Salt Water Taffie (Boardwalk Brides Book 1) (4 page)

SIX

As she slipped into the backseat of her parents’ car with her sister at her side, Taffie’s thoughts tumbled a thousand different directions. First the movies. Now dinner. Would Ryan think they were following him? She didn’t have time to contemplate the question for long before being met with a barrage of questions from her overly anxious youngest sister. Tangie leaned in close and, like a detective on the hunt, started the first round of questioning.

“So, what’s all of this about you not dating? That guy is amazing.”

“I’m not. Seriously. I just met him today.”
But you’re right. He is amazing.

“Obviously you two have eyes for each other.”

“We do?”

“Taffie. . .” A scolding sound came into her sister’s voice. “I study acting. I know when you’re pretending. You can’t fool me.”

“I–I’m not trying to fool anyone. I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Tangie leaned back against the seat and gave her a know-it-all smile.

Taffie rested her head against the window and stared outside as her father pulled the car out of the theater parking lot. She pondered her sister’s words. Despite her admissions to the contrary, something about Ryan did tug at her heart. But why? And how, after only knowing him one day, could she feel anything for him? Sure, things like that happened in movies—like the one they just saw, for instance—but love at first sight in the real world? Simply didn’t occur. At least not in her world.

Not that she minded the idea. No, a real romance would be great, especially after so many years of waiting. For whatever reason, she just wondered if she’d ever be the princess in the story. More often than not, she took on the role of the overlooked, moderately-nice-looking-but-not-exactly-pretty sister.

Thankfully, she didn’t have time to give this idea more thought because their father pulled the car into the crowded parking lot of Three B’s and hollered, “We’re here, Carini family! Burgers, fries, and shakes—it’s on me tonight, ladies.” He reached over and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek and she grinned in response.

“We can’t stay too late,” Taffie said. “I’ve got to be early to church in the morning to get things set up for kid’s church. And I’ve still got to get my lesson ready when I get home tonight.”

“We’ll get you home before the car turns back into a pumpkin, I promise.” Her father looked back at her with a wink.

Good grief. Did that movie actually get to Pop, too?

Once inside, Ryan met them with Casey at his side. “My parents were just around the corner at the appliance store. They should be here any moment.”

True to his word, the couple—about the same age as Taffie’s parents—entered the restaurant, faces alight with joy. They took one look at Casey and swept her into their arms, speaking blessings over her as if she’d just achieved sainthood. What would it be like, Taffie wondered, to have a child to pamper? To whisper words of love in her ear and to feel her soft words echoed back in your own? She didn’t have time to give it much thought. Mrs. Antonelli greeted her mother with a warm hug, as if they were long-lost friends, then gave Taffie a hug, as well.

Minutes later, as the two families gathered around an extra-large table, voices layered on top of each other, much like the children’s in the candy store. Taffie observed it all with a smile. She liked Mrs. Antonelli right away, and apparently so did her mother. The two women were like twins separated at birth. They chattered a hundred miles a minute.

And the two fathers. . .well, the resemblance was almost uncanny. They both sported thinning hair, sparkling eyes, and vivacious voices. Like the women, they couldn’t seem to talk fast enough. Turned out the families—several generations back—were from nearby Italian villages. Go figure. And both families had undergone spiritual transformation in the ’70s. Just one more thing they had in common.

Ryan caught her eye from across the table. “You enjoying this?”

“It’s. . .crazy. Who would’ve known? Next thing you know, they’ll be telling us we’re distant cousins.”

“Hope not.” He gave her a wink and her heart skipped a beat. For once speechless, she shifted her gaze to the menu.

Not that she needed to worry about keeping the conversation going. Casey, it turned out, provided constant chatter and unending entertainment for everyone at the table. The youngster hollered across the crowd, “Grandma, you missed the bestest movie in the world! You would’ve
loved
it.”

“Would I?” Ryan’s mom looked up from her conversation with Taffie’s mother, clearly unaffected by her granddaughter’s table manners. “What was it about?”

“It was about a prince and a princess and they were in love.” Casey clasped her hands together at her chest and pretended to swoon. “They danced and they sang and it was so romantical!”

“Sounds like my kind of show,” her grandmother said. “Right up my alley. I love those happily-ever-after movies. They touch me. . .right here.” She put her hand to her chest and smiled, then turned to her husband and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Of course, I’ve already got my prince, and he’s mighty charming. Your grandpa won my heart thirty-six years ago, and he still has it.”

Mr. Antonelli leaned over and planted a kiss on his wife’s lips—right there, in front of everyone. Taffie glanced at Ryan and noted his cheeks as they turned crimson. He stared at the menu, but the edges of his lips curled up in a smile.

“I think that’s so sweet.” Tangie sighed. “I want a marriage like that.”

“All you have to do is find your prince,” Casey’s eyes took on a dreamy look. “And he will sing to you—and tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world—and then you will get married.”

“Oh, that’s all there is to it, huh?” Tangie gave her a knowing smile.

“Of course!”

As Casey began to sing one of the songs from the movie, Taffie turned to her younger sister and laughed. “She reminds me of you when you were her age. No doubt she’ll end up on the stage, acting and singing.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that!” Tangie shrugged in her usual playful way.

“Only, I don’t want to act on Broadway.” Casey wrinkled her nose. “I want to be in the movies, like that girl we saw in the movie tonight. She’s my age and she’s already famous.”

“You’re going to be famous, eh?” Tangie grinned, then whispered, “Been there, done that,”
in Taffie’s ear.

Casey nodded. “Oh, yes! Did you see her clothes? And her hair! She probably lives in a big house in Hollywood and doesn’t have to go to school.” A dramatic sigh erupted and everyone laughed in response.

