sophia added, clearly oblivious to my ponderings. “Besides, Mama’s busy with the opera, so she’ll hardly even notice they’re there.”
With a shake of my head, I began to explain all of the reasons this wouldn’t work. However, I barely got three words into my dissertation before Brock looked my way with a nod. “Actually, Bella, it sounds good to me. I always feel safer staying in a home than in a hotel. There’s less risk involved.”
“Less risk?” Obviously Brock Benson hadn’t met the Rossis. He had no idea what he was agreeing to. Nor did he seem to care.
Brock laughed. “The idea of a good home-cooked meal is almost too much to pass up. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had homemade Italian food?” He explained that his midday meals were most often brought in by caterers, and his evening meals were almost always in some swanky L.A. restaurant. Never good home cooking. Then he went off on a tangent about how much he missed sitting around the dinner table in a family environment. How could I argue with that?
“What do you think, Bella?” Marian gave me a hopeful look. “Is the Rossi bed-and-breakfast open for business? It’s just a week and a half, after all.”
“Just a week and a half,” I echoed. “I . . . I . . .” Glancing into Brock’s eyes, I found myself saying, “I’ll ask Mama, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Awesome!” Brock said. He turned to Rob with a smile. “See, I told you this was going to work out.”
“I guess I could stay at the Tremont,” Rob said with a shrug. “And you could stay here.”
“No way.” Brock shook his head. “Skip the hotel, Rob. I came to Texas to hang out with my best friend. We’ll both stay at their place.”
“I . . . I guess.” Rob’s pursed lips let me know his take on this. Surely he hadn’t planned to spend the week before his wedding living in a house with the rowdiest family on Galveston Island. I had a feeling he was going along with this to make Brock happy. In fact, I had a feeling Brock Benson usually got his way in things. He just schmoozed folks until he got what he wanted. Quite a talent. Had he learned that in Hollywood, or was it some sort of hereditary trait?
“Thank you, Bella.” Brock reached for my hand and kissed it. After I caught my breath, I nodded. He then nodded in Sophia’s direction.
My sister looked as if she’d died and gone to the Hollywood version of heaven. I half expected a piped-in audio of “The Hallelujah Chorus” to fill the room and 3-D angels to appear on the walls.
The bride-to-be turned to me with a look of pure contentment on her face. “Oh, Bella! How can I ever thank you? This is the perfect solution. I’ll sleep so much better knowing Brock is under your roof for the next week.”
She might, but I sure wouldn’t. In fact, I doubted I’d sleep a wink. And how could I tell these fine folks that the Food Network crew would be pulling in with their trucks the day before the wedding? No, I’d better not broach that subject today.
Demo version limitation
Demo version limitation
On Friday morning, D.J.’s mom showed up at our front door unannounced. Now, I’d loved Earline Neeley for as long as I’d known her. All three months, in fact. She’d swept me into the fold and extended the love of Jesus time and time again.
Best of all, she’d entrusted the heart of her son to me, a fact I did not take lightly. Still, I wasn’t sure why she’d chosen to grace us with her presence today. Galveston was a far cry from Splendora.
I stood in the open doorway, trying to decide what to do. If I let her inside, she was sure to see Brock and give away our little secret. However, if I kept her standing on the veranda, she was sure to think I’d lost my mind and might encourage her son to have me committed. We certainly couldn’t have that.
As I stood there toying with my decision, I tried to envision what Brock would make of Earline. She was a darling, no doubt about it, but the woman wasn’t exactly Hollywood material.
Then again, maybe she was. At five foot two and two-hundred-plus pounds, she could easily be a character actor in a TV sitcom. And she certainly had the eclectic personality to warrant the role. Earline was a true-blue Southern lady. And where she came from—Splendora, Texas, just an hour and a half up Highway 59—
Full Gospel
meant
full figured
. In other words, all of the ladies in her little group were on the hefty side, and they all loved the Lord with full abandon.
It’s just that they had more to abandon than most.
I finally ushered Earline into the house and could tell right away that this was a woman on a mission.
Her face paled as she spoke, and her words were a little shaky. “Oh, honey . . . have you seen my boys today?”
I did my best to calm her by keeping my voice steady. “Which one are you looking for, Bubba or D.J.? Or does it matter?”
“Bubba would be best, I suppose.” She fanned herself with her hand as she plopped down on the bench in our front hallway. “I need to talk to him about this opera thing.”
“What about it?” Mama entered the room with a concerned look on her face. “Has something gone wrong? He isn’t sick, is he?”
“Oh no. Nothing like that. This is about me, actually.” She looked up at my mother with tears in her eyes.
Mama’s expression softened. “What about you, honey?”
“Well . . .” Earline sighed. “See now, I don’t get to fancy places much, and I’ll need a dress to wear. I, um . . . well, I thought he might have some idea what sort of getup I’ll need. The first performance is tomorrow, and I’m clueless!”
“Well, why didn’t you say so!” My mama’s face lit up, and she slipped into Mother Teresa mode. “Earline, grab your purse. We’re going to town.”
Now, I knew Mama well enough to know that “going to town” meant going to Houston, about an hour north of the island. I listened in as my mother started her usual conversation about how the two of them were going to travel to Italy together someday. Earline, praise God, got swept up with the idea and linked arms with my mother, content to be heading to town. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, knowing a near-catastrophe had been averted. We’d somehow kept her from noticing Brock. His secret was safe with the Rossi clan.