Pining For You: Jasper Falls Page 3

  “I’ll just have to feel Mom and Dad out,” she confided in James. “I’ll tell them my news and see how they take it.” The trick was getting them alone in the same room for a few minutes without any chance of disruptions or distractions. “Sound good?”

  “Simba.” James lifted his stuffed lion and roared.

  Her return smile was bitter sweet. Not only would she miss her cousins if she accepted the offer to transfer to Shippensburg University—a real college with a football team, branded sweatshirts, and the whole shebang—she’d miss watching James grow.

  She grazed her fingers over the letter in her back pocket. She’d been carrying it around for a week, looking for the right opportunity to share her news. Maybe she should just tell them at dinner. She could tell the whole family. Perhaps that would be better—even more exciting.

  “Let’s go find Mommy.”

  Forgetting his stuffed lion and truck, he ran off to find their mom. Fearless and undaunted by any future challenges that might crop up in his way. She needed to be more like her brothers, both big and small.

  She made up her mind. As soon as everyone was seated and settled for supper, she’d announce her good news. And it was good news.

  So why did she feel like she would somehow be letting everyone down?

  The kitchen smelled amazing when Skylar returned downstairs. The deep fryer drama on the porch seemed to conclude, and now the men loitered around their wives like hungry hounds begging for scraps. The women chased them off with instructions to set the table as they transferred steaming side dishes from metal pots to serving bowls while the kids once again washed-up at the sink.

  “We have no dessert now, thanks to all of you,” Aunt Sheilagh griped at her brothers.

  Uncle Luke threw a dishtowel at her face. “Like Mum ever has just one pie.”

  He was right. Gran always kept an arsenal of desserts hidden away for emergencies.

  Skylar was so anxious to share her big news, the words wanted to burst out of her. She waited for the perfect opportunity, a moment—just a split second really—when everyone shut up so she could steal the spotlight. It didn’t come.

  Halfway through the meal—no hint of the usual chaos quieting—an argument started over who would win the games next Thursday and who was ahead in the fantasy football pools.

  “I got five to seven odds on the spread next week,” Uncle Kelly announced.

  Uncle Luke perked up. “What’s Vincenzo paying?”

  “He said it was up to five hundred when I talked to him on Friday.”

  “Five hundred dollars?” Gran’s brows lifted. “That’s an awful lot of money to bet on one game.”

  Vincenzo, Skylar’s Italian grandfather on the Marcelli side, grew up in Philadelphia and liked to pretend he had mafia connections, which he did not. But he wore the gaudy gold jewelry and the mob style tracksuits as if he were a method actor preparing for the role of a lifetime.

  Deeply committed to his self-fabricated delusions of power, he even tried to run for mayor once. But he didn’t quite have the pull of Hoffa and he lost by a pretty extreme landslide. Suffice it to say, no one was allowed to speak the current mayor’s name in her grandfather’s presence if they wanted to eat at his restaurant. And no one in Jasper Falls cooked like her grandfather—including Gran—so everyone wanted a seat at his table.

  If Skylar ever broke the news about Shippensburg to her McCullough relatives, she had to do it all over again on the Marcelli side. She dreaded breaking the news to her grandpa Marcelli, as he had a few misogynistic tendencies in regard to the females of their family. All three of her dad’s sisters still worked and lived at home and he always told Skylar she had her priorities right whenever she showed up for a shift at the restaurant.

  Skylar liked working there, but it wasn’t what she wanted for a career. And her decision to stay in Jasper Falls had more to do with finance than any sort of loyalty to her family’s business.

  Once, her mom told her how desperately she’d wanted to leave town after high school. That hadn’t worked out for her, and she claimed she had no regrets, but deep down Skylar thought she might harbor a few.

  Skylar loved her town and was in no rush to leave, but some part of her believed she needed distance from her family in order to find her independence. She just hoped they would understand.

  “Bray, how come you’re not in the football pool?” Luke asked, glancing over the spread that passed around the table.

