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, Carmelina and Marissa have a grandmother-granddaughter heart-to-heart (and an Italian recipe!)…
< Read Chapter 28 Pt Two | Read Chapter 30 >
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
At the Kitchen Sink
Carmelina pulled out her stack of assorted platters—some glass, some plastic, one an antique -her great grandmother had once owned. She pulled out a Tupperware container full of hors d’oeuvres she’d made for the party.
Well, not a party, so much. But not really a wake, either. A celebration of life.
Brad had been a good man. A kind man. She’d seen how he cared about the kids at the Center, including Marissa, the young girl—young woman now—who had turned out to be her granddaughter. She was forever in his debt.
She stared out the window at her driveway and the front yard. The band of turkeys that had stopped them on the way to Effie Yaw nature center earlier in the day had made it around to her street, and they were slowly crossing the concrete, heads bobbing and shifting back and forth, on the lookout for trouble.
One of them hopped up onto the crossbeam of the rustic split rail fence that separated her driveway from the grassy circle at the corner. It hopped down to join the others, pecking for whatever it was that the skinny wild turkeys ate for lunch. “Damned messy pests.” They tended to shit all over her driveway, and often made a mess of her flowerbeds too, clawing out the bark in their search for food.
And yet, there was something magnificent about seeing actual wildlife in her own front yard.
“Mind if I help?” Marissa appeared at her side as if summoned by her thoughts.
“Sure. Wanna pick out three platters?” She indicated the stack.
“Of course.” Marissa leaned her head on Carmelina’s shoulder, her arm squeezing her nonna’s waist. Then she sorted through them, choosing an oval green glass one that had been Carmelina’s sister’s, a wooden one she’d bought at the Crocker Holiday Market just down the street at the Scottish Rites Center, and finally a ceramic one covered with bright yellow lemons and bright green leaves.
Carmelina smiled at the memory. “Arthur and I bought that one on the Amalfi Coast in 2005.”
Marissa ran her hand over the shiny surface. “It’s beautiful.”
“They make the best limoncello there.”
Behind them, Sam, Oscar, Marcos, Ricki and his new boyfriend—Alyn, was it?—were gathered around her kitchen table, deep into a conversation about RuPaul’s Drag Race and who was the greatest contestant of all time.
My money’s on Vangie.
Carmelina opened the large Tupperware container.
“Oooh, what are those?” Marissa leaned in to take a sniff.
“They’re called fagottini di bresaola ai funghi—what a name, right? They’re basically dried salted beef and mushrooms on a cracker with some fresh goat cheese. Do me a favor and grab me the bunch of leaf lettuce in the crisper.” She’d washed and dried it earlier and stored it between paper towels.
“Sure thing, nonna.” Marissa was a good kid. Bright, hard-working, and kind to everyone.
She returned with the leaf lettuce.
“Arrange them like this…” Carmelina showed her how to make a nice bed of lettuce to showcase the appetizers.
“Got it.”
They worked side by side, and soon had the platters full. Carmelina gave them a once-over. “Perfect.”
Daniele was out back, firing up the barbeque. They’d spend the evening with friends, and then finish getting ready for their trip.
She was packed for the morning flight, and had made all the necessary arrangements for her absence. They were shutting down Pane e Tulipani for the week, and Sam had agreed to look after the house while he was there.
Marissa sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring out the window at the turkeys.
“They make me crazy, but there’s something magnificent about them, isn’t there?” Carmelina washed her hands, then dried them on a red-and-white checkered hand towel.
“What?” Marissa blinked. “Oh, the turkeys. Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.” She blushed.
“You okay, micina?” My little kitten.
Marissa cocked her head, staring sideways at Carmelina. “Nonna, am I a bad person?”
It was Carmelina’s turn to blink in surprise. “Of course you’re not. Whatever would make you say such a thing?”
Marissa looked away, her gaze falling to the sudsy water in the sink. “When I was with Gio… I… cheated on him.” She gripped the edge of the sink tightly.
“Oh tesoro.” Carmelina put her arms around Marissa and pulled her close. How long have you been carrying this around in your heart? “Of course that doesn’t make you a bad person. We all make mistakes.”
“Really?” Marissa sniffled into her blouse, shaking a little.
“Really. Did I ever tell you about Oliver Greenhorn?” God, I haven’t thought about Ollie in years.
Marissa let her go and looked up into her eyes. “I don’t think so.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling.
“I was in high school. I was dating this guy named Johnny Walker—really! He was on the football team. He was handsome, and that was all that mattered.” Blue eyes, dark hair slicked back, and those muscles! “Sometimes he forgot to call me—this was way before cell phones. Sometimes he acted like an asshole after his team lost a game. But he was mine, and all my friends were jealous.”
