Every Boy's Got One (44 page)
Read Every Boy's Got One Online
Authors: Meg Cabot
Tags: #Romance, #Humorous, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction
To: Darrin Caputo
Fr: Holly Caputo
Re: I’m MARRIED!!!!
Well, I did it. Mark and I are married. I sent Mom and Dad a telegram, but they won’t get it until tomorrow.
Still, I wanted you to be the first to know.
I hope you’re happy for me. I’m over the moon, myself. The only thing that could possibly be better than this is if you were here.
Jane’s been so great—there was a snag with our paperwork, and they almost weren’t going to let us go through with it, but Jane drove all the way to Rome and perjured herself on our behalf, along with Mark’s friend Cal, who’s also thrown us the sweetest reception right here at Zio Matteo’s. He just gave the most elegant toast, and since I know Bobby collects them, I tried to write it down as best I could. It went:
“Thanks everyone for coming here today. I know not all of you speak English, so I’ll try to make this brief. I’ve known Mark Levine since the two of us were in OshKosh overalls. And though I haven’t always approved of every choice he’s made—I still think he should have gone out for the MLB instead of medical school, but he always did have a rescue complex, and wanted to save lives instead of hit homers for a living—this one—marrying Holly—is one even I can support. People in Mark’s field can’t leave anything well enough alone. They’ve even analyzed the chemical make-up of love. When we fall in love, our brains are flooded with something called phenylethylamine. It’s a stimulant that can be found in chocolate, and, like the effects of chocolate on the mood, it doesn’t last.
“But for the lucky few—and I believe Mark and Holly fall into this category—even as the human body builds up a tolerance to the “love” drug, other chemicals—endorphins—rush in. Endorphins are what flood the brain when long-term lovers touch. They’re what give them that secure, comfortable, old-shoe feeling. But to keep things from getting TOO comfortable—and keep them exciting—a healthy dose of naturally occurring oxytocin gets released too, increasing desire, and stimulating—
“Well, I think I can leave the rest to your imagination. Right now I’d like you all to just raise your glass and say, Congratulations, Mark and Holly. May your lives together be blessed with health, happiness, and many, many endorphins.”
Isn’t that sweet? Everyone else really seemed to think so. I had no idea Mark’s friend could be so eloquent. I think he really knocked poor Janie for a loop, too, because she just stood there staring at him with the funniest look on her face!
Whoops, Mark wants to dance again—more later. I hope you can read this, I have to admit, I’m a little tipsy!
Much love,
Holly
Travel Diary of
OK, I’m scared now. Something’s happened to Cal Langdon.
Seriously. It’s as if he snapped or something in the night. Maybe his Wellbutrin ran out. Or maybe he started actually TAKING Wellbutrin.
What gives???? First that thing this morning in the mayor’s office. Then this party he’s throwing for two people whom, at the beginning of the week, he didn’t even think should get married in the first place. He had to have spent a small fortune on all of this champagne alone.
And Holly just came up to me—three sheets to the wind, but whatever, it’s her wedding day, she deserves to enjoy it— and slurred, “Oh my Go’, Janie, d’you know what Cal did? D’you know what Cal DID?”
And when I asked what Cal did, she said, “He booked us a shuite—Mark and me—a deluxe shuite at a five shtar hotel right—on the beach—for tonight. For our wedding night. For a little honeymoon. All inclushive, dinner AND breakfasht…and there’s even a Jacuzzi tub in the room. AN INROOM JACUZZI. Have you ever heard of anything sho shweet in your LIFE?”
I had to admit that I hadn’t.
And that toast? WHAT ABOUT THAT TOAST???? THAT was not the toast of a man who doesn’t believe in love. Not at ALL. That was, in fact, an in-depth scientific DEFENSE of love. LONG-TERM love.
What was he THINKING?
Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s on drugs. That HAS to be it. He got up this morning with some diabolical plan to stop Holly and Mark’s wedding, and somewhere between trying to bribe the mayor into calling in sick and phoning a bomb threat into the Commune di Municipale building, someone slipped him a roofie. Or some E.
