Chapter 22
Angie relished all the creature comforts she had become so accustomed to: their comfy chairs with her handmade crocheted blankets, familiar paintings and photographs on the living room walls.
The wooden sign mounted on the kitchen wall that Vinnie had bought her, engraved with “Home Is Where My Honey Is.” Her own pots and pans were a welcome sight, given what she had used at Gina’s, as was her treasured collection of fresh spices.
She had missed cooking in her own kitchen.
After her coffee and some yogurt, she got dressed and started to deep-clean the place.
It would take her the better part of the day, but she put on the morning TV game shows followed by her favorite soap operas as background and occasionally sat down to watch who was sleeping with whom.
She could feel Vinnie’s presence as she dusted and vacuumed and especially when she cleaned out the refrigerator.
Cans of Old Style beer, a few jars of sauerkraut, which she would never touch, and various hot sauces he collected over the years.
All those could stay for now. He would pour copious amounts of hot sauce on his morning eggs and then wonder every time why he had heartburn.
Angie always made sure he had bottles of antacids by his TV chair, next to his bed, and in his glove compartment.
After she washed and put away all the clothes that she had at Gina’s, she started to scan her wardrobe for just the perfect dress to wear to Gibsons.
As Angie pushed Vinnie’s clothes to the far end of the closet, she leaned into one of his shirts and inhaled. When the spicy scent of his aftershave filled her senses, her chin started to tremble. It was near a month since his funeral and her life had changed in ways she could have never imagined.
She left the closet, sat on the edge of their bed, and patted her tender heart.
It will be a long time before this new normal sinks in.
Be gentle with yourself in the meantime.
She let her tears flow, then blew her nose and went into the bathroom to rinse her face with cold water.
She looked in the mirror. “Best foot forward, Angie. You get to go have dinner with Ralph. Vinnie would want you to.” Angie remembered Vinnie’s words: “If I buy the farm, I don’t want you wearing black like those old Italian widow crows always do.
You live on. Go for the gusto and have fun; I’ll be smiling down from heaven.
” Why did it have to be so soon, Vinnie?
As she ran her hands through her hair, her thoughts returned to the contents of the storage unit.
She hadn’t decided yet if she would share what was in the storage unit with anyone, and she reminded herself she didn’t have to do anything with that information right away.
In the meantime, Vinnie had noted to move the journals that detailed all the payoffs into a safety deposit box at their bank, which she had done.
There was enough evidence in there to put Mario away if he didn’t give Angie the pension money.
She glanced at the kitchen clock; it was close to five.
“Yikes, I haven’t eaten lunch.” She assembled a plate of cheese, crackers, and olives, poured herself a glass of wine, and put on some Tony Bennett.
Angie nibbled on the treats and sipped her wine as she surveyed her dresses.
Several made her feel like a million bucks.
Her most glamorous girlfriend, Wanda, had taught her to dress up even when she was low, and it had always worked.
She took out a black fitted dress and a floral-colored silk one that flared out from the waist, deciding to wear the floral one.
She chose her red pumps. She had bought the outfit in Vegas after Vinnie had gotten a big win.
She showered, dressed, did her makeup, and even sprayed on her finest perfume, Black Opium.
Humming to Tony Bennett, she was ready for her date.
Angie kept peeking out the window and checking her watch. Her cell rang. “Hello, Ralph, is everything all right?”
“I went to your niece’s place and met Thad. I’m on my way over now. I have a driver for the evening so look for a black limo.”
“Goodness, I forgot to tell you I moved back home. Sorry about that. Long story, I can share over dinner.”
“Yeah, I should tell you I got in a bit of an altercation this afternoon. I have a black eye and broken nose, but it’s fixed. There’s a huge white bandage on my face so don’t be alarmed, I’m fine. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
Angie gasped and touched her throat. “You poor man, we should cancel. You need to go home and take care of yourself, for goodness’ sake.”
“Seeing you will make me feel better, and I want to take you to Gibsons as long as you don’t mind people staring at your date. I’ll come up with a good story. I’ll see you soon.” He ended the call.
Angie poured herself a little more red wine.
I wonder who Ralph got in a fight with? I didn’t take him for that kind of guy.