“There’s a lot more to life than being famous, kid,” Ryan said. “Like homework, for example. Which reminds me. . .doesn’t school start next week?”

“Yes.” Casey groaned. “But
please
don’t ask me about math again, Uncle Ryan. Not tonight. I’m having too much fun.”

Taffie gave her a sympathetic gaze. Now
this
she could relate to. “You struggle with math?”

“Yes.” Casey dropped her forehead down into extended palms and let out an award-worthy groan. “I’m terrible with multiplication.”

“Just wait till she gets to fractions!” Tangie laughed. “They were always my downfall.”

“I hate fractions!” Casey shook her head back and forth, her brown curls bobbing every which way.

Out of the corner of her eye, Taffie watched as a lovely woman—probably in her early thirties—neared the table. Everything about her spoke of beauty and glamour. Her perfectly styled hair. Her polished nails. Her impeccable makeup job.

“Wow.” Tangie leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Who is that?”

As if in response to her question, Casey rose to her feet and yelled, “Mommy! You’re here. Am I staying with you tonight, or with Daddy?”

The woman’s face suddenly contorted as her daughter’s words rang out for all to hear. She put a finger to her lips, then whispered, “Use your inside voice, Casey. We’re not announcing our. . .situation. . .to the masses. Not yet anyway.”

              As the woman took her seat, Ryan made introductions. “Ladies, this is Mallory, my sister-in-law. She’s obviously Casey’s mom.”

“Is Daddy coming tonight?” Casey asked, looking back and forth between her mother and her uncle. “I can’t wait to tell him about the movie. It was so great, Mom. A love story with lots of singing.” Casey erupted in song once again, and for a moment Taffie thought Mallory might shush her, but the woman’s lips eventually turned up in a smile. Funny, how a child could have that effect on a grown person—even one with a somewhat sour disposition.

“I talked to your father a few minutes ago and he’s on his way,” Mallory explained, her face still tight. “He can’t stay long because he’s got some work to do on the computer tonight.” Under her breath she added, “Like that’s ever going to change.”

Taffie observed, for the first time all night, how Casey’s demeanor shifted. Sad, really, how a child could be so impacted by the adults in her life. Just as quickly, the youngster perked back up. Before long, she was cracking jokes and back to being the center of attention.

Still, Taffie couldn’t help but think that Casey was covering up for the pain of her parents’ separation. Out of the corner of her eye, Taffie caught a glimpse of Mallory. The woman, though perfectly made up on the outside, carried grief in her expression. How sad would it be, to marry someone, only to have that relationship disintegrate after just a few years? If only life could really be as simple as the movies. Then everyone—including innocent kids like Casey—would have a chance at their happily ever after.

***

With a smile that went all the way down to his toes, Ryan observed the interaction between Taffie and the other members of his family. If the Lord hadn’t led the Antonellis and the Carinis together, who had? Surely they were destined to meet. Funny, how a broken taffy machine had been the source of their meeting.

“So, you work on appliances?” Tangie posed the question to Ryan.

He drew in a sigh, then, just as quickly, looked up to make sure his father hadn’t seen or heard his reaction. No point in upsetting anyone. Not tonight anyway. “I’ve worked for my dad for the past couple of years. But I studied marketing in school. I really want to. . .” He stopped himself, just short of speaking the truth. He really wanted a business of his own, something he could be passionate about. He wanted Luke to do the right thing—to step up to the plate so that Pop wouldn’t have to work alone.

Thankfully, Tangie took the conversation and began to run with it, telling him about her most recent show in New York. He was happy for the diversion. Happier still that all of her animated conversation gave him a chance to focus on the one thing he wanted to focus on. . .Taffie.

Out of the corner of his eye, he took in her beautiful face, her dark hair—which she wore differently tonight than at the store—and her whimsical smile. He’d seen that same look of happiness on her face as she’d waited on customers. And now, with her family gathered around, she was clearly in her element.

For that matter, so was he. Ryan couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt so at home. His parents chatted with hers, lost in some conversation about RVs and traveling to see the wild, Wild West.

“So, your pop owns his own business.” Taffie turned her attention to Ryan. “What about your mom? Does she work?”

“She used to work as a party planner,” he explained. “You should’ve seen the theme parties she pulled off when we were kids.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Sure was. But it’s been years since she’s done that. She’s great at a lot of things. Her cooking is out of this world. But
”─
he increased his volume to make sure his mother took the bai
t─
“if you want to see her come to life, ask her about her dog.” Ryan leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms at his chest, waiting for the usual response from his pop.

“Oh?” Taffie looked across the table at his mother, whose eyes lit up at once. “You have a dog?”

“Dog, my eye.” His pop shook his head. “It’s a fourth child.”

“Only more expensive,” Ryan threw in.

“Snickers is not that expensive,” his mom argued. “Besides, she’s worth every penny.”

“Snickers?” Taffie repeated, her brow beginning to wrinkle.

“She’s a schnoodle,” Ryan explained. “Half schnauzer, half poodle.”

His mom’s expression brightened. “I just love to pamper her. She goes to the Doggy Spa occasionally to have her hair and nails done, and the vet bills are a little higher than most dogs because she has some rather, er, peculiar allergies.”

“Peculiar is putting it lightly.” Ryan laughed. “She’s allergic to grass.”

“Wow.” Taffie laughed.

“And dust mites,” he added. “And my father’s deodorant.”

“Hey, I switched brands,” his father threw in. “Didn’t want Snickers to suffer on my account.”

“Heavens, no,” Ryan said. “The dog will never suffer, not with all of the attention she gets. They’re even using a new fabric softener because Snickers was allergic to the sheets on their bed. Heaven forbid, the dog would sleep on the floor. And Mom makes Snickers’ dog food. Homemade. From scratch. She’s definitely more like a child than a dog.”