1. Meg
1
MEG
“We're all a little weird, and life's a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it LOVE.”
— Dr. Seuss
I was not into wearing smart clothes, but for my first day on the job as a contract lawyer at the Belmont Trust, I decided to wear a nice dress because getting my posh on was paramount. Even if it was just for show.
Naturally, I didn’t have the kind of dress one would wear to a high-powered job, and that was where Mimi came in. She was my younger sister, though technically only by eleven months, and a beautician by trade with a sixth sense for style.
She shopped exclusively in upscale thrift stores where the rich unloaded their designer wear as soon as the fancy wore off and a new season rolled around. Mimi would swoop in and claim them for what she called “two cents on the dollar.”
While Elvis was crooning Can't Help Falling In Love from her playlist, she let me pick a dress from her closet. As I always said, Mimi was born in the wrong era. No Taylor Swift or Harry Styles for her. It was all about Elvis and Frank Sinatra.
She was cute as a button, dimpled and plump, with a closet full of clothes a few sizes too small for one day when she lost the “baby fat.” She was twenty-four.
Her boyfriend of three years, Joshua, thought she was perfect and that if he wanted to hug a stick, he’d go to the local nursery and buy a tree.
After an hour of quarreling back and forth, I was finally able to wrangle a sweet frock from her closet. She got it at a thrift store for twenty-five bucks and swore up and down that she saw some celebrity on Instagram wearing the same thing.
The dress was a velvet number with a modest cleavage, although it was a bit snug over my hips and breasts.
“You’re going to need Spanx, Sis,” Mimi said while chomping on Mom’s famous triple chocolate brownies with caramel glaze. “Just to rein in those curves.”
I glared at her. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
“Not fat, but you’ve got the whole Jessica Rabbit thing happening, but in Italian. I mean, if that’s what you’re going for, who am I to stop you?”
I closed my eyes to summon some strength. “I don’t even know what the hell Jessica Rabbit but in Italian means.”
“The mirror is your friend,” she said tersely. “Take a peek. It’s all there in real time.”
“Mimi…the whole point is to look classy but also like I’m there to take names and kick ass.”
“Then that’s not the dress you should be wearing, Meg. This dress says more let’s book a motel room than hellcat in heels rolling into the courtroom to kick butt .”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Then why did you buy it?”
Her pretty face became a battlefield of incredulity. “Because on anyone else it’s just a cute dress. On you, it becomes…well, something more Jessica Rab—”
“Don’t say it!” I huffed. “I swear, just don’t!”
Mimi shrugged with a snigger. “Hey, if you can’t handle the truth...”
Before we could argue more, Mona sauntered into the room and threw herself onto the bed. She was eighteen, and the baby of the family, an ‘oops’ after Pops had a vasectomy, which turned out to not always be 100% foolproof. Which made Mom pregnant at the ripe age of forty-one.
Unlike any of us, Mona could eat her weight in pies and not gain an ounce. She also had a head of natural auburn hair and didn’t resemble the rest of the family.
More than once, we teased her about being switched at birth.
Eventually, she secretly had a DNA test done, proving she was ours, but it also revealed some things about our extended family that might make the next Thanksgiving a little awkward if it was ever revealed.
“What do you think of me wearing this for my first day at the job?” I asked, twirling around for Mona to get the whole picture.
“You look fine,” she said.
“I don’t want to look just fine .”
“How do you want to look?” Mona asked.
“I want to look like an amazeballs contract law attorney, ready to take on the world.”
Mona scrutinized me with a judgy pout. “Hmm, two questions…how old is your boss, and does he have a heart condition?”
“I told her to wear Spanx,” Mimi said. “If you want to take on the world, you’ve got to get your shape under control with Spanx.”
“Spanx!?” Mona snorted. “Why would she want to wear Spanx? If you got it, flaunt it. I have to shop for bras in the newborn section. I’d give anything to have Meg’s butt and boobs.”
“Get breast implants, silly, everyone has them these days,” Mimi said as the rest of the brownie disappeared into her mouth.
Mona got more comfortable on the bed. “I’m saving up. How big do you think I should go?”
With a mouth full of brownie, Mimi was limited to mimicking breast sizes to Mona with her hands. And of course, the sizes she had in mind were outrageous, which had Mona giggling. “I don’t think so. You want me to look like a freak!”
I couldn’t believe these two. “So, I guess we’re done talking about my dress now?” I hissed.
