Beyond Blonde Read Online Free PDF Page B

a list.”
    Kit came in with the cheeses, Sarah had two plates full of the pickles and breads, and Madison held the biggest platter heaping with smoked meats.
    “Good girls.” Mama patted Sarah’s cheek. “You learn vell.”
    Wait a second. “But, guys … unless he got it while he was in prison, Papa does not have a driver’s licence!” Why was I the only one who ever thought of these things?
    Madison’s eyes widened. Even Kit looked impressed as she gnawed on a slice of salami.
    “Pshhhaw,” said Auntie Radmila as she went for the cheese plate. “Your Papa vas a very good driver in Poland, in Yugoslavia, in Hungary, in every place.”
    “Ya,” snorted Auntie Eva, “especially ven he vas sober.”
    “Okay, and while that’s good, the thing is, see, he still doesn’t have his—”
    “Let it go.” Madison patted my hand. Kit nodded.
    Jesus God, I was getting Auntie advice from the Blondes. It was like being dropped headfirst into an alternative universe.
    We spent the next hour sorting out the details of the funeral. I kept taking notes. I should have felt worse than I did, really. Worse for Auntie Eva and definitely worse for poor old Luigi. But then again, I hardly knew him. Still, a good, religious-type person would have felt worse. Instead, I’m ashamed to say, I felt kind of important. We decided that there were going to be no viewings. Auntie Eva said she’d had enough of viewing dead husbands and lovers. The church, however, had to be covered in white gardenias and white roses.
    “Wow, that’s so sweet,” said Sarah. “His favourite flowers?”
    “No darling,” she tweaked Sarah’s cheek, “mine. He liked carnations like our Sophie. Carnations!” She shuddered. “I ask you?” Sympathetic shuddering from the Aunties and Madison.
    It was going to be a full Catholic mass. “Sophie, you vas baptized Catolic,” Auntie Eva announced. “And you vent to za Catolic schools two times. You must talk to za priest, okay?”
    “Me? But I don’t actually have any Catholic training, remember? We lied to them about that part to get me into those schools!”
    Silence.
    “No first communion, no confirmation …” I really don’t know why I bothered.
    More silence.
    “I don’t even remember how to fake being Catholic!”
    No one said anything at all for a very long time. Many silent seconds ticked by.
    “Fine, I’ll go talk to the priest.”
    Auntie Eva snatched me into a massive smother hug.
    More God stuff.
    “And say zat you are Luigi’s niece,” said Auntie Eva.
    “You want me to lie? Outright? To a priest?”
    “Pa da,” said Auntie Radmila.
    “But it’s the Catholic church!”
    “Exactly,” sniffed Auntie Eva. “You know how zey are, unless you are a good Catolic, zey vill never cooperate. Ve are not related vit poor Luigi, and he vas such a big Catolic.” She paused here for a moment while we watched her eyes well up again. “You vant ve should bury him in a ditch?”
    “Well no, geez,” I moaned. “Of course not. I guess.” Unbelievable, I was right back to lying my face off to Catholic clergy. “When?”
    “Oooh!” Auntie Eva glanced at her watch and hustled over with my jacket. “You must go right avay fast to talk to za priest. Fazer Gregory in za church around za block is expecting you zis minute. Our Lady of Perpetual Sobbing.”
    “Sorrow!” I said, even though she was grieving and everything.
    “Zat is vat I said!” She blew her nose. “Mainly. Ven yourhead is full of sobbing your heart is full of sorrow, and za Catolics know zis.”
    We all nodded like that was a comprehensible sentence and everything.
    I was hustled out of Auntie Eva’s and found myself in the vestibule of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow before I really knew what had happened. The church was empty, just me and all those statues and stained glass. It felt good. Lazy afternoon sunrays snuck through the clear bits in the windows, warming the carved oak and playing with decades of dust.