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“What’s going on with August?” I ask, concerned.
“I don’t know yet, Warren went to check on her. We’ve gotta do something about that, Patty.” The worry drips from her voice.
“I know we do,” I grumble, thinking about the justice I’d love to serve August’s mother.
Cassandra overhears, because she steps forward. “I know a bit about having a parent who has … difficulties. If I’m catching your drift. When she comes in, do you mind if I talk to her?”
If I weren’t already smitten to hell, this would be the cherry on top. “That would be helpful, thanks.”
Alana nods thankfully. “As for the dinner rush, just hold on tight and triage. We don’t expect you to be perfect, but things move fast around here, so just go with the flow and ask us for help if need be.”
“I’ve worked on movie sets, I know rude people when I see them.” She smiles confidently.
I step into her and lean down, unable to resist giving her a kiss with too much tongue for the front lobby of my family’s restaurant.
“Unfortunately, baby, I don’t think you’ve seen anything like this.”
The Saturday night dinner crush almost does just that. Alana, Cassandra, and I circle round the dining room like we’re dancing the do-si-do while Dad and Nonna scream at each other while cooking in the back. Mom is nearly sprinting back and forth to bring the waiting customers a complimentary glass of wine, with juice boxes for the little ones, and Warren comes back with a grim look on his face and no August. Unfortunately, there isn’t time for us to debrief about that, and it’ll have to wait even if my panic meter just heightened a notch.
I’m in the back, plopping frozen dough for rolls on a baking sheet after two of my tables just cleared when Cassandra bustles into the kitchen.
“I need a large pepperoni, two burrata pies, and a spaghetti Bolognese for table twenty. Hold the spinach on those burrata pies and they said they were considering the chocolate lava cake for dessert, Nonna, I know you need a heads-up on that.”
She rattles these things off her fingers, not even looking down at the pad in her apron pocket.
“Got it.” Dad is furiously kneading dough into the counter, the wood oven sparking flames behind him.
“You memorized that?” I gape.
She winks. “I’ve memorized lines for three-hour movies for ten years. This is a piece of cake.”
And with that, she twirls out of the kitchen like a fairy going to spread magic dust over the customers. Which I’m pretty sure she has, seeing as her tips have been better than mine tonight. I ask if we should have a little wager on who makes more, but then Alana said Cassandra would wipe the floor with me, and a customer shouted about his steak being underdone, so it was cut short.
“I’m going to marry that woman.” I shake my head with a smile that never seems to wipe off when she’s around.
Even in the thick of chaos, she stepped up when no one asked and shined.
“Of course you are,” Dad says, and I physically startle.
A defensiveness takes over my soul at him commenting on anything Cassandra. “What? You don’t want me to?”
Dad looks at me a moment, even as he’s manning about sixteen items cooking in front of and behind him.
“Any woman who challenges you, steps up the way she has, and keeps coming back swinging even when your own father is nothing but a grinch to her … of course, she’s worth marrying. If you let this one go, you’re an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad,” I mutter.
Even if this is the best thing my father could have said about Cassandra, it only reminds me of my track record. Of what people will say when I inevitably propose to her. Of course, it won’t stop me from doing so, but I fucking hate having to hear outsiders’ opinions on shit that doesn’t even concern them.
“You know you never told your mother and me you were going to marry either of the two girls you proposed to?” My dad has some weird ability to read all our minds.
“I didn’t?” Those relationships seem like such a blur compared to what I feel for Cassandra.
He shakes his head and pulls three steaming hot pizzas out of the oven in quick succession. “Never said much about being so in love that you had to spend your life with them. I always thought it probably felt like the next logical step to you. With Cassandra? You’ve told me time and time again how strongly you feel for her. That’s real love. Standing up and proving it to the biggest naysayers, no matter if they believe you or convert or care. You were willing to piss me off, you love her so much. You were so overcome by it that you said your intentions just now, no matter who heard them. I’ve never heard you do that before. That’s how I know this one will stick.”
“Count on your father to make you cry in a hot, busy kitchen. He always was the romantic and softer than my daughter.” Nonna nods sagely from her dessert station.
I’m so stunned and overcome with emotion that I’m rendered momentarily speechless. So instead, I go over and hug my father.