Except that if this were true, why is he currently dancing with Frau Schumacher in a completely sober (and yet completely engaging and charming) manner? He’s navigating her across the terrazza—ahem, and toward me—with perfect ease. In fact, Peter’s great-grandmother looks as if she just died and went to heaven, she’s so thrilled by the manly embrace she’s floating in. She doesn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that she’s dancing to “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Which is coming to its head-bobbing end shortly. Surely he’s not getting any ideas. You know, about asking ME to dance. Not after the dressing down I gave him last night. LIKE THE HUGE IDIOT I AM.
Oh my God. I’m actually considering APOLOGIZING to him for not kissing him last night. That’s how much he’s psyched me out with this sudden about face of his. I mean, endorphins? ENDORPHINS? He never said a word to me about endorphins. He was all phenylethylamine yesterday. Now suddenly he’s Mr. Endorphin?
“Oooooh, such a lowely party!” That’s what Frau Schumacher just said, as Cal twirled her into a seat near me, “Bohemian Rhapsody” having come to its rousing (and second in the past hour) finish.
Me: “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, Frau Schumacher. I had no idea you were such a good dancer.”
F.S.: “Me? I am nozing. Zees man, here” (clutching Cal’s hand. He, by the way, looks ready to flee to the other side of the room again)—“he is the party animal!”
Cal: (looking—I have to say it—sweetly embarrassed) “Now, Frau Schumacher. Don’t be modest. We know you must have been quite a party girl yourself once.”
F.S.: (dismissing this with a wave of her hand) “Vell, yes, of course. But zat vas long ago. Oh, the parties zey used to zrow at the headquarters of the Führer! Zis reminds me of zem, a little. Zere the champagne flowed and flowed, just like here.”
Cal and I exchange wide-eyed glances.
Me: “Excuse me, Frau Schumacher. Did you say… headquarters of the Führer?”
F.S.: (wide-eyed with innocence) “Yes. But of course. Zat is vhere I go as young girl to dance. Ven I vorked for theS.S..”
Cal: (stunned) “Frau Schumacher… you worked for the
S.S.?”F.S.: (waving her hand again) “Of course, of course. Ve all did! Vell, zat is vhat you did back then! Zere is more champagne?”
Cal hastened to refill Frau Schumacher’s glass. “Under Pressure” came on over Peter’s CD player, and his great-grandmother leaped back to her feet, declaring, “Zis is my faworite!”
Then she threw herself back onto the dance floor/pool deck.
Cal and I are staring at each other.
“We can never,” I warn him, “ever tell Mark and Holly that someone who used to work for the S.S. made their wedding breakfast.”
Cal shrugs. “Vhat’s the big deal, Jane? Ve all did it,” he says, in a perfect, deadpan imitation of Peter’s great-grandmother.
“Swear,” I say to him.
“Sworn,” he says. Then: “So. Still writing in that book, I see.”
Me: (unable to drag my gaze from his hands, which are looking even sexier holding a champagne glass than they did last night, holding playing cards) “Yes.”
Cal: “You’re not going to give it to them, then?”
Me: (Is it my imagination, or do his eyes actually match the blue of the sky above our heads?) “Give what to whom?”
Cal: “Mark and Holly. As a wedding present. The travel diary you’ve been keeping for them.”
Me: (He’s wearing a jacket and tie in honor of the occasion. Can I just say that he looks almost as good in them as he does without a shirt on?) “Oh, no. Not anymore. I changed my mind. Kind of the way you did.”
I know! Bold move on my part!
He looks confused. May I just say that confused, on him, is completely adorable?
Cal: “I beg your pardon?”
Me: “Well, this party, of course. When did you decide marriage is a good thing that ought to be celebrated instead of dreaded?”
Cal: “Oh, that. Well. Listen, would you quit writing in that book for a minute? It’s kind of distracting.”
Me: “But it’s my first trip to Europe, you know, and I don’t want to miss a minute.”
Cal: “If your head is constantly stuck in a book, you’re going to miss a lot.”