  Skylar’s dad chuckled. “He owes my dad from the last game.”

  Gran gasped. “Is that true, Braydon? Are you in the hole with Vincenzo like some degenerate?”

  “Shut up, Ant.” Uncle Braydon shot her father a look. “No, Mum. I just haven’t had the chance to get it over to him.”

  Skylar wondered if other families openly discussed illegal gambling as if it were nothing to be ashamed of.

  Uncle Kelly chuckled. “You’re afraid of Vincenzo. Just admit it.”

  “No,” Braydon argued, only there was a slight tremble to his tone. “What’s he going to do, ban me from the restaurant?”

  “Careful, Uncle Bray,” Skylar teased. “My grandpa thinks he has a special connection to The Man Upstairs. He might put the maloik on you.”

  Her uncle shot her a scowl. “Kate, control your smartass daughter.”

  Her mother shrugged. “She’s right. Hope he doesn’t put the evil eye on you.”

  “That’s enough of that talk, Katherine,” Gran said. “We’ve got enough problems. We don’t need to invite pagan superstitions into the mix. Besides, for a man so connected to God, I’ve never seen him step foot in church.”

  Skylar’s dad laughed. “Vincenzo worships The Big Guy in his own way when he washes his car on Sunday.”

  No further explanation was needed, as everyone who knew her grandfather, knew that the ritual of the Sunday car wash might as well be a religious compulsion. And because Grandpa Marcelli often claimed cleanliness was next to godliness, he said it excused him from mass.

  That was just the tip of the iceberg in terms of her grandpa Marcelli’s backwards thinking. The man was a lovable menace who believed respect was deeply rooted in fear.

  He yelled at and threatened anyone who set foot on his pristine front lawn, which was one of his most prized possessions after growing up in the city. He deeply believed a man could never eat enough processed meat, struggled to understand why any woman would want to work outside of the home or family business, and only prayed for three things—health, winning lotto tickets, and that the Philadelphia Eagles made it to the Superbowl.

  “Well,” Gran continued, “I think it’s inappropriate to bet on Thanksgiving. It’s a holiday. Holidays are meant for family and church.”

  Braydon cocked his head, his brow furrowing in confusion under his golden curls. “Ah, yes, Thanksgiving, the holiest day of all the holidays mentioned in the bible.”

  Aunt Sheilagh snorted. “I believe it’s also the birth of Jesus’s turkey.”

  “Jesus had a turkey?” Gianna asked from the kiddie table.

  Maeve’s eyes widened in awe. “Like Augustus?”

  “Great,” Uncle Finn grumbled. “Now, look what you started.”

  Aunt Sheilagh shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to slaughter a holy bird on Jesus’s turkey’s birthday.”

  Gran scowled. “Don’t joke about Jesus. It’s Sunday.”

  “Yeah,” Uncle Kelly laughed. “Jesus jokes are specifically limited to Mondays.”

  Before he could get the full sentence out, Gran reached over and swatted him in the back of the head. “You, stuff it.” She pointed her fork at the rest of her kids. “And the rest of you, I want no more talk about gambling at the dinner table. There are young, impressionable children listening.”

  Kelly heaped more potatoes onto his plate. “It’s the second biggest game of the year, Mum. Everyone’s betting on it.”

  Gran buttered a roll and shrugged. “I like the parade.”

 
Luke chuckled. “You can bet on which float makes it to Macy’s first.”

  “Don’t be a smartass, Luke.” She bit into the dinner roll. “Maybe I’ll place my own bet with Vincenzo, then I’ll take all your money and go to Macy’s myself. We’ll see who’s smart then.”

  “You don’t even know who’s playin’, Mum.”

  She scoffed. “Like that matters. Vincenzo will tell me.”

  “God help us all if we add degenerate to her resume,” Skylar’s mom muttered. “Ant, tell your father not to accept any money from my mother.”

  “Katherine, I don’t need you micromanaging the way I spend my money,” Gran snapped.

