Page 47 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

‘Why?’Why, oh why couldn’t she just forget the past and love me as her own?

‘Because she’ll never forgive your mother for having you,’ Zia Maria explained simply. ‘You were what got in her way. And then she had to raise you as her own if she was going to have any chance of him marrying her. You were her only shot.’

‘And her only burden,’ I whispered. ‘Do I really remind you of her – my mom?’

Zia Maria chuckled. ‘Oh, yes – tremendously! You have the same eyes and the same stubborn streak. Your mother was the most similar to Nonna Silvia. They’d die rather than admit they were hurting. Rather fail than ask for help. Remind you of anyone?’

‘Yeah,’ I sighed. ‘It sure does.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about Marcy too much. She’s always been a bit unstable,’ Maria said softly.

But deep down, I knew there was more to it. Something bothering her tremendously. Something no one else knew.

10

Madonna Mia

The next morning, I got a call from Renata to tell me she was on her way over. Funny, considering she almost never called – and because she was a three-minute drive away.

Only this time she made it in two minutes flat.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ I said as I opened the door to her grave face, and my stomach fell. This was not going to be good – I could already tell.

‘Well… remember when you were wondering about Tasting Tuscany’s next miracle?’

‘Ye-es…?’

‘They’ve done it.’

‘Done what?’

‘Their next miracle.’

‘What did they do? Lower their rates even more? Hire dancing naked ladies? Hot virgins?’

Renata shook her head. ‘Only one virgin. Seen, or rather, filmed, wandering listlessly around the grounds, blue veil and all.’

‘What?’

‘There’s been,’ she snorted, ‘an apparition of Mother Mary. She appears to be attracting people in droves.’

‘For the love of God! Ooh, what they wouldn’t do for an extra euro.’

‘And what’s worse?’ Renata dared, cringing.

I grunted. ‘Just spill it out.’

‘They’re even selling T-shirts and videos of the apparition.’

‘Talk about milking it.’

‘I’m so sorry, Erica.’

‘Yeah, thanks.’

I had to see this for myself. Our rivals had accomplished the miracle of miracles, and people believed it. Because of what I’d done, not only were they getting more guests, but even the attached bar was also teeming with patrons. You could almost hear theka-chingof coins dropping into their laps and euro notes flittering down copiously upon them straight from – to the point – the heavens.

So I checked YouTube and stared at the footage on the screen. There she was, the Virgin Mary, wandering listlessly, just like Renata had said, down the road leading to the entrance. She looked pensive, sad. She looked…familiar.

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