Smile cocky, I do believe it’s time to present myself and take what rightfully belongs to me.
“Valentino, mi amore! I've been looking for you, Caro,” My father’s oldest sister, Isadora, holds out her hands. Next to her is her daughter, Isabella, who has chosen a silk white-glove of a dress. But my aunt is dressed in black ruffles and lace, as if her ensemble should have been a testament of Tony’s disgrace for marrying without the family’s approval. I’ve seen aunt Isadora in similar attire when my dad married. Yet still, there’s a smile on her face. My observation is that she’s been persuaded by the pianist belting out a romantic tune in Italian, or God forbid Lolita has won her over.
Isadora stands at all of five-feet, but embraces me tightly as I near. I bestow kisses on her cheek.
“Zia, sei bellissima,” I tell my aunt just how beautiful she looks.
“Oh no, no,” Isadora's much too modest to believe in her own beauty, but her weathered, olive colored face reddens just a tad as she smiles.
I’m greeting Isabella with a kiss to the cheek when my aunt continues, “My little brother, his wife is very, very, very gorgeous. And her daughter! Valentino, we must introduce her to cousin Vinny.”
Isabella laughs softly in my ear. “Yes, ma is spot on. Vinny would be a lovely match for Reese.”
“Over my dead body,” I say, stepping back to glare in Isabella’s twinkling eyes. I turn a smile toward Isadora. My aunt has orchestrated at least a million matches and once was the town matchmaker in Cosenza, Italy when she and her twelve younger brothers and sisters were growing up. All of them save for Tony met and married their wives due to the luck granted by Isadora.
I’ve heard word that my father, who isn’t the youngest sibling by far, had been on her list for years, but was much too introverted back then. He had to be mid-fifties when he met and caught the attention of my younger mother, it took a while for Isadora, as head of the family, to visit from Cosenza. Although our entire family has ample businesses in Italy, and she had money and time at her disposal. Despite the fact that my mother had as much culture and a wealth of education, her PhD in world studies didn’t excuse the fact that she wasn’t a native Italian. Mom was a blonde who so happened to have a few drops of Sicilian blood and lived in New York.
I believe my mother was pregnant with me when Isadora made her first trip. Though my aunt treated me with the same love as her own, I might have been a few years old at the time my aunt felt obliged enough to grant her approval to my parents.
I rub Isadora’s cheek and say, “Oh no, cousin Vincenzo is family. They’re related now.”
Her soft, tiny wrinkled hand pats on top of my own. “Yes, yes. Vinny is only your second-cousin, Tino. It will work. Isabella, tell your cousin.” A woman not to be persuaded, she looks up at her daughter, who is almost an entire foot taller, and gives a quick nod for Isabella to stand in agreement.
“Yes, cousin Vinny would love Reese I'm sure.” Isabella winks, and then her voice lowers, since Isadora has to wear a hearing aid. “Don’t be such a brat. Ma truly is right, Vinny will love the sweet, little Reese. And trust me, my ma has tried to hock Reese off on one of my knucklehead brothers, but I reminded her how taboo this would be, given how close we all are with Uncle Tony. Therefore, Vinny wins by default.” Isabella looks me up and down, fully aware of the forbidden relationship. “On the other hand, brat, you might just be correct in that Vinny is not a good fit, seeing that Reese has herself a ten-thousand-dollar suit. How much is yours worth, a meager five-kay?”
“Oh yeah, okay,” I pat Isabella's shoulder as my aunt says, “Reese!”
I turn around and Reese and The Stiff are standing there.
Isadora takes Reese’s hands in hers. “I was just telling Tino, that you and Vinny would make a perfect couple.” My aunt, ever the touch-feely person she is, now clasps Reese's cheeks in her hands. Isadora has no qualms with making a love connection between someone who is betrothed to be married if she doesn't sense their connection, so she disregards Reese’s date.
“Oh, you'll have to introduce me to Vinny,” Reese smiles, humoring my senile aunt.
“Tino? Somebody’s cousin Vinny?” The Stiff says under his breath, “Who’s next, De Niro, Al Pacino?”
Reese rolls her eyes.
I grab his slender, soft hand, “I’m Tino. Valentino Evan Zaccaro.”
“I...” His voice comes out in a screech, hand shaking just slightly due to overactive nerves and how tight my grip is.
“Come again?” I lean in closer.
“Grayson. Daniel. Vandecamp,” he chokes each word out one at a time.
“So you're the chump dating my sister,” I say, head cocked just slightly.
He glances down at our hands. The tips of his fingers are blood-red, puffed and pulsating. Then he gives me a pleading look. “Sort of.”
I let his hand go. Grayson mouths an obscenity. His limp hand is cradled against his three-piece-two-button-suit. But, I suppose it’s the Italian in me because I’m just as touchy and feely as Aunt Isadora. My hands latch onto his shoulders, fingers clamping down onto frailty.
“Sort of?” I inquire, head cocked just so, I stare him straight in the eye. “You don't strike me as a man who isn't full of… himself, Mr. Vandecamp. What is it, together or not?”
“Together. We... We're together.” His gaze shifts to plead with Reese for help, but my aunt can talk for days. She's rather convincing and I'm sure she'll need a couple days to get Reese interested in my no-good cousin Vincenzo.
While Isadora happily mentions that there’s a room with Reese’s name on it in her home, I let his shoulders go. He does one quick shoulder roll, thin lips