  “Can I be excused?” several children fidgeted with boredom, and the aunts did a quick inspection of plates before letting them go play.

  “You’re not going to gamble with my father-in-law, Mum. If you lose, he’ll expect to get paid and you’ll make a thing out of it.”

  “She’s right Maureen,” Pop chimed in. “This isn’t like playing cards for quarters with your sisters.”

  “Oh, as if we still play for quarters, Frank. Where the hell do you think I got the money for that new riding mower you love.”

  Uncle Paulie and Uncle Liam both stilled and scowled at the great-aunts who appeared riveted on cutting their food.

  “What the hell’s she talkin’ about Colleen?” Uncle Paulie snapped. “How much money are you three bettin’ on cards?”

  Without flinching, Aunt Colleen angled her knife at Uncle Paulie and popped a Brussel sprout in her mouth. “I don’t know who you think you’re questioning in that tone. Don’t you go concerning yourself with our wagers. I don’t bother myself with the paycheck pools you hold every week at the lumberyard. Besides, it was Rosemarie that lost the week Maureen bought the mower.”

  Uncle Liam scowled at his wife. “You lost enough money to buy a riding mower, woman?”

  “Hush, Liam. Your supper’s getting cold.”

  Gran smirked. “I think I’ll swing by Vincenzo’s tomorrow when I’m in town.”

  Before anyone could object, one of the kids knocked over a full glass of milk and everyone scrambled to contain the mess. Two other cups tipped over in the clean-up process and several pieces of silverware dropped onto the floor.

  As dinner carried on, voices grew louder, and soon, everyone not shoving food into their mouths, was shouting. The hairsplitting decibel was typical, though no one was actually angry. That was just how they communicated. Her family could break the sound barrier at a family meal.

  She glanced at her sister, hoping to find an ally. Just a glimpse of eye contact was all she needed and she could mouth the word, I have big news…

  Hannah’s head angled toward her lap, her eyes focused on the phone in her hands. She’d passed the entire meal hardly touching her food, her fingers glued to the device as she rapidly texted someone.

  Skylar loved her family. She adored how obscenely obsessive they could be about each other. But sometimes she wished everything could freeze and she could dip her toe into the glow of the spotlight and steal everyone’s attention for a few seconds.

  A baby started to cry and her Aunt Mallory jumped to her feet, cursing that the squeals made her milk come in. The men used the distracting chaos to slip out of the dining room into the den only to be ordered back by their angry wives to clear the tables.

  The next thing Skylar knew, dinner was over and she missed her opportunity to make her announcement. The words, I got a grant, dissolved on her tongue, before ever finding a chance to escape.

  Her fingers once again traced over the folded envelope in her back pocket and she smiled. Regardless of others ignoring or acknowledging her success, the small grant was a big deal. Maybe that was all that mattered.

  She cleared her plate, rinsed a few dishes in the sink to do her part, and slipped outside. Remnants of apple pie dripped off the porch railing and Gran’s autumn wreath was scorched, the gold synthetic leaves melted and deformed. She moved downwind from the scent of melted plastic.

  Lowering to the porch steps, she removed the acceptance letter from her pocket, affectionately running her thumbs over the university’s return address.

  Two hours was a long drive from Jasper Falls. It was doable, but not very realistic if she also wanted to continue working at the pizzeria.

  Ultimately, she wanted to take more than one class, but the grant only covered one three credit course during the upcoming winter session. It didn’t cover meals or housing or any of the other expenses like books.

  Maybe she was making a bigger deal out of it than she should. A winter session was a far cry from a regular semester. She folded the envelope in half, wondering if this was just some recruitment scheme to get new students enrolled.

  “Hey.” Her gloomy expression split with a smile as Uncle Colin appeared, car keys in his hand as if he was hoping to sneak in unnoticed.

  “You missed dinner.”

  “I know.” He glanced over his shoulder to the house. With the windows open, all the brash voices carried in a familiar but not very tempting show of pandemonium. “Any fights break out?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing out of the norm.”

