The Sparkling One

All of this and a brain, too, Katie thought with a combination of love and pride, flavored with a touch of sibling rivalry. Katie had always been the smart sister, but Francesca’s success in her Ph.D. program demonstrated there were fairly efficient brain cells firing behind those big eyes.

Katie grabbed her suitcase. “Poor Dad and Grandpa Lorenzo. They always look forward to Jeff’s visits. He keeps them from feeling outnumbered by the women.”

“They’ll survive, but I’m not sure we will,” Francesca said as they walked to the back door and stepped into the utility room. “You need to brace yourself. There’s an estrogen fest going on in the kitchen. The Grands are on a roll and Mom is only making it worse. If you don’t keep your distance, your ovaries may mutate.”

Katie smiled as she dropped her suitcase and purse. She stepped into the kitchen and took a deep breath.

“Hi!”

Three women stood around the central island of the massive kitchen decorated with hand-painted tiles. Dozens of bowls, casseroles, and pots filled every inch of counter space that wasn’t already holding fresh produce and homemade pasta.

Three heads turned, three pairs of eyes widened in delight, six arms reached for her. Katie found herself being engulfed in a hugging competition designed to snap at least two ribs, while making her feel she was the most important person on the planet.

“Katie, at last! We were so worried. The long drive. A young woman alone. Who knows what could happen?”

Her paternal grandmother pinched her cheek hard enough to leave a mark. Katie smiled, even as her eyes watered from the pain. “Grandma Tessa,” she said warmly. “If you stopped worrying, what would the saints do with their time?”

Grandma Tessa, born and bred in Italy, dismissed the blasphemy. She was used to it from all her girls.

Katie’s mother, petite and stylish in a designer suit, sans shoes, cupped her face. “You look thin. Katie, you’re a beautiful young woman. You don’t need to starve yourself. Are you dieting again?”

Katie kissed her soft, pale cheek. “I swear, I’m not dieting. In fact, I weigh exactly the same as I did the last time you saw me, and the time before that.”

Colleen O’Shea Marcelli harrumphed, obviously unconvinced. “I think we should talk later. When your father and I were in San Francisco, we met the nicest young man. He’s a sous chef in a restaurant up there.”

Francesca stole a slice of cheese. “I thought all chefs were gay.”

Grandma Tessa brought the cross on the rosary around her neck to her lips. “Francesca, God did not make you so lovely on the outside so that you could have such a dark heart. Katie needs a man. For that matter, you need a man.”

Francesca looked at Katie. They both rolled their eyes.

Finally Katie turned to the tiny woman still holding her arm. “Grammy M,” Katie said, her voice warm with affection. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m grand. The sun feels good on these old bones. I’ve no complaints a’tall.”

“You’re not so old,” Katie reminded her. “Besides, I’m counting on you living forever.”

Mary-Margaret O’Shea had been born in Ireland and married at seventeen to a young man she’d only met twice. Less than two weeks after the wedding he’d taken her away from home and family, bringing her across the ocean to a great new land. They’d eventually settled in California.

Grammy M squeezed her hand. “I’m plannin’ on it, darlin’.”

“So,” Katie’s mother said, expectantly. “If you’re not interested in the sous chef, does that mean you have someone special in your life?”

Katie looked at Francesca, who stuck her finger down her throat and silently gagged.

Katie knew she had two choices. She could tell the truth—that she wasn’t seeing anyone and that she was perfectly okay with that. Only no one would believe her. Instead her grandmothers and mother would fuss and chide and torture her for the entire weekend. They would bring up names of men who had never married (and once they reached forty without tying the knot, how couldn’t there be something wrong with them?), men who were recently divorced, even men who were thinking about divorce. They would talk about her growing old alone, about the odds of finding a man after she turned thirty. They would try to love her into submitting to the family credo of “marry young and have many babies.”

Or she could lie.

While she generally tried to tell the truth, desperate times and all that.

“I recently met the most amazing guy,” she said.

The Grands did a second swooping thing, while her mother beamed.

“Tell us everything,” she insisted. “What’s he like?”

“His name is Zach Stryker and he’s a very successful lawyer.”

“Ooh, a man with a profession,” her mother said happily. “So he has money.”

Katie didn’t have a clue, but unless Zach spent every weekend redecorating his house at the Neiman Marcus home store, he should have gobs. “Sure. He’s gorgeous and charming and I think he’s really special.”

Francesca nearly choked on her cheese. Katie tucked her hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. “He hired me to handle a big fund-raiser for his firm. It’s a huge job and it’s going to put my company onto the ‘A’ list, but that’s not nearly as exciting as meeting the right guy, you know?”

Francesca still stood behind the Grands. Now she chewed the last bit of cheese and wrapped her hands around her throat, as if strangling herself. Katie knew she was laying it on a bit thick, but she was on a roll.

She sighed heavily. “The man is a hunk.”

Just then footsteps clattered on the dining room hardwood floor. Katie was almost disappointed by the interruption. She could have done another five minutes on the unlikely virtues of Zach.

Everyone turned toward the sound as Mia burst into the kitchen.

