“Vivian, what a nice surprise. You know Mrs. Castello. I
think you went to school with her son Henry.
I’m sure you’ve met before.”
“Yes, good morning, Mrs. Castello. You know,” I said not to anyone in particular,” Barry's Bakery
has the freshest baked goods. I can
smell everything they make from my front window.” Mrs. Castello who is a very Italian looking woman was sitting in
one of mom’s Henry the VIII armchairs.
She had her arms folded about her chest and her hair was pitch black and
curly. Her nose was sharp and she had a
mole over her left eye. One eyebrow
looked as if it was permanently raised and etched on her forehead with black
tar.
“You live near my Henry.
He lives on East 72nd Street.”
“I have a condo on East 68th. How is Henry?” I asked
only to be polite but I knew--
“Married with four angels.”
“My hasn’t he been busy!” I have opened up the gateway. This conversation would only get worse. Mother was still in the kitchen and hadn’t
joined in. I knew she wouldn’t miss the
opportunity. I waited with baited breath to hear her footsteps in the hall
returning with the tea.
“He certainly is busy.
What have you been doing with your free time?” The nasty little woman said with a sneer.
“Scoping the scenario.”
I purposely set to agitate her.
Why should I indulge in the intricacies of my work or my social
life? I don’t care what she thinks
anyway.
“What?” She had the
most puzzling expression on her face. I
knew she wouldn’t understand the lingo anymore than she understood me and what
I did with my FREE time, as if.
“Yes, Vivian is still looking for Mister Right. She has high expectations you know. I’ve ruined her.” Mother smiled amiably as she walked in carrying a serving tray.
“I’m just not ready and I may never be ready.”
“Ready? What’s there
to be ready for?” shouted Mrs. Castello in disbelief. “In the old country, a girl was yanked away from the love of her
parents to be with a man she hardly knew.
Try to prepare for that!”
“I’m not ready for commitment. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m not ready to give up my freedom.” I sounded as if I was
pleading.
“Selfish,” she sneers.
“Can you tell me Livie, why these kids are so selfish? Wasn’t it enough what we went through with
their fathers that they would at least try to make us happy? Don’t you think your mother deserves grand
kids?”
I gave her my wide-eyed stare and changed the subject.
“I came over to tell you about a wedding I’ve been invited
to in Connecticut. You remember the guy
Robert I mentioned? The one I met when I
went to meet Bernadette in Mineola four months ago.”
“Oh, your telephone friend.
She met him once and hasn’t seen him since,” she tells Mrs.
Castello. “What makes you want to go on
a date with him now? I thought he was
too clingy.”
“Shish!” enunciates
Mrs. Castello. “Clingy is a good thing, a good thing! Tell her Olivia. It’s no wonder.” She sat up when she said that then sunk back into the chair.
“I feel that I’m in a rut.
At least, I’ll get to meet some nice people and who knows?” I sip my tea that is now cold, thanks to
Mrs. Commentator Castello.
“So you use him? Are
you going to say anything Livie?” She
is sweating from moving too much. Heavy
women shouldn’t get so annoyed.
“No, she is twenty-eight.
If she wants to remain single in this wicked city, that is her
choice. Besides, I want her to be
happy. Rushing into something, just
because, is not going to make her happy in the long run.”
“What is happy?
Isn’t it better not to be alone?
I’m glad that Henry finally settled down, even though I think he could
have found a better wife. I think he
picked the first thing he saw.”
“Well, Janice, he could have gotten someone even worse. So, she’s a little homey looking. She cooks and cleans and takes care of the
kids. What more do you want? Besides dear, you don’t have to live with
them.”
“I may, one day.
Then what?” sighs Mrs. Castello.
“Would you rather be in a home? Why worry about that now?”
I could tell that mom was getting bored with the whole thing
so I interjected. “What are you cooking
tonight, ma? Mussel coconut corn
chowder, herb-crusted Australian lamb, Norwegian smoked-salmon?” My mouth was watering.
“No dear, more like beef stew or tuna casserole. Something simple. I think your father is coming over for dinner, so try to get here
at five, if you are coming. Lately, he
hasn't been able to digest my gourmet meals.
Everything is too spicy or too heavy.”
“I've got to call Robert to find out what time the wedding
starts. It might be tonight; I didn't
bother to a