Marissa giggled. “It’s hard to picture you in high school, Nonna.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Hey! Just because I’m about to start collecting Social Security… but don’t distract me. I have a hard enough time keeping my stories on track.” She closed her eyes, picturing Ollie. “Oliver was everything Johnny was not. Sweet, kind, an Academic Decathlon team member. He was artistic—”
Marissa snorted. “He sounds gay.”
She thought about it. “He probably was. But at the time, all I saw was that he was funny and cute… and he had a crush on me. So one night, I asked him over to… study.”
Her granddaughter’s eyes went wide. “What happened?”
“We fumbled about a bit, and eventually… well, you know. Neither of us was very good at it. Now that I think about it, you’re probably right about the gay thing!” It explained a lot. “When it was over, he made some excuse and left. I felt like a jezebel…”
“What’s that?”
“An old bible word for cheater or whore.” She winked. “I told my own grandmother, eventually, and you know what she said?”
“That you were a slut?” Marissa grinned.
“No. She said that everyone screws up, and the important thing is what you learn from your mistakes. I thought about it for a long time and realized that I didn’t love Johnny. He didn’t deserve someone as good as me. And sure, it would have been better if I had broken up with him before putting poor Ollie through that. But it taught me what I did deserve.” Arthur had known how to make her feel loved and valued. She owed that understanding of herself to that night with Ollie.
Marissa looked down at her hands. “So… I’m not a bad person?”
“You did something you probably shouldn’t have, in a perfect world. But we all know this Earth isn’t that.” She brushed back Marissa’s hair from her face. “So what did you learn?”
Marissa frowned. “That it just wasn’t right. Gio was sweet and kind and funny… like Ollie—”
“Are you saying he’s gay?”
She laughed. “No. Definitely not. But there was just… something missing.”
Carmelina took Marissa’s hands in hers. “Does this new girl have… whatever it is?”
Marissa bit her lip. “Not sure yet. Maybe?”
“Well, at least you’ll have fun finding out.” She leaned over and kissed Marissa’s cheek. “Don’t keep the poor girl waiting. She hardly knows anyone else here.” She gestured at the platters. “Be a dear and take those out to each of the tables. Then spend a little time with your date.” She kissed Marissa on the forehead.
“Thanks, Nonna.” Marissa hugged her. “I love you.” Then she was off delivering appetizers.
Carmelina put away the rest of the platters, her arms a little shakier than they’d once been.
She was lucky to have a relationship with the girl. It would never make up for the loss of her own daughter. How could it? But Marissa was a bright spot in her life.
“Nicely done.”
She froze. She knew that voice, but that was… impossible.
She turned to find Brad there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You… you’re not here.” She must have taken too much of her blood pressure medication, or… something.
He chuckled. “I’m getting that a lot.”
“Where did everyone go?” She squeezed past him and ran to the door that led to the living room and dining area. The house was empty.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
“They can’t see me. I’m here for you.”
She turned on him. “What the fuck, Brad? Why did you have to go and die on poor Sam like that?” Since her hallucination refused to disappear, she figured it was better to deal with it—him—head-on.
“Not my choice.” He splayed his hands, palms up, in front of him, and if a ghost could show emotion, she would have sworn he was sad. “But that’s not why I’m here. What are you going to do?”
“About what?” She frowned. She knew exactly what he meant, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that.
He raised an eyebrow. “Will you go?”
Tucked away in her suitcase was the letter she’d received from the stranger in Strangolagalli, the little village outside of Rome. “I don’t know. We’ll be awfully busy with Daniele’s family, and…”
“You should go.” He nodded as if he’d just decided it for her.
“Maybe so…” But he was gone.
“You all right?” Daniele put a hand on her shoulder.
Carmelina blinked. She was standing at the kitchen sink, staring out the window. The turkeys were gone. “I think so.” She turned around, pulling his arms around her. If she was going to do this, he had a right to know. “There’s something I need to tell you…”
Fagottini di Bresaola ai Funghi
Bresaola Parcels with Mushrooms
Makes 8 Hors d’oeuvres
- 8 thin slices of bresaola
- 3 oz of fresh goat cheese
- 7 oz of sliced mushrooms
- 1 clove of garlic
- 1 teaspoon of chopped parsley
- 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
- 8 thin stalks of chives
- Salt and pepper to taste
Heat half of the olive oil in a non-stick pan. Add the garlic, then remove it as soon as it darkens. Next, add the cleaned and sliced mushrooms. Salt and pepper them to taste, and cook them over high heat for 10 minutes. Turn off the heat, add in the parsley and let the mixture cool.
Mix the goat cheese with the remaining oil until it is creamy and stir in the now-cooled mushroom mix. Line up the bresaola slices on the cutting board, place a little of the cheese-and-mushroom mixture in the center of each, the close the slices like a little sack and tie them around the neck with the chives. Keep them in a cool place until ready to serve.
< Read Chapter 28 Pt Two | Read Chapter 30 >
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.