told Rosa to park her car on the street this morning so that Sophia could back out of the driveway,” Mama explained. “Do you think the new neighbors . . . ?” Her voice trailed off, but I could see the fear in her eyes.
“Surely not. They wouldn’t have one of our cars towed out of spite. Would they?”
Mama sprang from her seat, clutched her bathrobe tightly around her, and headed toward the bathroom door. I quickly ushered her back into place in front of the mirror and told her I’d take care of it myself. There’s something about a half-made-up face that can be pretty alarming.
I sprinted down the stairs with Precious on my heels, reaching the door at the same moment the bell rang. “Lord, please let this end well,” I whispered. Reaching down to snatch up the dog, I opened the door. “C-can I help you?”
An extremely tall twentysomething male with rough-around-the-edges features greeted me. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Precious—likely intimidated by his size and his deep voice—began that low growl thing in the back of her throat, and I swallowed hard, praying she would keep her cool. I needed to talk this guy out of towing Rosa’s car.
He glanced at a paper in his hand and then said, “I’m lookin’ for Bella Rossi.”
There was something about the way he pronounced Bella — Bay -luh—that made a nervous laugh rise up. Who was this guy? He had a familiar look about him. And that voice—that deep, hypnotic voice . . .
I leaned to the right and strained to read the logo on the side of the wrecker. From here I could almost make it out. If he’d just move a little to my left . . .
The stranger pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through sandy-colored curls. “D.J. said something about barbecuin’ for a wedding. Told me to stop by here before meetin’ up with him for lunch.”
Welcome, Bubba!
I threw open the door and ushered the towering hunk-a-Bubba inside, trying to figure out why D.J. hadn’t called to give me a heads-up on his brother’s unexpected visit.
As these thoughts swirled around in my brain, Mama came bounding down the stairs wearing a pair of navy slacks and a mismatched yellow blouse. She still wore her cloth headband but had somehow found the time to apply a smidgeon of blush. However, she had missed something pretty important—her usual rose-colored lip liner and lipstick. Without any color on her lips, she came across a bit ghostlike in appearance. Not that I had much time to contemplate the fact. My mother, who rarely got worked up, took one look at Bubba and went into a panic.
“Please don’t take our car,” she pleaded. “We promise never to do it again.”
“Take your car?” He scratched his head, looking back and forth between us. “Why would I want to—?”
“This whole thing has been a terrible misunderstanding.” She used her hands to talk, as always. “I’m sure we can work it out peacefully.”
“Mama, relax.” I nodded in her direction. “This is D.J.’s brother. He’s here to discuss the food for Sharlene and Cody’s wedding. We’re not being towed.”
“Oh, thank God.” My mother dropped into a chair and began to fan herself with her hand.
Rosa chose that moment to enter the room. She took one look at Mama and the scolding began. “Imelda! Go upstairs and put on your lips.”
I wanted to disappear into the woodwork. Of all the times for my aunt to deliver a line in English.
My mother ran her index finger along the edges of her mouth, then with a horrified look on her face, she rose from her seat and raced toward the stairs.
“She’s fast on her feet,” Bubba observed, slipping his cap back on.
“We’re from Jersey,” I explained. “Everything’s faster up there.”
“Yeah, but everything’s bigger in Texas,” he countered.
“No doubt about that.” I looked up, up, up into his blue eyes—eyes that mimicked his older brother’s in every conceivable way. “So, um, you’ve come to talk about the wedding? Maybe
“Surely not. They wouldn’t have one of our cars towed out of spite. Would they?”
Mama sprang from her seat, clutched her bathrobe tightly around her, and headed toward the bathroom door. I quickly ushered her back into place in front of the mirror and told her I’d take care of it myself. There’s something about a half-made-up face that can be pretty alarming.
I sprinted down the stairs with Precious on my heels, reaching the door at the same moment the bell rang. “Lord, please let this end well,” I whispered. Reaching down to snatch up the dog, I opened the door. “C-can I help you?”
An extremely tall twentysomething male with rough-around-the-edges features greeted me. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Precious—likely intimidated by his size and his deep voice—began that low growl thing in the back of her throat, and I swallowed hard, praying she would keep her cool. I needed to talk this guy out of towing Rosa’s car.
He glanced at a paper in his hand and then said, “I’m lookin’ for Bella Rossi.”
There was something about the way he pronounced Bella — Bay -luh—that made a nervous laugh rise up. Who was this guy? He had a familiar look about him. And that voice—that deep, hypnotic voice . . .
I leaned to the right and strained to read the logo on the side of the wrecker. From here I could almost make it out. If he’d just move a little to my left . . .
The stranger pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through sandy-colored curls. “D.J. said something about barbecuin’ for a wedding. Told me to stop by here before meetin’ up with him for lunch.”
Welcome, Bubba!
I threw open the door and ushered the towering hunk-a-Bubba inside, trying to figure out why D.J. hadn’t called to give me a heads-up on his brother’s unexpected visit.
As these thoughts swirled around in my brain, Mama came bounding down the stairs wearing a pair of navy slacks and a mismatched yellow blouse. She still wore her cloth headband but had somehow found the time to apply a smidgeon of blush. However, she had missed something pretty important—her usual rose-colored lip liner and lipstick. Without any color on her lips, she came across a bit ghostlike in appearance. Not that I had much time to contemplate the fact. My mother, who rarely got worked up, took one look at Bubba and went into a panic.
“Please don’t take our car,” she pleaded. “We promise never to do it again.”
“Take your car?” He scratched his head, looking back and forth between us. “Why would I want to—?”
“This whole thing has been a terrible misunderstanding.” She used her hands to talk, as always. “I’m sure we can work it out peacefully.”
“Mama, relax.” I nodded in her direction. “This is D.J.’s brother. He’s here to discuss the food for Sharlene and Cody’s wedding. We’re not being towed.”
“Oh, thank God.” My mother dropped into a chair and began to fan herself with her hand.
Rosa chose that moment to enter the room. She took one look at Mama and the scolding began. “Imelda! Go upstairs and put on your lips.”
I wanted to disappear into the woodwork. Of all the times for my aunt to deliver a line in English.
My mother ran her index finger along the edges of her mouth, then with a horrified look on her face, she rose from her seat and raced toward the stairs.
“She’s fast on her feet,” Bubba observed, slipping his cap back on.
“We’re from Jersey,” I explained. “Everything’s faster up there.”
“Yeah, but everything’s bigger in Texas,” he countered.
“No doubt about that.” I looked up, up, up into his blue eyes—eyes that mimicked his older brother’s in every conceivable way. “So, um, you’ve come to talk about the wedding? Maybe
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