Angie brushed a stray hair back as she opened the front door. “Rosa, Domenic. Merry Christmas. Come in.”
Domenic, carrying a box of aluminum trays gave Angie a peck on the cheek. “Buon Natale”.
Tony, Angie’s husband, appeared from the kitchen wearing an apron. He gave Rosa a squeeze and looked in the box Domenic held. “You brought my favorites, mussels, scungilli and clams casino. I made crab salad, calamari and linguini with anchovies. We’re going to eat like kings.”
Rosa, taking off her coat, turned to Angie. “Anyone else coming?”
Angie nodded. “I asked Frankie. He said he’d try.”
Rosa waved her pinched fingers in front of Angie’s face. Whaddya doin’? “He’s gonna bring that slutty bitch Dolores of his. I can’t stand her.”
Domenic held his hands up and said, “Here we go.”
Angie faced Rosa and Domenic, spread palms down, flat in front of her. Enough. “Frankie claims he and Dolores are splitting. I feel sorry for him. He’s our only brother and it’s Christmas.”
Rosa flicked her fingers under her chin. I don’t care. Tony appeared with glasses of red wine. Domenic took one with both hands. “Bless you.”
As Rosa sipped her wine she inspected the dinner table, running her hand over the elaborately embroidered tablecloth. She motioned to Domenic. “Mom made this, maybe twenty years ago.”
From the kitchen Angie said, “More like thirty. I found it when we cleaned out her house. She used it only for the seven fishes dinner. I thought it’d be nice to have a little of her with us tonight.”
At the sound of the doorbell Rosa retreated to the kitchen. Domenic flashed his eyes to the ceiling and put down his glass. “I’ll get it.”
Frankie stood in the doorway holding a shopping tote. Domenic took the bag. “Come in, Frankie, come in.” He turned his head toward the kitchen. “We got more food.”
Angie hustled over to the entrance. “Frankie, you came.” Giving him a hug she looked over his shoulder out the still open door. No Dolores. Aaahh.
Frankie patted Angie on the back. “Baccalà marinara from the deli.”
Angie smiled. “Good, good. Tony, a glass of wine for my brother.”
Rosa gave Frankie a half-hearted wave from the kitchen. “We have our seven. Let’s eat, already.”
*****
The overhead bell tinkled as Angie entered the dry cleaners. She set her mom’s tablecloth on the counter showing Irving, the proprietor, a big stain. “Can you get this out? I’m afraid to wash it myself. It’s like an heirloom.”
Irving inspected it and shrugged, “Oy. You really did a number on this.”
Angie shook her head. “Not me, my hopeless brother. First he knocks over his wine and then while trying to mop up the mess he spills a plate of marinara. He’s our own Fredo.”
Irving nodded. “Wine and gravy stains are tough. I guess every family has to have one farkakteh schmuck.”
INSTANT NOODLES 