  He lowered to the step beside her. “What do you have there?”

  Of all her uncles, Colin was probably her favorite. He was the youth minister at their church and very active at the high school. He’d helped her make the decision about going into early childhood education.

  She closed her hand around the envelope, covering the university branding. “It’s nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

  She fumbled with the letter, unfolding the envelope, and exposing the return address for him to read.

  “Shippensburg?”

  “Yeah. They offered me a grant to take a class during their winter session.” Pride rippled deep inside of her as she said the words out loud.

  “That’s great, Skylar. Are you gonna accept it?”

  She shrugged. Everyone had been so busy lately, she doubted half of them realized she was finishing her associate’s from the community college in less than ten days. Typically, students graduated the program in the spring, but she needed an extra semester to make up for the time she lost working at the family restaurant. She didn’t want to make a fuss.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if she were getting her bachelor’s. She could hold off on all the pomp and circumstance until she finished her full degree. Hopefully, things would be a little less chaotic at home by then. If not, she might have to wait until she earned her master’s to squeeze her way into the spotlight. But that’s how it was with big families.

  “I want to, but I don’t know if I can afford it. Shippensburg’s a hike—too far to commute and I don’t have housing.” The more she thought over the barebones offer the more she accepted it was likely a recruitment gimmick.

  “Did they say you have to attend in person? I know a lot of students who attend college virtually.”

  She shrugged again. Virtual wasn’t necessarily the college experience she was hoping for. “I guess that’s an option. It’s only one class. Anything more, and I’d have to pay out of pocket and get student loans, so I’d have to keep working.”

  It wasn’t like she was making a killing delivering pizzas and waiting tables at Vincenzo’s, but it helped. And being that the restaurant was family owned, she had flexible hours and plenty of time to study in the back when things got slow.

  “Have you asked your parents for help?”

  She shot him a doubtful glance. “Dad’s been so stressed out with his research. Mom keeps saying he’ll make the deadline, but I don’t know. If he doesn’t get this grant, another epidemiologist will, and he’ll be out all the time and money he’s spent. Plus, they’re already paying for Frankie’s school and Hannah wants to go out of state.”

  Colin frowned. “Not a single part of that answer had to do with my question, Sky.”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to be a burden.”


  He bumped her shoulder with his. “Hey, you’re their daughter—not a burden. You should tell them. Families are great at coming up with solutions when they put their heads together.”

  “Yeah, when they’re together. Everyone has so much going on lately. I don’t want to add more stress to their plate.”

  She didn’t know what her parents had in terms of savings, but she sensed it was running low. Voices traveled in a house with a family the size of theirs and only four bedrooms.

  “What about financial aid?” he asked, seeming to follow her thoughts.

  “That would be a must, whether they help me or not. I can’t expect them to support me.” She was twenty-one and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. College debt was normal.

  “How much time do you have to decide?”

  She needed to give them an answer by the end of the week. “Classes start in December.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you should do it. Keep going after that dream and eventually you’ll get there.”

  Her dream was to one day own and operate her own preschool, since Jasper Falls didn’t have one. Technically, once she earned her associate’s, she’d have the necessary credentials, but she wanted a more comprehensive background in education—she wanted the state recognized certification and bachelor’s degree.

  “It’s just one class,” she reminded him.

  “Credits don’t expire. It all adds up. And eventually, you’ll run out of excuses, Skylar. Don’t take too long to make up your mind, or you might also run out of time.” He stood and placed an affectionate hand on her shoulder. “This is a step in the correct direction.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know why I play things down like this. It’s like I’m afraid to do something if it’s just for me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with doing something solely for yourself.”

  He had a point. She knew it was a good point. But that didn’t relieve the guilt she felt, as if taking her focus off everyone else long enough to focus a little on herself might somehow disrupt the balance of the entire family.

  But, God, she wanted to do this for herself. She wanted to feel the selfish indulgence of going after exactly what she wanted with no consideration for how her choice might affect others. Just once.