Free Swinging on a Star by Janice Thompson Page B

either. And I’m a little distracted right now, Bella. Once I finish up here, I have to figure out how to memorize those lines they’ve given me to say next Friday.”
    “Lines?” I smiled. “I have the perfect idea. Get Brock to help you. He loves running lines with people. Told me so himself.”
    Rosa looked over at me, relief in her expression. “Oh, Bella! That’s a wonderful idea. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”
    “Well, you’ve got a few other things on your mind.” I walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I know I’ve already told you this, but it’s worth repeating. I’m so thrilled for you, Rosa. You’re the best cook I’ve ever known. If anyone deserves a spot on national television for their cooking, you do.”
    “Humph.” Laz walked through the room, reached over to snatch a piece of chicken, then kept walking.
    Rosa sighed as he disappeared from view. “What am I going to do with that man, Bella? He drives me out of my ever-loving mind.”
    “Yep. I know.” I started to say, “Marry him,” but thought that might stir up trouble. Instead, I whispered, “You know, I think he’s a little jealous.”
    “Jealous?”
    “Yes.” I leaned in close, hoping Laz was out of earshot.
    “He makes a pretty mean pizza. Think about it. He owns his own restaurant. But no one much talks about his cooking skills. I think this whole Food Network thing has him a little, well, envious of you.”
    “Oh.” She paused from her labors and shook her head. “I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me, but I’m sure you’re right. Maybe I need to ask him to cook a couple of nights this week. Might give me a chance to rest, anyway. I’m pretty worn out. Been on my feet for, well, sixty-five years.” She winked and I laughed. Truly, she had worked in a kitchen most of her life. All the more reason she deserved a spot on national television.
    As I left the kitchen, I passed Laz in the hallway with Guido on his shoulder. The bird was quoting John 3:16. Not bad, I had to admit. My uncle had been working on the parrot for several months, and all with only one thought in mind— sending him back to his original owner with the salvation message in his beak.
    “How do you think Sal will feel when he finds out his bird has come to know the Lord during his stay in Texas?” I asked with a grin.
    “Don’t know. But I have to reach Sal with the gospel somehow. After all of those years he spent in the mob . . .” Laz dove into a story about the old days, but my cell phone rang, interrupting him. I smiled when I saw D.J.’s number.
    “Hey, you.”
    “Hey, yourself,” he said. “Did you find Twila’s keys? Are we moving her car to my place?”
    “It’s the strangest thing. I can’t find her keys anywhere.”
    “No problem,” he said, putting my mind at ease. “Bubba’s got the wrecker parked at my condo. He can come over to your house with me after his matinee, and we’ll load up the car and take it to my place.”
    “It won’t damage the car?” I asked, trying to envision the look on Twila’s face if we dented her little baby.
    D.J. laughed. “Not at all, Bella. Don’t worry. We’ve got this under control.”
    “Of course you do.” He always had everything under control. Why did I doubt him?
    Awhile later, the guys pulled the family wrecker into the drive at the wedding facility.
    “I’ve seen this car in the parking lot at church every Sunday up Splendora-way,” Bubba said, “but I’ve never had the courage to ask Sister Twila why she chose the color pink.”
    I pointed to the faded Mary Kay sticker on the back. “I have a feeling she won this car in the ’80s for selling makeup.”
    “No joke?” He pulled off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “I’m surprised it’s still running.”
    “And her makeup is still going strong too.” D.J. winked and we all laughed. He turned to face the car, suddenly all business. “Let’s get this show on the