THERE ARE ONLY a few places big enough to handle an Italian wedding reception in the Burg. Julie Morelli held hers in the back room of Angio's. The room could hold two hundred and was reaching maximum capacity when Joe and I arrived.
“And when is your wedding?” Joe's Aunt Loretta wanted to know, smiling broadly, giving Joe the squinty eye. She shook her finger at him. “When are you going to make an honest woman out of this poor thing? Myra, come here,” she called. “Joe's here with his girl.”
“This is such a pretty dress,” Myra said, examining my roses. “It's so nice to find a modest young woman.”
Oh, great. I always wanted to be a modest young woman. “I need a drink,” I said to Joe. “Something with cyanide.”
I spied Terry Gilman across the room, and she wasn't modest at all. She was wearing a dress that was short and clingy, and shimmery gold. Leaving me to wonder where the gun was hidden. She turned and stared directly at Joe for a couple beats, then she blew him a kiss.
Joe acknowledged her with a noncommittal smile and a nod of his head. If it had been more I'd have stabbed him with one of the butter knives.
“What's Terry doing here?” I asked Joe.
“Cousin to the groom.”
A hush fell over the crowd. For a moment there was total silence, and then talking resumed, first with low murmurings and finally building to a roar.
“What was that silence all about?” I asked Joe.
“Grandma Bella's arrived. That was the sound of terror spreading through the room.”
I looked to the entrance and sure enough, there she was . . . Joe's grandma Bella. She was a small woman with white hair and piercing hawklike eyes. She dressed in black and looked like she belonged in Sicily, herding goats, making the lives of her daughters'-in-?law a living misery. Some people believed Bella had special powers . . . some thought she was wacko. Even the nonbelievers were reluctant to incur her wrath.
Bella scanned the room and picked me out. “You,” she said, pointing a bony finger at me. “You, come here.”
“Oh, shit!” I whispered to Joe. “Now what?”
“Just don't let her smell fear, and you'll be fine,” Joe said, guiding me through the crowd, his hand at the small of my back.
“I remember this one,” Bella said to Joe, referring to me. “This is the one you sleep with now.”
“Well, actually . . .” I said.
Joe brushed a kiss across the nape of my neck. “I'm trying.”
“I see babies,” Bella said. “You will give me more great-?grandchildren. I know these things. I have the eye.” She patted my stomach. “You're ripe tonight. Tonight would be good.”
I looked at Joe.
“Don't worry,” he said. “I've got it covered. Besides, there's no such thing as the eye.”
“Hah!” Bella said. “I gave Ray Barkolowski the eye, and all his teeth fell out.”
Joe grinned down at his grandmother. “Ray Barkolowski had periodontal disease.”
Bella shook her head. “Young people,” she said. “They believe in nothing.” She took my hand and dragged me after her. “Come. You should meet the family.”
I looked back at Joe and mouthed “Help!”
“You're on your own,” Joe said. “I need a drink. A big one.”
“This is Joe's cousin, Louis,” Grandma Bella said. “Louis fools around on his wife.”
Louis looked like a thirty-?year-?old loaf of fresh raised white bread. Soft and plump. Scarfing down appetizers. He stood next to a small olive-?skinned woman, and from the look she gave him, I assumed they were married.
“Grandma Bella,” he said, croaky-?voiced, his cheeks mottled in red, mouth stuffed with crab balls. “I would never—”
“Silence,” she said. “I know these things. You can't lie to me. I'll put the eye on you.”