Free The Queen of Minor Disasters by Antonietta Mariottini Page B

them
depends on the restaurant like I do, but there’s no need to panic. I mean, if
my brothers can get decent jobs so can I.
    Maybe I can get a job at
Pietro’s law firm. I know I’m not exactly a
lawyer, but I’m sure I can do something in the office. Like file. And type
things.
    I’d probably be very good at
that. And I’d get to wear classy suits and kitten heels.
    Not that I really like suits
or kitten heels (they make my legs look really short).
    And I’ve never actually worked
in an office. Or filed anything.
    Hum.
    Maybe I can be a teacher like
Dante. That way I’ll have summers off to come back to work at Lorenzo’s.
    If Lucy can do it, I certainly
can. And who cares that St. Iggy’s is all boys. I’m used to that. I have four
brothers.
    Yes, perfect. I’ll become a
teacher.
    I can even ask Luce what to
write on my résumé. I’m sure she’ll find some way to finagle it.
    It’ll be great. Luce and I can
have lunch together in the teacher’s lounge every day! And I can get a cute
pair of glasses (not the matronly librarian kind). Of course, I’ll have to
practice my handwriting on a chalk board, but there’s plenty of time to do
that.
    My brothers were right. This
is a good thing. An opportunity .
    I just wish Mario would see it
the same way.
    He hasn’t said a word to Dad
since Father’s Day, and I worry that their relationship is permanently damaged.
Lorenzo and I talk about them a lot, and even though he’s upset as well, he
respects my parents’ wishes.
    “It’s their place,” he says,
and I agree.
    Lorenzo is surprisingly not
that worried. He actually seems happy about La Cucina closing. He’s been
wanting to open a small restaurant in Philadelphia, but hasn’t been able to
leave La Cucina. He’s thinking that this is his big opportunity. He even drove
back to Philly to start talking with real estate agents.
    Again, my twin is showing me
up. But that doesn’t matter. I’m going to be a teacher or something.
     
    About a week after Father’s
Day, my mother calls to tell me the exact date of the closing. La Cucina will
officially close on September 30, exactly three months from tomorrow. It’s
impossible for me to think that we won’t have another Christmas there, or that
I won’t be working on New Year’s Eve.
    Lucy tried to be optimistic
about it and even suggested we go up to New York City for New Year’s this year.
But as much as I complained about working all those years, I love ringing in
the New Year with a restaurant full of regulars wearing cardboard party hats and
throwing paper streamers in the air. They were like an extension of the family,
and partying at some lame bar in New York just doesn’t feel right.
    To avoid thinking about La
Cucina and Drew, I throw myself into work and with the Fourth of July right
around the corner, that’s pretty easy to do. This year, the holiday falls on a
Wednesday, which we thought would be bad for business, but as it turns out,
it’s ideal. Both this weekend and next are jam-packed. It’s nice to know that
we’re in high demand, but I do wish we had some slots open, since I’m the one
who has to deal with the phone calls.
     Since today is Friday and the
kick off to a busy weekend, I’m here earlier than normal. I don’t mind it
though; there’s something peaceful about an empty restaurant. And I get full
range of the kitchen, even though I almost always make a salad. Did you really
think I eat restaurant food every day? I’d be 800 pounds by Labor Day.
     In the kitchen, I’m in a
zone, dicing roasted red peppers and tomatoes to add to my salad bowl. I’ve
been dreaming of an arugula salad with jumbo lump crabmeat all morning. Just as
I walk towards the fridge to get the crabmeat, I hear a knock on the back door.
    “Come in,” I yell stooped over
by the fridge. Usually we don’t get deliveries until a little later, but I can
check the order and sign for it, no problem.
    “Hey Stella.”
    I turn towards the door