Me: “I’ll quit writing if you tell me what changed your mind.”
Cal: “Changed my mind about what?”
Me: “Holly and Mark.”
Cal: “Oh. Well. You, actually.”
ME???
Me: “ME??? But… when? Not last night.”
Cal: “Yes, actually. Last night.”
Me: “But I was so mean to you!”
Cal: “Maybe I deserved it.”
Oh my God, he DID start taking Wellbutrin! He MUST have! There’s no other explanation for this!
Me: “Okay, what gives? Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”
Cal: “I’m always nice.”
Me: “No, you’re not. What was all that saving the day down at the mayor’s office? You blew your perfect opportunity to save your friend from a fate you USED to think was worse than death. So what happened?”
Cal: “I realized I was wrong.”
Me: “About Holly and Mark?”
Cal: “About everything.”
Me: “EVERYTHING? Even that whole phenylethylamine thing?”
Cal: “Well—that’s a scientific fact. But everything else.”
Me: “But… how? Why? Did you pick up a prescription for anti-depressants while you were in town this morning, in addition to hiring a caterer and all of that? Because you are NOT acting like yourself.”
Cal: “Yeah, well, maybe I had a chance to see how I appear through someone else’s eyes, and I didn’t exactly like what I saw. Now will you put down that book and dance with me? They’re playing our song, you know.”
“Fat-Bottomed Girls” just came on again.
Nice one. Maybe he hasn’t changed that much, after all.
Which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. I mean, who wants a guy who can’t take—or make—a joke?
Cal: “Come on. Give me a chance to prove to you I’ve got one.”
Me: “Got what?”
Cal: “A heart.”
HOW DID HE KNOW????
And how can I say no?
To: Listserv
Fr: Peter Schumacher
Re: JANE HARRIS
Halloooo! I am writing to you having come home from the party for the marriage of the friends of JANE HARRIS! This was a very good party. If you were not there, I feel sorry for you! There was much feasting and champagne. Some people were getting very drunken. This was very comical!!!
Everyone has very good time when the car from the hotel come to take away the happy couple for their honeymoon. Then we decide to follow the car on our motorinos, because this is very fun. We stand beneath the terrazza of the happy couple at the hotel, and shout many comical things. Then the bride, she comes out and throws her bouquet to us! The bouquet was catched by Annika! Annika will now be the next bride in Castelfidardo (in American tradition)!
But this is not the most comical thing that happened at the party of the marriage of the friends of JANE HARRIS. The most comical thing was when JANE HARRIS was dancing with the very nice Cal Longdon (who gives me 20 euros to spend on MORE WUNDERCAT COMIX) and a very beautiful Italian lady arrive at the villa. She is called Graziella, and she come to see Cal Longdon.
Cal Longdon looked very, very surprised to see this woman. JANE HARRIS looked very surprised to see this woman, also.
Then JANE HARRIS pushed Cal Longdon into the pool.
This was most comical of all! JANE HARRIS is very hilarious—just like Wundercat!
This is Peter, #1 Fan of Wundercat, saying GOOD NIGHT!
Wundercat Lives—4eva!
Peter
To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Sal Caputo
Re: Hello, this is your father speaking
Hello! You didn’t know your father had email, did you? Well, I’ll admit we don’t have much use for it down at the shop, but I do like to have one for bidding on antique Electroluxes on eBay. You never know when you might find one that just needs a little tweaking to get it running again.
Anyway, what is this I hear that you and Mark got married today at Zio Matteo’s place in Marche? Is this true?
Well, if it is true, you have made your mother very sad. She is at church right now, making a novena for you. At Mass this evening she plans to petition for a prayer of the faithful to be said for your immortal soul.
I, however, want to be the first to say congratulazioni. Or should I say mazel tov? I know in the past your mother and I have expressed our concern about Mark not sharing our beliefs. But you are a big girl now, and you need to make your own decisions. I have always liked Mark. At least he understands how a motor works, unlike some of your brothers.
And, as I said to your mother, it will be a good thing to have a doctor in the family. Especially since I have a mole I would like for him to look at when the two of you come to visit.
