Taming Theresa (32 page)

John reached under the table and squeezed
Theresa's hand. He leaned in and whispered, "I love you. I can't
believe all this is happening."

From the head of the table, Dominick held up
a hand for silence. He regarded his daughter and John with a
serious expression, then turned and grinned at his wife. He rose to
his feet and spoke.

"I would like to propose a toast to John and
Theresa. May they have a long and happy life together and may God
bless them with many children, Salute!"

“Here you go guys.” Kay nestled an enormous
platter of crispy onion rings in the center of the crowded table.
“Let’s see, four hamburger platter specials and a giant onion
ring.” Winking at Theresa, she commented, “Maybe that will hold you
for a while, John.”

“I love you Kay,” John murmured, popping a
crunchy ring into his mouth.

“He’s got some nerve. Sweet talking me right
in front of his bride-to-be,” Kay smiled at the friends seated
around one of the large round tables at the tavern. “Anything else,
folks?”

“We’re good. Thanks,” Jack said with his hand
out, waiting for John to pass the platter of Ralph's famous onion
rings. “We might need another order of those for the rest of us,
though.”

“Better enjoy them now, before I change the
menu,” teased Theresa. “Daddy will close the deal soon. I’ll be
ordering that big Italian flag to hang up right after we paint the
outside in Italian red, white and green.”

"Can you believe she'd do that?" John
complained, pointing an accusatory finger at Theresa. "She’s been
playing games with me, the whole time."

Kay held her hands up, “I don’t want to hear
about the games you two have been playing! I’m outta here.”

“Seriously!” John pointed with a crispy brown
circle. “She’s talking about turning this place into an Italian
restaurant with red and white checkered tablecloths and candles
stuck in Chianti bottles. Can you believe it?" He squirted a
drizzle of ketchup over the pile of onion rings he’d heaped onto
his plate.

Jack and Vicky laughed, ignoring John; they
tackled their burgers with appreciative moans of pleasure.

“You love my Italian food,” Theresa said, as
she tossed her wavy hair over her shoulder and smirked before
snatching an onion ring off of John's plate".

He gave her a sultry look. “What I love is
your Italian...”

Theresa’s hand shot out and her fingers
covered his lips. “John!”

“She does have a twisted playful streak,"
Vicky said, grinning mischievously. "Guess you'll have to learn to
live with it John."

"You knew all along that your father had no
plans to make any serious changes here," he said, pointing his fork
at Theresa. "I was majorly pissed, until it occurred to me that the
tavern is on the registry of historic buildings. You can't make
structural changes or alter the appearance without getting
approval."

“But I could mess with the menu...,” Theresa
trilled.

John gave her a heated look. “But you love
me, so you won’t.”

“Hey, some sausage and manicotti on the menu
wouldn’t hurt my feelings,” said Jack.

“Grandma Buonadies’ manicotti is to die for,”
added Vicky.

Theresa shrugged, biting into her juicy
burger. "John had no confidence in my ability to manage a
restaurant. He just assumed I’d ruin his precious tavern, so I
played along. Besides, he has no sense of humor. I can't believe he
actually thought I was serious.”

"I'll bet Uncle Dom knew," said Vicky.

"I'll bet you're right," said John. “He
always seems to know everything that’s going on, and what he
doesn't, he makes it his business to find out.

"It's creepy.” Vicky gave a little shudder.
“When we were little kids, Terry and I could never get away with
anything. He always knew!"

"Yeah, you can never get anything past
Daddy,” Theresa agreed. “My Uncle always said he was psychic. You
know Vicky, Daddy said the same thing about you. Sometimes you
seemed to have some special intuition."

“Since when?” Jack said, looking at his wife
with raised brows.

“Have you guys set a date for the wedding
yet," asked Vicky, shrugging off her cousin's comment and changing
the subject.

"Ma is having a ball with the wedding plans.
She's picked the first Saturday in June, and is making lists of all
the things she wants to do. The guest list is getting longer every
day, and we haven’t added John’s family yet.”

"You were such a big help with our wedding,"
said Vicky. “Let me know if there's anything I can do. It's a lot
of work. You guys have no idea."

The two men looked at each other, did a
double eye roll, and shrugged.