She stood by the window. It was a warm fall evening, and the leaves were just starting to turn shades of red, orange, and yellow.
And he met Thad. She couldn’t help but laugh a little thinking of a very stoned Thad greeting Ralph at the door.
The limo pulled up. Angie went downstairs and was greeted by the limo driver, who opened the door for her. “Good evening.”
“Good evening to you and thank you.” She slid in and then glanced over at Ralph. “Oh my God! Are you sure you want to go out? Your poor handsome face.” She kissed her hand, then put it gently on his bandage.
“Gibsons is holding our reservation, and we’re going to go directly to the table. I was hoping to have a cocktail in the bar, but we can have an after-dinner drink there if you’d like.”
“Let’s see how you feel; you’ve been through a lot. So, what happened?” Angie asked.
Ralph recounted the entire event, how gracious the hotel manager was, and how quickly he received medical attention.
“Who would walk into the Four Seasons, of all places, and punch you?” Angie asked.
“If I tell you, do you promise not to do anything about it?” Ralph said.
“Hmm, that’s not fair, but okay,” Angie said.
“It was Mario.”
Angie crossed her arms. “That son of a bitch.”
“Now, Angie, there’s nothing you need to do. I’m handling this. Let’s change the subject. How about your friend Thad?”
She laughed. “I’m sure he and his green-haired girlfriend were stoned.”
“And then some. He offered me a joint, but I declined. He’s a character.”
“He’s harmless and very kind,” she said.
The limo pulled up in front of Gibsons and the driver opened the door.
Angie and Ralph walked inside. Peaches looked up at Ralph and walked around the reception desk.
“Oh my Lord, man. What the hell happened to your beautiful face?” She placed her hand on his shoulder, leaning in a bit to get a close look at the damage.
“I’m fine, Peaches, thanks for your concern. Could you get us a corner table in the back so I don’t have to explain to anyone else I might run into?” Ralph asked.
“You got it, baby.” She handed the young, buxom hostess two menus with a table number in the back. They were seated without incident and perused the menus until their waiter arrived.
“Good evening, Mr. Conti, your usual?”
“Yes, please. Angie, would you like a cocktail?”
Angie sized up the handsome waiter who was sporting a waist-length, white linen jacket, crisply ironed shirt, and a tie secured with a Gibsons’ tie bar.
“What a fancy work outfit,” she said. “What would you suggest? I’m not a big drinker, maybe something a little sweet.”
“How about a lemon drop? It’s vodka with fresh-squeezed lemon juice and sugar around the rim.”
“Sounds yummy.”
Ralph leaned in toward Angie. “The steaks are the best in the city and the portions are very large. May I suggest we split a steak, baked potato, and some creamed spinach? We can enjoy their crab cakes as a starter.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Angie scanned the prices and consciously tried to keep her eyes from widening and her jaw from dropping, then looked up at Ralph and frowned. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Nothing a stiff martini won’t fix. I decided to skip my pain pill; I don’t like drugs.”
When the waiter brought over their drinks, Ralph ordered their meal. He lifted his martini and said, “Here’s to you, Angie. You’re a strong, kind woman. I’m glad we met, and by the way, you look very lovely tonight.”
They clinked glasses and Angie took a sip.
“This is a delicious drink; you can hardly taste the vodka. I bet these can get you into some serious trouble.” Fueled by her wine at home and now this, she let out a deep, gratifying sigh and added, “Thank you for the compliment. It has been quite an adventure helping Gina and Kim start a new catering company, and starting a new job—I’ve hardly had time to think. ”
Over the course of dinner, Angie explained Last Bite to Ralph and he chuckled at the creative name and the target audience.
“I know several businessmen who have funeral parlors throughout the Chicago area, and I’d be happy to introduce them to Gina and Kim when they’re ready. I can’t recall ever having any delicious food at any wake or funeral I’ve been to over the years, so they may really have something here.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea. I’ll be part of their team.
I’m planning to help them with all the culinary aspects, having worked in several restaurants over the years.
I know a thing or two about what folks like when it comes to comfort food.
” Angie enjoyed the last of her baked potato just as the busboy approached to clear their plates.