garlic, and parsley. Take your time doing this and enjoy the aromas of each of these foods. Breathe deeply, allowing the tension and the need to dissipate. When everything is sufficiently diced and sliced, and you’re feeling less stressed, (this may take a double recipe) gather ingredients into a deep, narrow bowl and add the wine, being careful not to drink any of it yourself. Note: you may want to substitute a fruity vinegar depending on your conviction level. Slowly add the oil until the mixture is blended. Cover and refrigerate for at least 10 hours or longer to allow the flavors to meld together.
FIVE
Just A nother F utso
The afternoon slipped into evening and I still hadn’t cornered my mother. Every time I’d made a serious attempt to catch up with her somebody would stop me for a conversation. Mostly about what I thought Dickey wanted here.
As night gathered up the blue sky, and the party lights automatically turned on in the yard, I realized my mother, along with Dickey, was nowhere to be found. Uncle Benny said he’d seen Dickey go into the house with my mom, and Maryann said she’d seen Dickey strolling out toward the olive grove with Jimmy, but Aunt Hetty said she saw him get into his car and leave. Uncle Ray was positive he’d seen Dickey go into the barn with a woman, while Jimmy said he saw him walk toward the shops, and Aunt Babe said she’d just seen Dickey on the front porch sitting on the bench swing with Lisa a few minutes ago, but Zia Yolanda shook her head, called out his name and wept.
Tearless, of course.
“I’ve got to go, Mia,” Lisa said behind me. “But I’d like to buy a few bottles of oil to bring home to my mom. You know how much she loves your Limonato on her pot stickers.”
Lisa’s mom was a one woman ad campaign for our olive oils. Because of her, practically all of Chinatown bought our oils.
“I made up a case for you. I was going to bring it to the book signing today but . . . anyway, it’s in the barn. A gift to you and your family from me and my family.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said. “Ya know, your Aunt Babe is a riot. I love the whole Barbara Stanwyck thing she’s got going on. Don’t you?”
I’d never thought of Barbara Stanwyck. Perhaps because I wasn’t that familiar with her work, but Lisa knew all the classic movies. It was from them that her mom learned English. They were the only movies her mom allowed Lisa to watch in the house. Anything else was too risqué and off limits. Just going to a movie theater was a major event when we were kids and Mrs. Lin usually escorted us, so we rarely went.
“That’s who she is! I couldn’t figure it out,” I said as we made our way to the barn, the full moon illuminating our path.
“She had me when she told Dickey, “We’re both rotten.”
Aunt Babe had a way of getting right to the point. I wondered if Dickey was referring to her when he said I get even. Everyone knew the two of them had a lot of animosity for the past going on. Could she be the real reason why he was here? “She said that?” I asked.
“It’s from Double Indemnity, which I suppose you never read or saw the movie.”
“Nope. Not on my list.”
“Well, it should be. It’s great. The Phyllis character says, we’re both rotten, and Walter, her lover, says, only you’re a little more rotten.”
“Is that what Dickey said?” My stomach clenched at the thought. I loved Aunt Babe. She was my other mother.
“No. He just stood there and gave her the cold shoulder. Apparently, he didn’t get Turner Classics in prison. Shame. It might do wonders for those guys.”
I had to chuckle at the vision of burly criminal types sitting around a TV watching Easter Parade or Roman Holiday, which I knew were two of Lisa’s favorites.
“Maybe there’s another meaning to what Aunt Babe said to him.”
“What else could she possibly — ”
I shot her a look.
“I know your aunt outwardly hates him, but I think she’s still in love with
FIVE
Just A nother F utso
The afternoon slipped into evening and I still hadn’t cornered my mother. Every time I’d made a serious attempt to catch up with her somebody would stop me for a conversation. Mostly about what I thought Dickey wanted here.
As night gathered up the blue sky, and the party lights automatically turned on in the yard, I realized my mother, along with Dickey, was nowhere to be found. Uncle Benny said he’d seen Dickey go into the house with my mom, and Maryann said she’d seen Dickey strolling out toward the olive grove with Jimmy, but Aunt Hetty said she saw him get into his car and leave. Uncle Ray was positive he’d seen Dickey go into the barn with a woman, while Jimmy said he saw him walk toward the shops, and Aunt Babe said she’d just seen Dickey on the front porch sitting on the bench swing with Lisa a few minutes ago, but Zia Yolanda shook her head, called out his name and wept.
Tearless, of course.
“I’ve got to go, Mia,” Lisa said behind me. “But I’d like to buy a few bottles of oil to bring home to my mom. You know how much she loves your Limonato on her pot stickers.”
Lisa’s mom was a one woman ad campaign for our olive oils. Because of her, practically all of Chinatown bought our oils.
“I made up a case for you. I was going to bring it to the book signing today but . . . anyway, it’s in the barn. A gift to you and your family from me and my family.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said. “Ya know, your Aunt Babe is a riot. I love the whole Barbara Stanwyck thing she’s got going on. Don’t you?”
I’d never thought of Barbara Stanwyck. Perhaps because I wasn’t that familiar with her work, but Lisa knew all the classic movies. It was from them that her mom learned English. They were the only movies her mom allowed Lisa to watch in the house. Anything else was too risqué and off limits. Just going to a movie theater was a major event when we were kids and Mrs. Lin usually escorted us, so we rarely went.
“That’s who she is! I couldn’t figure it out,” I said as we made our way to the barn, the full moon illuminating our path.
“She had me when she told Dickey, “We’re both rotten.”
Aunt Babe had a way of getting right to the point. I wondered if Dickey was referring to her when he said I get even. Everyone knew the two of them had a lot of animosity for the past going on. Could she be the real reason why he was here? “She said that?” I asked.
“It’s from Double Indemnity, which I suppose you never read or saw the movie.”
“Nope. Not on my list.”
“Well, it should be. It’s great. The Phyllis character says, we’re both rotten, and Walter, her lover, says, only you’re a little more rotten.”
“Is that what Dickey said?” My stomach clenched at the thought. I loved Aunt Babe. She was my other mother.
“No. He just stood there and gave her the cold shoulder. Apparently, he didn’t get Turner Classics in prison. Shame. It might do wonders for those guys.”
I had to chuckle at the vision of burly criminal types sitting around a TV watching Easter Parade or Roman Holiday, which I knew were two of Lisa’s favorites.
“Maybe there’s another meaning to what Aunt Babe said to him.”
“What else could she possibly — ”
I shot her a look.
“I know your aunt outwardly hates him, but I think she’s still in love with
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