AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The reporter is at DeLuca’s, standing out front. With Tris. I had no idea he was doing a live interview this morning. We haven’t seen each other all week, but we’ve talked every day. Last night, even, after closing.
He hadn’t said a word.
“Tell us what it means for you? For Deluca’s II?”
Dressed in a suit, Tris looks exceptionally sexy on television. Not all that surprising.
“It means a great deal,” he says. “As your viewers know, this is a family business. My siblings work alongside me, all of us learning from our parents.”
The reporter looks straight into the camera.
“Who hasn’t enjoyed a tray or two of pizza from DeLuca’s? Am I right?” He turns to Tris. “Tell our viewers who might be unfamiliar with this award what it’s all about.”
Tris looks into the camera now.
“They may have heard ofCucina Magazine, one of the premier food and wine guides, which I highly recommend if you’re into good recipes and discovering new restaurants to explore.”
He’s good.Cucinawill love that.
And maybe that’s the point of this interview?
“Each year their most prestigious award, Best Restaurant, is given to a select few establishments across the U.S. Every four years, like the Olympics, they turn to our neck of the woods, the Northeast region. So it’s an incredible honor to be officially nominated. An opportunity that won’t come around again for another four years as they rotate regions of the country to award.”
Why does it feel like he’s talking directly to me? Reminding me that it will be four years until another chance at a nomination comes up? And without it, less than zero chance of a Beard Award to follow?
Ridiculous, I know. But still my shoulders tense listening to him.
“Well, congratulations, Tristano, and good luck in the next round. I hearCucinawill send judges at any time?”
“Right.” He smiles. “We won’t know they’re here. But since our goal is to treat every customer like they’re family, DeLuca’s is ready for them.”
“I bet! Well, folks, if you haven’t gotten out here to Lake Shohola yet, I can tell you from experience the lasagna is unlike anywhere else you’ve eaten.”
We serve lasagna too. My mom’s, actually.
I think back to my teachers’ and my mentor’ praise. The skills I’d learned, combined with my mother’s recipes, was a sure marker of success. Or so I’d thought.
“If you can get a reservation after this, come see why DeLuca’s is an official Cucina-nominated restaurant for yourself.”
The screen breaks away, Tris’s interview over.
Sinking into the couch, I put my coffee on the end table and don’t move. Minutes later, I can hear my phone ringing.
Must be Tris.
He had to have known about the interview. Why didn’t he tell me? Maybe I could have been prepared for what felt like a slap in the face.
Congratulations, Evie. You are officially the worst girlfriend ever. Way to be happy for him. To be the gracious loser.
Loserbeing the key word here.
I ignore my phone as it begins to ring again. Today is Tris’s big party at the restaurant, which is just as well. I don’t feel like seeing him, or anyone, at the moment.
I’ll just wallow in self-pity here on the couch, thank you very much. Lisa and Zara’s pep talk, forgotten. This time, when the tears well in my eyes, I don’t stop them. I don’t chastise myself or do anything other than let them flow.
And flow they do.
34
