AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He nods and mouths, “It’s true.”
“Now, this brings me to a special segment called: I Hate You, You Lucky Sons of Bitches!” The graphic appears and Ferris shouts, “To the people at the science place where Hudson Finch is going to be, I hate you, you lucky sons of bitches. You don’t deserve him. I don’t care how many PhD’s you’ve got floating around in that dreary building. Hudson is a god. He should be with the other gods back here in Hollywood. But since apparently he’s decided to grace you with his presence, you better treat him right. Or I’ll be coming up there. Which brings us to my new segment: Don’t Make Me Come Up There!”
Graphic swap and Ferris scowling. “Don’t make me come up there, science people. Do not. You don’t want me to come up there. And believe you me, I’m going to hear about it if there’s any ill treatment of my main man. If he gets even so much as a dirty look, I’m getting in my VW Bug and setting Google Maps straight for your office. I swear to all that is holy, you will pay if you mistreat him. I’ll see to it.
“But I digress, and there’s no time for digressing because EN is going to start in a few minutes and I need to change into something formal and find my eyelid tape. See ya later, bitches! Ferris out!”
8
Noisy Furniture, Homemade Hooch, and National Television Debuts…
Allie
“It’s starting!” Grandma yells, which causes a rush of people from the kitchen to the living room.
I somehow allowed myself to get roped into going to Nonno and Grandma’s house to watch tonight’s episode of Entertainment Nightly with my entire family. They’ve got the most seating space in their living room, so it made sense to come here. Zia Fernanda, who lives with them, is a celebrity gossip hound, so she’s over-the-top excited that her niece is on the show.
Zia turns up the volume and shushes everyone.
“Welcome to Entertainment Nightly. I’m your host, Rock Simons. Tonight, an exclusive on-site interview with Hudson Finch as he prepares himself for his next role. But first, let’s take a look at this week’s make-ups and break-ups…”
Zia mutes it and jumps up from her armchair. “Quick! Let’s go get the grappa!”
Oh God, not the grappa. It’s a digestivo—or after-dinner drink—that is supposed to aid digestion. All it does for me is up the temperature of my face by ten degrees and makes the world spin a little. It’s homemade, therefore the actual alcohol content is a complete unknown, but let’s just say it’s somewhere between forty percent and strong enough to burn a hole clean through your esophagus.
The plastic cover on the sofa squeaks as my relatives get up and race to the kitchen. I stay put on the floor, where I strategically planted myself when we arrived. I’m sitting here so it’ll be hard for my relatives to see my face while we’re watching the show, on account of being terrified of allowing any sort of expression that shows one of the following two emotions: a) hurt feelings, because I know they’re going to pick me apart, and b) attraction to Hudson, because if they sniff that out, it’ll be a whole thing I don’t want to deal with.
I look over at Nonno, who winks at me. “Are you excited, tesora?”
“Not really. To be honest, I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to work.”
He nods, then says, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” with a sigh. “You work hard, you make a lot of money, life is good when you’re old.”
Grandma, who is returning to the room with a tiny glass for her and Nonno, makes a pfft sound. “Money. She doesn’t need more money. She needs to find a nice man to settle down with.”
“She’s a modern woman,” he says, taking his drink from her. “She’s making her own way in the world.”
“Thank you, Nonno,” I say, sitting up a little straighter.
“We can give you money, tesora,” Grandma says. “It’s time you find a good man. Money won’t keep you warm when you’re old like us.”
On the screen, a commercial for Ozempic is playing, which will inevitably be followed by another Ozempic commercial. The rest of the relatives pile into the room, taking spots on the sofa and kitchen chairs that have been brought into the room. Lucia flops down onto the dusty rose carpet next to me. Vinnie and the kids aren’t here on account of soccer practice, so she’s all-in on the grappa. She takes a big sip. “So? Other than being a liar, what’s he like?”
“I don’t really know. I only spent a couple of minutes with him today,” I tell her.
She bumps her shoulder into mine. “Come on, what’s he like?”
“Well, we’ve established he’s a liar, so I’d say that’s all we need to know about him.”
Lucia shrugs. “A little white lie for the cameras. So what?”
The show starts up again and Zia jacks up the volume to ‘about to blow the speakers.’
Rock Simons grins into the camera. “And now for our EN exclusive with Josie Pedlar…”
The video starts and my heart pounds a little harder, seeing the front of the building I’m at every day. Hudson is standing, holding the box of pastries from the shop. “There’s our big box!” my father yells. The ladies in the room are all clearly more interested in Hudson. They collectively make a loud ‘oooo’ sound, which pretty much drowns out what that obnoxious Josie and Hudson are saying.
My dad shushes them. “Come on, we’re going to miss it if you don’t stop that.”
