BADDA BING BADDA BOOM!

“Justice of the Peace? You wanna elope, Gina? Our parents haven’t even met to discuss the wedding!”  

“Exactly, Taylor, and it’s gonna stay that way!” said Gina Mezzacappa in her irresistible Marisa Tomei voice. “You know why that is, Taylor? Because my parents have had my wedding all figured out since I was a baby. You saw the Godfather so you know that I know what I’m talking about! There are two things you gotta face right off the bat: number one, our parents are about as different as you can get and number two, left in my family’s hands, our wedding will rival a motion picture extravaganza under the direction of Francis Ford Coppola. Let me ask you a question, Taylor. Have you ever been to an Italian wedding? No? That’s what I thought. Remember my cousin Rosellla’s engagement party? Well, picture that only ten times worse. There will be no elegant ceremony in your parent’s country club like your sister had, with one maid of honor, one best man and a string quartet. There will be no dainty hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne served by an attentive, white-gloved waitstaff followed by dinner of Beef Wellington, fingerling potatoes and haricots verts. The delicate wedding cake with gold leaf flowers? Ain’t gonna happen. Our romantic wedding night in the country club honeymoon suite overlooking the lake? Fugetaboutit! My parents are old school, Taylor, and only want a real Italian wedding. My father would rather swim through the shark-infested Straits of Messina than go against tradition. Now picture this: the ceremony will be held at Our Lady of Perpetual Hope Church with my mother’s cousin, Monsignor DelFino, officiating. There will be at least ten bridesmaids and groomsmen, four junior bridesmaids, a couple of flower girls and a ring bearer in addition to the maid of honor and best man. The reception will be held at The Villa Barone catering hall where my brother-in-law Carlo, the newly-elected fire chief, had a sweet sixteen birthday party for his daughter, my niece Anna Marie. The cocktail hour will consist of a cash bar and a buffet of hot and cold antipasti, sausage and peppers, potato croquettes, stuffed artichokes, prosciutto with melon and garlic knots. The reception dinner will be Italian wedding soup, manicotti, salad, lemon intermezzo followed by a choice of chicken marsala with penne, prime rib or filet of sole with string beans almondine and mashed potatoes. There will be fennel, mixed nuts and assorted fruit on each table along with bottles of wine. The cake will be five, maybe six tiers and for the kids a chocolate fondu fountain with Twinkies, brownie bites, cheesecake cubes and marshmallows. There will be a live band with traditional Sicilian folk dancers and my cousin Vinny will play the tarantella on his accordion. Finally, the pièce de résistance – the floating Viennese Dessert Hour and flaming cherries jubilee served with spumoni, gelato, espresso and anisette. Our wedding night will be spent sitting around my parent’s kitchen table with you, me and my mother counting the money we got as wedding gifts while my father records everything in an accounting ledger like Matthew the Tax Collector. OR ….. we go to City Hall, just you and me, get hitched and spend two glorious weeks alone in sunny Aruba. Your call.” 

“You’re kidding me, right, Gina?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

 “Say no more. City Hall, here we come!”

NAR © 2023

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