Beyond Blonde Read Online Free PDF

hot on her heels.
    “Sorry.” Madison winced. Auntie Radmila and Auntie Luba shrugged. “But maybe we have to try to find them for the funeral at least and for, well, the will, and so on, you know?”
    Mama came back while I was pouring coffee, and she threw her arms around me. “Dey vas very, very, distantly distant cousins.”
    “Mama, I’m pouring here.”
    “How do you know they were so distant, Mrs. Kandinsky?” asked Madison.
    “Da lawyer,” said Mama.
    “Pa da,” agreed Auntie Radmila, “za lawyer.”
    I put the carafe down. “What lawyer?”
    “Za von vit za vill,” said Auntie Luba sweetly.
    “Well, that must have broken some land speed record.” Kit shook her head.
    “Formidable,” agreed Madison, whose entire family, up and down both sides, were lawyers, law professors, judges, or all three.
    “And …” I urged.
    “He vas very fat,” said Auntie Luba.
    “Da!” nodded Auntie Radmila. “His feet vas very fat, he—”
    “Guys!” I interrupted. “The will. Do we know what’s going to happen?”
    “ Pa sure,” shrugged Mama.
    “Amazing,” said Madison. “Grandfather will be stunned to hear how fast this went through.”
    “Ya, stunned! I don’t know how za voman does it.” Auntie Radmila went for the brandy bottle. “Luigi arranged for everyting. If za untinkable vas to be tinkable, he vanted his little jevel to be protected.” The sobbing in the bedroom ratcheted up a notch at “little jevel.”
    “Wow,” said Kit and Sarah at the same time. “So what did she get?”
    No one was startled or offended. It was a perfectly decent question at least in this company.
    “So, he left his little house in Little Italy to za removable cousins, Maria and Mario.” Auntie Radmila downed her brandy in one go. “Zen, za business, Pescatore’s White Night Limos vit za tree black cars and za super stretchy vite von, all his investments, his cash monies … all goes to Eva!” She poured another shot. “It’s crazy! Za voman is already a multimillionaire from za ozer dead and divorced husbands. She didn’t even have to marry zis von!”
    “I’m hearing zat, Radmila!” came a warning shot from the bedroom.
    At least she’d stopped crying.
    “I’m telling you true!” countered Auntie Radmila. “My tongue should fall out and I should step on it if I lie!”
    Sarah flinched at the image.
    “But … she doesn’t even drive,” I said. “How can she run a limo company?”
    Mama shrugged. “Vat can I say? Da voman has a gift.”
    Auntie Eva emerged from the bedroom fairly dry, but her beehive was askew.
    Papa blew in just then. I flashed him a massive smile. A big part of that smile was a coded but compelling message reminding him to come home soon. We’ve been talking about subliminal messages in English this term and I’ve been practising the smile ever since. It’s a damn good smile. Frankly, I don’t understand why he hasn’t moved back yet, especially since I noticed that Mama was offering up the same smile. Mama didn’t need a class on subliminal anything.
    Mama helped Papa unload two shopping bags brimming with kielbasas, salamis, smoked meats, olives, pickles, rye andcorn breads, and a half a dozen cheeses. They looked so right unpacking together. It was brilliant to see, even though they didn’t talk much. They probably didn’t have to. Long-standing deep love is like that. Someone on the CBC said so just last week. Papa waved at the Blondes, kissed me, grabbed the photos for the papers, righted Auntie Eva’s beehive, and was off.
    “Who was that masked man?” I asked.
    “Zat vas your Papa, you funny-pants girl,” smiled Auntie Luba. “He is very too busy. He must to go to za florist, za church, za funeral home, za newspapers, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”
    “Uh, how is he doing all of this?” I asked. The Blondes were already in the kitchen looking for platters to present the food.
    “Vit von of za black limousines,” shrugged Auntie Eva. “He has