Page 28 of Babies at Coconuts

Chapter 22

While Vinny and Ken set up chairs, Frankie and Luigi opened the trunk. Soon they carried platter after platter of steaming food covered in aluminum foil.

Luigi’s muscles bulged and his feet nearly disappeared in the sand from holding two stacked coolers. “Where do you want these, Ma?”

Mama Gia pointed toward the white linen food tables. “Over there. Underneath the tables.”

Holding a giant pan of lasagna, Frankie said, “This is hot, Mama.” He grimaced. “Where do you want the lasagna?”

“Where else, son? On top of the food table. Move dishes around. Find space. Use your head.”

Suzy prickled as her carefully planned meal turned into bedlam. She knew Jon would be miserable at his what-was-supposed-to-be-a private, intimate ceremony. The entire event reminded her of the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, only Italian-style.

Pulling Ken and Izzy to the side, Suzy said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on. Mama Gia made food. Food. Don’t ask me how or where but I can’t watch. I’ve lost control. I’m going inside to talk to the caterer and servers.” Taking a deep breath, she handed her husband and stepdaughter armfuls of green plastic grass.

“What’s this?” Izzy asked.

Suzy fanned herself with her hand. “Grass skirts for the food, cake, and gift tables.”

Ken chuckled. “Kind of like a hula girl without the girl.”

“Exactly.” Suzy winked. “Will you use two-sided tape and clips to attach the grass skirts? If you run out, I’ve got more supplies in my car.”

Ken kissed his wife’s cheek. “Iz and I are on it. And don’t worry about the food. Everyone loves food. The wedding will be perfect. What could go wrong?”

Suzy rolled her eyes as she stepped inside Coconuts. Glancing around the darkened room, she found Gus and discussed the champagne toast yet again. The server assured her he had the alcohol under control.

She studied her song list for the first dance and took a phone call form Marc at Artistic Blooms who said he’d already made another Bird of Paradise centerpiece to replace yesterday’s disaster, adding a driver was on his way.

“Wonderful. I owe you, Marc.” Stomach summersaulting, Suzy considered downing a glass of merlot to calm her nerves but decided against it. She wanted to be clearheaded. Stepping toward the restroom to freshen up, she wished her friends would arrive early, then laughed. Alex arriving early might give everyone a heart attack. As she pushed the restroom door open, she wondered what Fernando’s mother was doing outside. Food is food, right? She placed her face in her hands. Who am I kidding?

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An empty table proved irresistible to Fernando’s brothers and mother who took full advantage of the space. Bruschetta, two huge pans of lasagna, and two enormous platters of spaghetti and meatballs now adorned the crowded food table.

Mama Gia crossed her arms, stood back, and admired the feast. Pointing, she said, “Those two. Switch those platters. Will look better.”

In a rush to adjust the hot, heaping dishes, Luigi slopped nearly half of the spaghetti onto the white tablecloth. “Cazzo. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Grabbing a handful of hibiscus flowers, he threw them in a clump over the glaring, red sauce.

Smacking him on top of his head, Mama Gia said, “What’s wrong with you? Your brother’s getting married. Everything must be perfect.”

“Ow, Ma,” Luigi said, as he rubbed his head.

Frankie spit on his hand and wiped at the red sauce, which created a bigger smear. “Shit.”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Mama Gia thumped him on the head for good measure.

Vinny crossed his arms and planted his feet. “I ain’t touchin’ notin’.”

Izzy’s eyes bulged as she observed the chaos. “I’m glad I didn’t do that.” She grinned and texted someone. “I learned a new curse word.”

Ken noticed the commotion, fished in his pocket, found antibacterial gel, squirted it on the stain, and rubbed it with the heel of his palm. But the spot wouldn’t budge. “I don’t suppose anyone has an extra tablecloth.”

Suzy came back outside and crossed the sand. “It’s looking very beach-like and—” She stopped short. “You brought so much food. Where’s the actual planned wedding food going to go?”

Luigi stood in front of the stain. With one hand, he scooted another platter to the side. “No worries. We’ll make room.” More red sauce slopped onto the tablecloth. “Dammit.”

Mama Gia thumped him again.

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