Don’t worry about your mother. I will ask Father Bob to have a word with her.
And, of course, now she’ll be able to concentrate on making Mark convert. You know how she loves a project.
Much love,
Dad
To: Mark Levine
Fr: Ruth Levine
Re: Hello!
Mark. Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me that Marie Caputo, from whom I just received a nearly hysterical phone call, claiming one of her sons told her that you and her daughter have eloped, is suffering from a psychotic delusion.
Mark—what were you thinking? Do you know what you’ve done? What am I going to tell Gloria Schramm? I promised you’d call Susie just as soon as you got back to New York. Now you’re going to call her, not to ask her to meet you at the Cub Room for after-work drinks, but to tell her you’re married? The poor girl will have another one of her episodes. Last time they found her wandering around Fifth Avenue in nothing but Uggs and a pair of Spanx.
Tell me it isn’t true. Do you know how far in advance you have to reserve the reception room at the country club? A year! If you had just let me know you were planning something like this, I could have put my name on the list months ago, and we might have been able to have a nice party when you two get back. Now what am I supposed to do? Have people over to the house? You know we haven’t had the dining room wall replastered yet from when those stupid kitchen people accidentally drilled straight through while they were installing the new cabinets.
We
might
be able to get a room at the Marriott if they’ve had a cancellation. I’ll have to check.
And your father says now you’ll be paying taxes this year as if you were a married man for the entire twelve months, when you were only married for three of them. He says you should have waited until January.
What size coat does Holly wear? I’m going to look into having your uncle Isaac make her up a mink. And don’t go telling me she’s opposed to wearing fur, it gets very cold in New York, and if she’s going to be having my grandchildren, I want to make sure she doesn’t walk around with a headcold half the year.
You could have told us, you know, Mark. Your father and I would have loved a trip to Italy. You know the last place he took me was the Bahamas and it rained the whole time.
Love to you both,
Mom
To: Jane Harris
Fr: Claire Harris
Re: Holly and Mark
Honey! I’m so excited for them! I just ran into Marie at the Kroger Sav-On. She was carrying on about how God never gives you more than you can handle and that this just means more time in purgatory for Holly, you know, but I could tell she was over the moon. She was positively glowing.
Although that might have been because it’s unseasonably hot here for September.
Still, she was buying Lender’s bagels. Bagels! I asked her about them, and she very nearly blushed as she replied, “They’re for freezing. For when Mark and Holly come to visit, Then I’ll defrost them. He likes to have them for breakfast, you know.”
I think that’s a good sign, don’t you?
Anyway, I hope you’re still having a nice time. Daddy and I are fine. He did get a few acid burns while changing the battery in the Volvo, but Neosporin seems to be working just fine on them.
And just in case you got any ideas from Holly and Mark’s wedding, I hope you know your father and I don’t care WHO you marry, as long as you invite us.
Although I do think that Cal Langdon would probably look very nice in a tuxedo.
Love,
Mom
To: Jane Harris
Fr: Malcolm Weatherly
Re: Ciao!
Hey, babe. Haven’t heard from you in days. Hope things are okay.
Listen, I was just wondering—we’re not exclusive or anything anymore, are we? I mean, it’s okay to hook up with other people, right? Since I moved out? Because I sort of met someone. Just drop me a line and let me know, will ya? I don’t want to do anything to piss you off. But a guy’s got needs, you know?
Peace out,
Malcolm
To: Jane Harris
Fr: Julio Chasez
Re: The Dude
Hi, Ms. Harris. Listen, I was wondering—when are you getting back, exactly? Because The Dude, he’s—well, he seems like he misses you, or something. I mean, this morning when I went in to feed him, I caught him gnawing on the screen over the window, trying to get out onto the fire escape, on account of there being a pigeon there. He made a pretty big hole in it, actually. The screen I mean. My dad replaced it, though, don’t worry, and I shut the window all the way so he can’t do it again.
And just now he kind of bit me again when all I was trying to do was pet him.
So I was just wondering… when are you coming home, again?
I hope it’s soon.
Julio
