I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, Marissa and Marcos try to downplay their own problems at the family dinner at Zocalo…
< Read Chapter Ten | Read Chapter Twelve >
Join my email list to get my weekly newsletter
with notifications of new chapters.
Chapter Eleven
Dinner Party Mash-Up
Dave and Marcos dropped their car off at a parking garage and walked down Liestal Alley, past the bike repair shop and the Old Soul Coffee Shop. Marcos bit his lip. “Remember, not a word to Marissa about our troubles.”
Dave zipped his lips. “Mum’s the word.”
Sacramento was big on the idea of “activating” its midtown and downtown alleys, and had given each one a name corresponding to the nearest “letter” street to the north. Thus Liestal for L street, Jazz for J, Matsui for M (which was really Capitol down here, but Marcos had always thought of it as one of the letter streets).
He was a bit confused about Liestal. Sacramento was known for its Jazz festival, and Matsui was a local politician’s last name, so those made sense, but when he’d looked up Liestal, all he’d found was a city in Switzerland. “Why Liestal?”
Dave chuckled. “You always forget. It’s one of Sacramento’s sister cities.”
“‘One of’? How many do we have?”
“Last I checked? Maybe a dozen. Hey, watch it!” He pulled Marcos back from the street as a red Mini roared by and swung into the last free spot in front of Zocalo.
“Crap.” Marcos stared at the car, sweat breaking out across his forehead. “Was that…?”
“Yeah, I think so. You okay? She nearly took your kneecaps off.”
“Not to mention my nose.” He’d been worried about his adopted daughter, but apparently she wasn’t so concerned about him. He stormed across the street. “Marissa!”
She was just getting out of the car, having snagged a spot right in front of Zocalo. “Oh, hey there.” The smile that blossomed across her face at seeing him softened his anger.
“Didn’t you see us? You almost ran me over!”
She flushed scarlet. “I’m so sorry. I dropped my phone and I—”
“You were using your phone while you were driving?” His ire rose once again.
“Not exactly. Just the GPS.” Marissa looked miserable.
“Hey, go easy on the kid. No harm done.” Dave clapped him on the shoulder.
In other words, I made my point. Given that her mother had been killed in exactly the same way… “Just… be more careful next time.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks, Papa.”
His heart melted. She’d seemed a bit distant of late, and he was looking forward to finding out why. “Well, let’s get inside. It’s hot out here.” He took her hand, and they squeezed past the other car—a white Tesla, of course, as they were everywhere these days—and went inside.
“Wonder if Carmelina and Daniele are here yet.” Dave looked around the restaurant. It was warm and inviting—an old converted car dealership that had kept the open, bright feel of the roll-up doors, but with windows instead of steel. Raised rows of plants and pottery ran down the two wings in front of a lively bar, and a huge stone basin held hundreds of cut flowers floating on water. A cheer went up from the counter, where a soccer game was in progress on four flatscreen TVs.
Marissa checked her phone. “Not yet. They just passed Sutter Park.”
“Arrivo!” he and Dave said together. An old joke—the Italians had a habit of promising they were arriving any minute now, even when they were a half-hour away.
“Do you have a reservation?” The handsome young host—Iggy, by his nametag—looked like he was ten.
Hazard of growing older. “Yes. Ramirez, party of five. Can you let Ben know we’re here?”
“Of course. He has you in the banquet room. This way please.” Iggy led them down the aisle toward the back end of the restaurant, through a red velvet curtain and into the area often used for private parties. It was mostly closed off, with just a table for the five of them.
Dave raised his eyebrow.
Marcos winked at his husband. “It’s all in who you know.”
“You guys must be important.” Iggy’s eyes darted from one to another, as if he might be able to figure out who they were, if he just looked hard enough.
“We go way back with Ben.” Marcos sat down next to Dave, and Marissa took one of the end chairs.
“Of course. Your server will be right with you.” Iggy took one last look at them and vanished, and they had the big room all to themselves.
“Oooh, I want the Enchiladas Guanajuato.” Marissa was already scanning the menu, almost drooling.
“Good choice.” He tried not to stare at her. Since she’d left for college, she didn’t come around all that often. “So… how’s the new job?”
She looked up at him, and then quickly back down at the menu. “Ssaallite.”
“What?” Marcos frowned.
“I said ‘it’s all right’.” She frowned and went back to the menu.
I’m the one who should be annoyed. “Are they treating you well?”
She sighed. “Yes, Papa.” This time she met his gaze, a mischievous smile playing across her lips. “How’s your business doing?”
He looked down at his menu and muttered. “Ssaallite.”
Dave intervened. “How about them River Cats?”
Marcos laughed. “Do you even know what a River Cat is?”
“I imagine it’s something like an otter …”
Marissa laughed, and the tension was broken. “No, it’s a baseball team. But you already knew that.”
“Did not.” But his eyes twinkled. “So, are you seeing anyone?” Dave asked the question that every young single person dreaded hearing from their family.
She surprised them. “Not right now. I did meet a pretty girl the other day.”
“Oooh, do tell.” Dave, being the husband of the guy who was technically Marissa’s father now, could get away with more than he could, apparently.
“She’s pretty. Whip-smart. A waitress, but working her way through school…” She looked down, her fingers curling around the edges of the menu. “She might be too good for me.”
Marcos frowned. “No one is too good for you. Why would you say that?” Marissa was amazing. She had pulled herself out of homelessness and excelled in college. Now she had a place of her own and a good job.
“It’s nothing. Just—”
“You made it!” Ben popped into the room. He had a smile on his face, but there was a smoky sadness beneath it that tinged his skin gray. It ran deep into his soul.
It had been two years since Ella’s death. Hence the family dinner at Zocalo, instead of at Ragazzi. Marissa had wanted to check in on him.
She must have seen it too. She leapt up and threw her arms around him. “It’s good to see you.” She squeezed him so hard his eyes bulged out.
“Hey, easy! I need those ribs. And good to see you too,” Ben managed when she let go. “Where’s Carmelina?”
Marcos grinned. The brassy Italian American was conspicuous in her absence. “She’s on her way. Have time to sit with us for a couple minutes?”
Ben shook his head. “I wish I did. I’ll stop by again in a bit, though. Buen provecho!” He slipped away behind the curtain.
“I’m worried about him.” Marissa took her seat, staring after their friend.
“He’s had a rough coupla years.” Marcos shuddered, thinking of what it would be like to lose Dave. He couldn’t imagine it. Things were difficult, sure, but they’d find their way through.
“Arrivo!” Carmelina appeared, with Daniele in tow.
“Arrivo!” the others repeated, their laughter breaking up the somber mood.
She took the other end seat as if it were a throne. “So, what did I miss?”
< Read Chapter Ten | Read Chapter Twelve >
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.