Page 33 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

At that, I cringed inwardly and even Paul lowered his head into his hands. Anyone who hadn’t known The Complete Cantelli Family History had no idea what Julian had just stirred.

Marcy sat up. ‘You mean to tell me they’re no longerLowensteins?’ she squeaked.

This time, I put my own fork down, eyeing Maddy, who was staring at her grandmother, wide-eyed, while Warren continued to eat, but I could see his cheeks growing crimson. He remembered all too well what Ira had done to him and Maddy.

I patted his knee under the table and pulled Maddy closer to me. I could stop a bullet like this, but not Marcy’s words.

‘Marcy, they’ve never really been Lowensteins. And Julian loves them like his own. You know that.’

But Marcy was shaking her head.

‘I don’t see why you have to get married, though. That’s exactly when the fun ends and the trouble starts.’

‘Oh, come on…’ I said.

‘Marcy, please don’t ruin a perfectly good evening,’ Julian pleaded.

‘I mean it,’ Marcy insisted. ‘What happens if and when, with all due respect to you, Julian, the two of you split up? Do the kids go back to being Lowensteins again?’

Julian wiped his mouth and put his fork down, too. ‘Marcy, we’re not going to split up. Erica and I are solid.’

Marcy snorted. ‘So were Erica and Ira.’

‘That’s not true!’ I turned to Julian and whispered, ‘I mean… I did my best to-to…’ I bit my lip for the kids’ sake. How to downplay what was the worst time of my life? ‘We loved each other in the beginning, but it just didn’t work out. It was no one’s fault…’

Well, the truth was that Ira had discovered he wasn’t attracted to me anymore. So he’d left me. Well, sort of. He’d been playing with two decks of cards, as Italians say. You know, the usual cliché – the young, sexy secretary. Which was, in the end, lucky for me, because, as unhappy as I was, I would never have cheated on him or left him because of the kids. Killed him, maybe, but left him? No.

I don’t believe in half-baked situations. It was either black or white for me. In or out. And Ira hadn’t left me any choice – nor much money. Only a head full of dreams for a better life in Tuscany. Still, I couldn’t do it on just my budget.

That’s when Julian had appeared in my life, decided he was in love with me, swooped in and saved the day. After less than a year together, we’d moved lock, stock and barrel to Tuscany. Where he’d proved himself to be the best man a gal could fall in love with. But still today, whenever Ira was mentioned – and it was always Marcy who brought him up – my blood boiled.

‘So where is our invitation?’ she asked.

‘Erm, I haven’t sent them out yet…’

‘And when are you getting married?’

‘Some time in the new year…’

‘That’s pretty vague, don’t you think?’

‘Uhm, well, yes, but—’

‘No matter,’ she sighed. ‘It’s only June. We can still swing it if I pitch in. Honestly, Erica, why do you put yourself in these situations?’

At that, my heart began to kick at my ribs. ‘Pitch in? Thanks, Marcy, but Paul is organizing it. He’s just starting his new business.’

‘Well, then you’ll need all the help you can get,’ she said, turning to him. ‘It’s a good thing I came here when I did. Imagine, planning a wedding in less than six months!’

Paul’s face went white, but he composed himself, reached behind Julian for the dessert trolley and grabbed two slices of tiramisu.

‘Come on you guys,’ he chimed to Maddy and Warren. ‘Whoever gets to the pool first gets the biggest slice! I’ll talk with your mommy later!’

One quick look in our direction and when Julian and I nodded, they jumped out of their seats and chased Paul – plus desserts – out and down the staircase to the ground floor, happy to get away from The Cantelli inquisition. Or should I say slaughter?

‘Come on, Marcy, be happy for us,’ Julian chimed. ‘Your blessing is important.’

Man, could my guy act.

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