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“Come on, let me introduce you to everyone,” Beth says, closing the conversation and dragging me into the kitchen.
It’s a melee of arms and hands dishing out food and speaking in a language I don’t understand. The presence of Laura’s large family is overwhelming, and the fact that not all of them speak English well makes it hard to have small talk.
“Lake, you remember my soon to be mother-in-law, Florina,” Beth says, beaming.
Laura’s mother is short and round with a kind face but she doesn’t speak English very well, and I’ve always found it hard to communicate with her. She takes my hand smiling and says, “Lake?” as if she doesn’t remember my name, which is completely reasonable. She motions with her hands like she’s paddling a canoe, and I look to Beth for assistance but she’s useless because she doesn’t speak Romanian either.
“Acesta este numele ei,”That’s her name, Ianna explains in Romanian.
“Ah, nice to meet you,” Florina says in her best English, cupping my hand in hers.
“It’s really good to see you again.” I remind her that we’ve met before, but she looks at me with a confused expression so I just go with it.
Holding out the present I brought, I thought it was wrapped stylishly until I notice all of the other presents are wrapped in some form of pink. Florina smiles and takes the package from me, ambling over to place it on the pile where it sticks out like a sore thumb.
While Beth is whisked away by other guests, Ianna visits with me in the kitchen.
“Help yourself to some food,” she says, gesturing to plates of hamburgers and hotdogs, along with all kinds of sides and desserts.
“Thank you,” I say politely, but I don’t mention that I’m vegetarian, so I grab a plate of salad.
“Is Noelle with you?” she asks.
“Yeah, she’s with Ashley somewhere,” I say, looking around the party but not finding them. Laura moved in with Beth months ago, and even though her home is a little small, it was so they didn’t have to uproot Ashley from her friends and school.
“They’re probably hiding from my little monsters. They adore Ashley,” she says, scooping potato salad onto a plate – and with good timing – because two of her kids come tearing through the kitchen. “She’s like the big sister they never knew they wanted,” Ianna laughs, grabbing one of the kids to slow them down.
Remembering how Ashley was with Noelle, following her around because she was the older one, a little twinge of jealousy bubbles from deep within me, but I try to tamp it down. Ianna’s kids aren’t family, at least not in the same way Noelle is, and yet they look more comfortable in Beth’s home than I do.
“How’s Noelle doing? She composes music, right?” Ianna asks, and I’m surprised she remembers. It was a couple months ago that I mentioned it to her.
“Good,” I say, smiling. “She’s been busy working on this winter recital for school.”
She looks like she wants me to invite her, but I wouldn’t do that without Noelle being okay with it, so I don’t say anything.
“Winter,” Ianna says, pulling at her top to let some air in, “seems so far off. Feels like summer just started,” she says.
“I used to hate the summers growing up,” I admit.
Ianna smiles, setting her plate down. “And now?” she asks.
I pick up a carrot stick. “Now they just never end,” I reply before taking a bite and Ianna laughs.
“Ain’t that the truth,” she says.
I poke at the little pink bells made of crepe paper in the center of the island. “Everything looks beautiful,” I say, looking around at the rest of the decorations.
“Thanks. I had so much fun at the party store picking everything out. I was so excited to finally plan my sister's wedding I may have gone a little overboard,” she says, and I shift uncomfortably.
“And of course, I know you’re busy with work and the single mom thing. I honestly don’t know how you do it,” she says, trying to make me feel better.
“Well, I only have one kid which is a lot easier than managing three,” I say, already wishing I were home in my pajamas watching a movie.
“I should have asked if you wanted to help,” Ianna says sweetly, but it just makes me feel worse, which I know she didn’t intend.
“My work schedule is crazy, but you did a much better job than I would have,” I admit, which is true. I don’t know where Noelle got her creativity, because it certainly wasn’t from me.
We stand in awkward silence, and to fill the void, I shove a forkful of lettuce in my mouth.
