Page 68 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

I speared him with an icy look. ‘You think this is funny? Terry’s not to be trusted. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘That if he told you all the pantiles on the rooftops in Castellino were made of gingerbread, you’d believe it.’

Julian looked at me and then went all stony and defensive like I’d never ever seen him before. The look on his face made me stop and think I was being a bitch. I shouldn’t be so aggressive. This man had saved me.

‘I’m sorry, Julian. I just don’t want you to get duped.’

‘I won’t get duped,’ he insisted.

‘Oh, trust me, you will. You know I’m good at reading people and he… he scares me. He’s not a friend of yours. All he wants is all the money you can make him. Every time he sees you, his eyes light up in dollar signs.’

Julian shrugged. ‘That’s what agents do.’

‘No. There are agents, and then there are good agents. A good agent takes care of his people. But Terry only takes care of himself. Can’t you dump him and just keep Sienna?’

Whoa, had I just suggested that? You see, I am a selfless woman who cares about her man’s career, after all!

‘Erica, I had three completely different careers before I even met you. I don’t need you to worry about me. Besides, Sienna is my European agent. Terry knows the other side of the pond like the back of his hand.’

I glanced at him as I finished prepping mypanzanella. What was happening here? Before Terry and Sienna had come into our lives we were just fine. I was his sounding board. I was indeed his Victoria Beckham, but now, apparently, he didn’t need my opinion anymore. Now wasn’t the time to drag out all my insecurities. I didn’t want to seem needy to him.

I shrugged and with all the indifference I could muster, said: ‘Suit yourself, superhero.’

He’d noticed the shift in my demeanor. And he didn’t like it. So he tried a different tactic.

‘Hmm,panzanella– looks great.’

‘It’s not for now. It has to sit in the refrigerator for a few hours,’ I explained. ‘I’ll save you some for when you get back.’

Julian took my hand. ‘And when I do, for your once-a-week reward, I’ll bring back a nice dessert and we can have a late night, just the two of us, on the terrace under your beloved pergola, how’s that?’

I turned to him, unable to hide my concern. He acknowledged it with a sweet, resigned smile that meant we were good again, that no one could come between us. And that, come hell or high water, we would find a way to get married.

I took his face in my hands and whispered, ‘Hurry home, future husband.’

14

Back to Back

After my final dress fitting at Fiorella’s Bridal Shop and a few confirmations for the car, the flowers, a simple restaurant, Alberto, Padre Adolfo, we were ready to book a date—August 20th! This afternoon I’d shoot my family (now there was a thought) and my in-laws a blanket invitation and I was done! With one week to target, all that was left was getting the bride ready! As I was grooming myself for the return of my own groom that afternoon, I pushed an arm into the shower stall to turn the water on for my shower, twisting at the waist to avoid the jets, when I froze in that position, knives of pain shooting up my back. After several tiny warnings, this time my back gave out completely. Julian had warned me.

‘Owowowow…’ I groaned helplessly, afraid to move a muscle as water already rained down onto my head, through my hair and onto my face.

That’s what an old bag like me got for soaking endlessly (and in my case recklessly) in the bathtub or in the pool and not changing into something dry afterward. Who did I think I was, the swimmer Katie Ledecky?

I reached out, grasping for the faucet only a few inches beyond my reach as a spasm rocked up my back from tail to neck, and I fell to my knees in agony, my upper body in the stall, my legs sprawled out behind me. And then I was like a larva, completely unable to move. Damn Pilates! Damn Mr. Clean!

I lay paralyzed by pain as the minutes dragged by and I was completely soaked now. I couldn’t think of a single way of getting out of this predicament. Call for help? Never in a million years – I’d have to deal with a million I told you sos.

When I was floating, not only was I easing the weight off my back, but my mind was also at ease – way worth a few odd twinges here and there the next day. Had I inherited my Nonna’s arthritis? Except this was unprecedented. Never ever had I been glued to the floor afraid even to lick my lips. Even my hair was starting to hurt.

But there was no way I was going to lie here for the rest of my days, so I attempted to wrench myself out of the stall and was stopped by my arm, which seemed to have lost any will to live. Or move. There was no more pain now so much as a strange numbness that had spread to my legs and arms. If I lay here, perfectly still, I was OK except for my throbbing headache developing due to the fact that I was under a freezing shower (I hadn’t managed to turn the hot water yet).

With a deep, deep breath, I made another attempt to move, figuring if my whole body was numb, it wouldn’t hurt, right? Wrong. Out of my entire body, the one part I needed to work, my spine, was the only thing that didn’t even understand the concept of numbness. It was wide awake and howling in alarm, refusing to budge a single inch.

But wait – if I crouched like this, like a cat, arching my spine way out of whack so I looked like I was praying to a tiny insect on the floor, it actually didn’t hurtthatmuch. I tested my new position, managing to breathe even. Still with my back arched, I crawled backward, banging my knee, but the stars dancing in my eyes were nothing compared to when I actually, in the same breath, tried to straighten my back slightly because I was getting cramps. Now what? And then there was a knock on my door.

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