"I'm serious," said Vicky. “There are a
million little details, especially in New Jersey. Trust me. A
Jersey Italian wedding is a very big deal. You'll see what I mean.
It'll be absolutely awesome. Am I right Terry?"

Theresa did an eye roll of her own. "Things
are getting crazy already. You guys really don't have any idea at
all. I'd like a nice quiet church wedding, but Ma is making this
her number one full time job. The decorations, the music, the
reception, the food...oh my god, you can't believe the food she's
planning!"

"Hey, I'm looking forward to the food," said
Jack.

"Why wait until June? I think we should have
a Christmas wedding," said John putting down his fork and sitting
back in his chair. What could be more beautiful than a decorated
church at Christmas?"

She leaned over and kissed John. "I love the
idea. It would give Ma less time to drive us crazy with her plans.
Seriously, do you think you can change her mind?"

"Sure. I only have to mention grandchildren
and she's putty in my hands."

"I don't know, John,” Vicky said skeptically.
Aunt Rose has been planning that wedding from the day Terry was
born."

"While we're on the subject, I’d like you to
be my best man. Will you do that for me?"

"You know I will. I'd be honored, thanks for
asking me," said Jack looking pleased.

"That's so nice, Terry's asked me to be
matron of honor," said Vicky delighted at being paired with her new
husband.

Jack reached across the table and motioned
for John to pass the onion rings. "Come on, give. I want my share
before they disappear."

"I'll get another order," said John.

"Come on, guys. There's plenty," said Theresa
sliding the dish towards Jack.

"But when Ralph leaves, his secret recipe
goes with him. We’d better eat all we can now. Hey, isn't that
Chris Owen, the FBI guy?” Jack said, looking towards the bar. “I
thought they’d left town.”

"That's him," said John, watching the agent
talking quietly with Ralph at the bar.

"I hope this doesn't mean more trouble," said
Jack. “We just finished cleaning up after their last visit."

"Why should it mean trouble, just because the
FBI is back in town?" asked Vicky.

"Harrumph,” John growled. “He’s from the
government isn't he? That always means trouble.”

“Maybe not trouble for Diane.” Theresa looked
thoughtful. “He seemed so interested in her at the wedding. They
were dancing all evening. I mean until....”

Jack spoke up, “I don’t know, it might have
just been part of his cover. Maybe he was trying to blend in by
dancing with her.”

Vicky looked up, “Oh that’s mean. She looked
so happy with him.”

“He sure seemed interested to me,” said
Theresa.

Kay came over to check on them. “I guess we
won’t need a doggy bag for this table," she commented as she
cleared the empty dishes and headed back to the kitchen.

"Jack, what about another giant onion
ring?"

"John! Terry and I have champagne and
chocolate mousse waiting for us at home," said Vicky."

"I know, but the onion rings are leaving
Pippin's Grove forever," John moaned.

Vicky looked up surprised, "But John,
wouldn't Ralph share the recipe with us?"

"No way. I've personally seen him turn down
an offer of five grand by some restaurant owner from New York."

Smiling, Theresa sipped her tea and admired
her beautiful engagement ring.

"Five thousand dollars?" Vicky couldn't
believe it.

"Ralph was a navy cook. He joined up during
the Vietnam War. Sailed all over the world for years." John drained
his beer and leaned back." I don't know where he got his recipe,
but he claims it's his own. All I know is he retired from the
service, came here, and bought the tavern. He's been here ever
since."

"He does all the cooking by himself?" asked
Vicky.

"Of course he has other short order cooks,
but he always makes the onion ring batter himself."

"The place won't be the same without Ralph,"
sighed Jack.

Theresa leaned over and kissed John's cheek,
tickling his ear lobe. She whispered gently in his ear, "Do you
want it?"

John turned to her, all thoughts of Ralph and
his onion rings gone. His eyes raked over her lush figure, admiring
every rounded inch of her. He slipped an arm around her pulling her
closer and growled, "You know I want it."

"Well, I have it," she said, giggling.

"I know you do," he said trying to kiss
her.

"No," she said sliding out of his grasp,
laughing. "The onion ring recipe."

Abruptly, he straightened up. "What?"

"Ralph gave me the recipe," she repeated.

