Morelli reached across me for the bottle of wine. 'Maybe just one glass.'
Grandma jumped when the doorbell rang. 'That's my band!' she said, running for the door.
My father had a plate of Italian cookies in front of him and a cup of coffee. 'Band?'
'You don't want to know,' I told him. 'Eat your cookies. Enjoy your coffee.'
Sally and his crew trooped in, carrying instruments and amps.
'Man, this is so cool that we can rehearse here,' Sally said. 'We've been kicked out of every place else.'
Lula was the last in. She was carrying a bunch of bags, and she was wearing a blond wig.
'Wait until you see what I got,' she said. 'It's the bomb. This is the best outfit yet. And it hasn't got any feathers.'
Sally started setting up in the living room, plugging the amps in, unpacking his guitar. The other three guys were working, hauling in a drum set, keyboard, bass.
'What the heck?' my father said. 'What's going on?'
'I thought Sally was coming over for dessert,' my mother said. 'Who are these people?'
'The band,' my grandmother said. 'Nobody listens to me.'
'Of course no one listens to you, you old bat,' my father said. 'I'd have to blow my brains out if I listened to you. How am I going to watch television? There's a ball game tonight. The Yankees are playing. Get these people out of my living room. Someone call the police.'
We all looked at Morelli.
'Do something,' my father said to Morelli.
Morelli slid his arm across the back of my chair and whispered into my ear. 'Help.'
'Wait a minute,' my grandmother yelled. 'I live here too. And this here's an important moment in my life. And you know how old I am… I might not have many more moments left.'
Clearly that statement represented the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for my father.
'We gotta go upstairs and get dressed,' Lula said to Grandma. 'And I got a wig for you too.'
'Maybe you should go to the lodge,' I said to my father. 'I thought Thursday was pinochle night.'
'It's always pinochle night at the lodge. I wanted to see the ball game tonight.'
'Don't they have a television at the lodge?'
'Yeah, they got one in the bar.' He looked at his coffee and cookies. 'I'm not done eating.'
'A bag!' I said to my mother. 'For God's sake, put his cookies in a bag.'
'I have to get changed,' Sally said, going upstairs. 'I'll only be a minute.'
'Hurry!' I shouted to my mother. 'What's holding up that bag?'
The bass player started tuning, adjusting the volume on the amp. The first sound that came out was Wangggggg!
'Holy crap,' my father said. 'What in the beejeezus was that?'
'Bass,' Morelli said, eyeing a cookie on my father's plate.
'I see you looking at my cookies,' my father said to Morelli. 'Don't even think about it. Go get your own cookies.'