As usual, she was dressed in jeans and a cropped shirt. Her highlighted hair looked more blond than brown, although the roots were showing, the way Mia liked it. Heavy makeup emphasized her brown eyes. She looked like a makeover gone bad, and yet so lovely and full of life that Katie couldn’t help smiling.

“You’ve got to start blending,” Katie said, crossing to her youngest sister and hugging her. “That’s why God invented Q-tips.”

Mia puffed out her glossy lips, then gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m still experimenting to find my style. We can’t all be perfect like Francesca or together like you.” Mia fingered Katie’s cardigan. “I mean, you match, for God’s sake.”

Grandma Tessa fingered her rosary. “Mia Theresa Marcelli, your mouth shames the entire family.”

Mia dropped her head in mock surrender. “Sorry, Grandma. I didn’t mean to take the Lord’s name in vain.”

Never one to stay contrite for long, she quickly straightened. “Is Brenna here? I really, really want to tell everyone my news. Where are Dad and Grandpa Lorenzo?”

“They’ll be back for dinner,” Grandma Tessa said. “You’ll have to wait.”

Katie grinned. Telling Mia to wait when she wanted something was about as productive as attempting to change the Earth’s axis. No matter the effort, not one thing shifted.

“Oh, sh—” Mia glanced at her paternal grandmother and quickly modified her word choice. “Oh, shimmy! I’ll just tell you, and then we can tell everyone else when they get here.” She frowned.

“Have you been working on your plan to rule the world?” Katie asked her youngest sister. “Remember, I’m only going to organize it. You’re in charge of world domination.”

“Not today.” Mia drew in a deep breath, then spun around once. She clapped her hands together and grinned.

“I’ve got the best news. I’m getting married!”

2

T heir mother and both grandmothers swooped down on Mia like peregrine falcons diving for a hapless mouse. Katie laughed as her baby sister was alternately squeezed, kissed, cheek-pinched, and cooed over.

Mia held out her left hand, showing everyone her simple diamond solitaire.

“Very nice,” Katie said, leaning in for a glance.

“Married,” Grandma Tessa said with obvious delight. “To that nice boy, David? He’s not Italian, but he’s very handsome. Is the family Catholic?”

“Mama Tessa, you worry too much,” Mom said as she kissed her daughter’s forehead and brushed her streaked hair off her face. “My baby is going to be married. I’m so happy.”

Katie watched the show and fought tears of happiness. “Way to go, Sis,” she called when Mia looked at her. “Make the weekend all about yourself.”

Mia grinned. “I’m really excited, Katie.”

“That’s all that matters.”

Francesca pushed off the counter she’d been leaning against and joined the affection competition. “Congratulations, Mia.”

“Don’t be sad,” Mia implored, grabbing her hands and squeezing them. “Please, Francesca.”

“I’m not sad,” her sister protested. “I’m thrilled for you.”

Katie knew Francesca was telling the truth, even if the Grands wouldn’t believe it. Eight years ago, right on schedule, she and Brenna, her fraternal twin, had been married in a lovely double ceremony. While Brenna was still happily married to Jeff, Francesca had become a widow at the tender age of twenty-one. Busy with getting an education, Francesca preferred staying single and independent. A philosophy that violated everything the sisters had ever been taught.

Grammy M clapped her hands for silence. “When is the wedding to be?”

A hush fell over the kitchen. Francesca and Katie glanced at each other. Katie remembered the fund-raiser she’d just agreed to organize and tried not to panic. Not soon, she thought silently. The fund raiser was going to take all the free time she had.

Mia reached for a cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth. “We’re not sure,” she said after she’d finished chewing. “This summer. Probably sometime in July.”

Katie did the math. The fund-raiser was at the end of May, which meant if the wedding was in mid-July, there would be only six weeks left. Which meant she wouldn’t be sleeping much between now and then.

Grammy M nodded. “We’ll have to get started right away.”

Grandma Tessa sighed. “July is so pretty with the vines and the leaves. You’ll be a beautiful bride, little one.”

Katie’s mother grabbed a pad of paper from the stack under the wall phone. “We need to start a list. How many people? What kind of food? Mia, have you thought about invitations yet? I suppose we need an actual date for that.”

“In case anyone is interested, David and his father are coming over for dinner tonight,” Mia said.

That set off another flurry of activity. The two grandmothers returned their attention to the cooking. Katie’s mom shrieked something about the dining room table not being set right and rushed out of the kitchen. Francesca excused herself, leaving only Katie and Mia with nothing to do.

Mia sidled up to her. “So what do you think? I mean, really.”

“I remember the day you were born,” Katie said softly. “Mom and Dad were desperate for a son, but I wanted you to be a little girl. They even let me name you. And now you’re all grown up. I can’t believe my little sister is getting married.”

Mia’s dark eyes widened. “So you’re happy for me?”

Katie thought about how Mia had always known what she wanted from a very young age. Not only was she intelligent enough to be considered gifted, she had the uncanny ability to choose exactly the right path for herself.

Mia had found her handsome prince. Did it get any better than that? ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">