Page 21 of The Singing Trees
“Don’t look at me,” she said, unable to wipe away her smile. “You asked for it.”You asked for all of this,she thought.
Like a boxer pushing up after a near knockout, Thomas picked up his fork. The color left his face. He cut the giant meatball and stuck a bite into his mouth. Everyone watched.
Thomas swallowed and then made a show of closing his eyes and enjoying the flavor. “Yummm...so good,” he said.
Of course it was good. No one cooked better than hernonna.
“Nino, give him moresugo,” Nonna ordered.
Nino chuckled as he spooned even more marinara on top of the meatballs and spaghetti.
“More, more,” Nonna said, flapping her hands. “You like the garlic, right, Thomas?”
“I love garlic,” Thomas muttered, flashing a look at Annalisa. “Matter of fact,” he said, “will you please pass the bread?” He crammed another bite into his mouth.
Even Annalisa giggled this time. She had to admit he was a pretty good sport.
Thomas wiped the sauce off his plate with his bread. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit inside my car, but it’s worth it just to see your smile.” He was brazen enough to say it so that the whole table could hear.
“What a smooth talker,” Aunt Julia said. “I think you’re adorable. Annalisa, green light! Green light!”
Annalisa cut her eyes to her aunt, promising a word or two later.
Nonna stood behind Thomas. “Make sure you save room foril dolce.”
Thomas swallowed and queried Annalisa.“Il dolce?”
“Dessert,” Annalisa whispered. This was too much fun, but she was starting to feel bad for him.
“Yes, dessert,” Nonna said, finally letting out her own smile.
Thomas looked like he was going to vomit just as badly as she had the night before, and that was when she realized she needed to stand up for him. “Okay, everyone. Can we not watch him eat? You’re embarrassing him.”
Everyone in both rooms raised their voices, telling her to relax in two languages.
Thomas made it through another meatball and two slices of bread before he raised his napkin in the air. “I surrender. Please don’t think any less of me. It was really wonderful. I’m just not used to eating so well. My mother likes to make chowder, but not this much of it.”
“Well, that explains why you’re so skinny!” Uncle Michael said.
Thomas looked directly at Annalisa and said almost heroically, “I did save room for dessert, though.”
She refused to look away from him. It was almost competitive, the way he persevered.
“That a boy,” Nonna said, uncrossing her arms. She clapped her hands, and half the people at the table, including Annalisa, stood and cleared the dishes.
When Annalisa returned, she put a tray of cannoli and a jar of cherries on the table. Someone had turned the volume up on the record player to mark the arrival of dessert, and Mario Lanza belted out “Night and Day.”
Annalisa put two cannoli onto a plate and scooped the delectable cherries over them. “Nonna cans these in whiskey every season.” She lowered her voice. “If you eat enough, you might catch a buzz.”
Thomas rubbed his forehead. “Don’t tell me this kind of eating is normal.”
“This is every weekend. Want to come back tomorrow for leftovers?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite them back.
“Sign me up,” he said.
Was he ever going to give up this chase?
She took pity on him: “Next time, start out with small bites; take your time.”