My words were not cold when Mom walked in. The giver of tough love, the lifter of spirits, the donor of mercy, the glue that held our family together through both the good and the bad. And at sixty, her love for family was never-ending. Even now, she was still the person I ran to when the world turned upside down.
She looked at me and slapped her hands to her cheeks in amazement. “Look how beautiful you are!”
My heart soared. “Thanks, Mom. You think it’s okay for the new job?”
Mimi and Mona stopped mid-conversation to gauge Mom’s reaction. The new job with the Belmont Trust was a sore point in this house.
Anyone who messed with this family was blacklisted and barred from discussion. And Isabel was family. And a Belmont man shattered her. He was dead to the Belfiores.
“This is the job with that man?” Mom asked, biting her lip with concern. “The one who broke sweet Isabel’s heart?
“I believe I’ll be working with his brother rather than him. But grudge or no grudge, it’s a job that will mean a lot for my future as a lawyer, and it’s only for one year.”
For half a minute, silence reigned in the room as Mom considered the situation.
Downstairs, the TV was blasting The Bachelor, and Pops was offering his free counsel. “Jenny, don’t give that stupid clown a rose! I wouldn’t trust him to pet-sit my rattlesnake...No, Jenny, no! Aw Jenny, now you’ve gone and done it!”
Mom stepped closer to me, framing my face with her hands. “The day you were born, you came out a fighter, and you never stopped carving out your place in the world. You’re a strong, beautiful girl, you know what’s best for you. The dress is perfect. Go get them, Megan Madonna Belfiore, you’ve got this.”
Yes, my middle name was Madonna — and the less anyone said about that, the better. It was Grandma’s name, and thank the gods, at least my parents had the sense to give it to me as a middle name and not as a first.
“I still think you should wear Spanx,” Mimi said, smacking the sweet glaze from her lips. “Even if it’s just to tame your too-muchness.”
I rolled my eyes. “Believe me when I tell you there is no one at that Belmont place that will even notice me in this dress, let alone get funny ideas. So, relax, will you? I don’t want to hear any more about the damn Spanx. For one, you can’t breathe in Spanx, and two…well, there doesn’t need to be a two because it won’t matter if you can’t breathe. Besides, too-muchness is not a word.”
Mimi stood her ground. “Oh, it so is. Look it up. I might not be a fancy lawyer, but I know too-muchness is a word. I’m sure it was invented for someone just like you.”
Pops stomped up the stairs, down the hall, and stormed in through the open door, immediately complaining to Mom . “Marcella! Jenny gave that schmuck a rose. She gave him a damn rose.”
As always, Mom calmed Pops, as only she could. “Sal, what did I say about watching The Bachelor? Are people you don’t know who give roses to people they don’t know really worth getting so upset about? Hmm, sweetheart?”
It was then that Pops noticed me in the velvet dress, and his mouth fell open. “ Piccolina! I almost didn’t recognize you. You wearing dresses now?”
“It’s for my new job,” I said. “I want to look nice.”
Again, the mood became very unsettled at the mention of my new job. Pops took a deep breath and cupped a hand over his mouth. “I thought you might have decided against taking it.”
“I signed a contract with them, Pops, before any of this happened. I’m a contract lawyer. Not taking the job will put me in legal jeopardy.”
Not that Roman would ever consider taking legal action if I told him to shove the job, but Pops didn’t need to know that.
Mom stepped in as mediator. “She’ll be working with the brother, Sal.”
Pops didn’t budge. “You mean the other bastard who made Isabel cry.”
This time, Mom turned the volume up on Elvis, swept into Pops’ arms, and smiled at him like he was her one and only. “It’s our song. Dance with me.”
Pops smiled, immediately distracted, clenching Mom as close to him as his belly allowed.
“Every song is our song!” he laughed and twirled Mom into a waltz as much as the small space let him. It was as if no one else existed. I couldn’t help but wonder how love like that felt.
Mimi grabbed Mona, and they started dancing too. And if Isabel had been here, we would’ve joined the party like we always did.
Usually, I was great at hiding my angst, but my heart was aching. Isabel’s sudden absence left a big empty space behind, and it was going to be tricky working around this sadness clinging to my insides.
I sat down on the bed, watching the impromptu party. Cannoli, our 6-year-old mutt, trotted in to see what the commotion was about and plopped onto the bed next to me for a belly rub.
Mom latched onto my gaze, picking up on my melancholy. She gave me that beautiful smile of hers as if telling me to take a deep breath because, eventually, everything was going to be all right.