A Mobster's Menu for Mother's Day Brunch by Beth Mathison Page A

old. Not like Mary Charlotte here.”
    “I’m two months older than you are,” Mary Charlotte said. She was dressed in a fluorescent orange dress with lime green flowers printed on the fabric. A diaphanous floral hat was set high on her head.
    “Alright, we’re both older than dirt,” Betty agreed. “I’ve got the arthritis pains to prove it. See this finger here?” She stuck out her right hand. “That finger’s all curved up due to the rheumatism.”
    “That finger’s all curved up on account of hitting the buttons on the slot machine,” Mary Charlotte said.
    “Oh, I really like those slot machines,” Charlie said. “I like the old-fashioned kind, where you have to carry around a bucket with all your coins. They’re not like those new-fangled ones with a credit card thing. I like to feel the weight of my winnings in my hand.”
    “Isn’t that the truth,” Betty piped in. “These young people don’t know what they’re doing. Just look at them.”
    Everyone looked at the kids’ table. The kids had tied Stephen to his chair with ribbons from the helium balloons. The balloons bobbed around Stephen’s face, and he was trying to move them away by blowing on them. Someone had painted circles and flowers on his face with chocolate.
    “I think we’re doing OK,” Annalisa said. “No worse than any other generation, especially in our family. I’ve heard plenty of stories about people in the family getting in trouble.”
    “Well, that’s the truth,” Charlie said. “When I was kid, we used to do all sorts of crazy stuff.”
    “I wanted to be a nun,” Mary Charlotte said.
    “You did?” Carla asked, taking in Mary Charlotte’s colorful outfit. Mary Charlotte’s hair was dyed a bright red, she had two circles of blush on her cheeks, and had orange eye shadow that matched her dress.
    “Yep,” Mary Charlotte answered. “Was in training and everything at the nunnery.”
    “They kicked her out,” Harry said. He made the sign of the cross.
    Mary Charlotte nodded. “Didn’t quite see eye to eye regarding that celibacy law. Mother Superior Mary Elizabeth and I had some words about that rule. And the Thou Shalt Not Steal commandment. How’s a young lady supposed to make a living if she can’t sell surplus items on the side? It’s not even stealing, really. It’s more like re-appropriating lost items. Things legitimately fall off of trucks, you know. I was doing a heck of a trade in rosaries.”
    “Older people always think the young are foolish,” Annalisa said with confidence. She turned to Betty. “Didn’t you think that your parents and grandparents were old-fashioned?”
    “Oh, my,” Betty exclaimed. “They were terrible, I’m telling you the God honest truth. Couldn’t hang on to a new idea to save their souls. Good thing we’re not like that.”
    “Hmmmm…” Annalisa said.
    The waiters began bringing in large trays of food from the kitchen.
    “Oooh, something besides olives and leftover Easter bunny chocolates!” Betty exclaimed. “I thought the salt and sugar were going to suck the life out of me there for a moment. Have to be careful about diabetes and high blood pressure at my age. Cholesterol and intestinal problems too. ” She peered at a tray piled high with small round pastries, then prodded one with her fork. “What the heck are these things?”
    “These are ham and cheese puffs encased in a delicate pastry shell,” Charlie said proudly.
    “What happened to the traditional ham?” Mary Charlotte asked.
    “We’re going a different route this year,” Harry said.
    “Yeah, like the boxes that fell off Route 32 yesterday,” Charlie said.
    Aunt Shirley looked at the large bowl in front of her. It was piled high with cocktail wieners. There were trays of mini quiches the size of quarters, bite-sized cheesecake squares, and cheeseburger sliders piled into a pyramid.
    “What’s the deal with all the miniature food?” Betty asked. “I feel like a giant eating all