"No way."

"So don't believe me." She turned to Vicky.
"Ralph is really a sweet guy."

Something twisted in John's gut. "What did
you have to do to get that recipe from him?"

Theresa smiled enjoying her moment. "I asked
him and he wrote it down for me."

Jack and Vicky burst into laughter at the
dumbfounded expression on John's face, and then he grinned,
grabbing Theresa in an embrace. Kissing her he murmured, "I love
you."

She tried to wiggle out of his arms. "Cut it
out, John. We're in public."

He sat up, releasing her reluctantly. "You're
right." He looked over at Jack. "Listen, when we're done here maybe
you'd help me get my wine out of Ralph's cellar. I have about three
cases stored here from my trip to Italy. Ralph wants me to move it
over to my place before the sale goes through and they start work
on the renovations."

"Sure. I always wanted to get a look at that
cellar," said Jack. "I hear parts of this building date back to
revolutionary times.

"That's right," said John. "When the original
tavern burned, the owners used the same field stone foundation to
rebuild."

"Do you mind if I come too? I'd love to see
the basement," said Vicky, barely able to suppress her
excitement.

"Yeah, me too Vic," said Theresa noticing an
odd look in her cousin's eyes. She'd seen that look before and
realized Vicky knew something she wasn't telling.

"Sure, we'll have a tour," said John, getting
to his feet and stretching. "Just watch out on those old stone
steps. They're pretty worn down."

When John pulled the cellar door open, the
smell of damp earth rose out of the darkness. He threw a switch
hidden behind the doorframe and they started down, Vicky darted
under his arm and led the way. At the bottom of the steps, they
stopped and looked around. Everything was dusty and festooned with
cobwebs. There were doors to left and right into separate storage
rooms. In dim recesses, spare furniture was stacked alongside
ancient wooden liquor boxes. A neat pile of lumber, buried under a
thick layer of dust, was stacked against a far wall.

"I've never been down here before," said
Jack, looking around.

"The floors are packed earth, except for the
brick in these side rooms," commented Theresa. "Amazing!"

"Ralph's got some wine and a few other things
stored in this room.” Theresa went in to check out the tavern's
wine selection.

“My boxes are over here," John said, heading
for the room on the left, but Vicky was there ahead of him,
studying the room with intense interest. The other’s followed John
into the storage room where one wall was entirely covered with
rustic wooden shelving, empty except for the three cases of Italian
wine he'd mentioned.

"Hey Jack, let's get the wine out into my
truck and we'll come back and scope out the place." As the men
carried the boxes upstairs, they failed to notice Vicky pacing from
one end of the cellar to the other, looking curiously into the
storage rooms on either side. When they returned, she was back in
the empty room they'd just left.

Jack ran his hand over the planking of the
wooden shelves, disturbing a thin layer of dust. "This wood looks
ancient."

"Ralph tells me that those, along with the
stone foundation walls, are all original to the first tavern that
burned," said John.

It was cold and damp in the cellar and Vicky
shivered as she examined the walls closely, walking slowly from one
end of the room to the other. She rubbed her bare forearms, in an
attempt to warm rising goose bumps. The temperature can't be that
low in here. What was it that was so familiar about this? Her gaze
kept returning to the paneled space above the shelves. Vicky turned
with a strange expression. "I know it's got to be in there."

"Victoria honey, are you okay?" asked
Jack.

She didn't answer but walked past them to the
other end of the cellar, examining the dusty furniture,
searching.

"Vicky, what are you looking for?" asked
John.

"I need something to step up on, like a chair
or something." Her voice sounded hollow, echoing in the cold
expanse of the stone cellar.

John retreated into the other storeroom and
came back with a folding step stool with Theresa at his side. "Will
this do the trick?"

"That's perfect. Put it in front of that
shelving, please." Hurrying after him, she climbed the stool and
stood on her toes reaching up above the top shelf. Vicky felt
carefully as she ran a hand over the foot wide panels. The wood was
dark with age and felt dry as old bones. "It's got to be here. I
saw her put it here." she mumbled to herself, and then paused,
frowning. "Wait. John, are there some tools down here? I think a
screwdriver would do it, or maybe a chisel?"