The Knotty Bride by Julie Sarff Read Free Book Online

want to marry Antonella Travelli, who lives in the apartment downstairs. But she wants to own a horse ranch and I want to live on a submarine.”
    I know, I know, I want to tell him, love is so complicated!
    Matteo stops attacking his brother’s playing piece long enough to add, “You could build a horse arena onto your submarine. That way she could come visit you.”
    Content to have found a solution to his marriage problem, Luca decides he wants a celebratory cup of hot chocolate. I climb to my feet and head off to make some in my Playskool-sized kitchen. Luca’s right; it does seem like the perfect afternoon for hot chocolate. Outside the rain falls in thick dark sheets, accompanied by an ever-growing fog.
    “The mist is so mysterious,” I mumble profoundly, picking up the kettle and filling it with water. Suddenly, I feel lost in the sea of Buschi mysteries. I feel overwhelmed. Who will help me? I cannot find the Buschi heir. I have no idea who’s in Buschi’s tomb. And what was up with Beatta Cavale? She seems like a very honest, forthright person; a very honest forthright person who was forced to tell a lie, or a half-truth or something. Why else did she look so discomfited at all our questions?
    “Bring, bring, bring,” goes my cell phone. I plop the kettle down on the stove and head off to search for it.
    “Bring, bring, bring,” continues the phone as I dig through my handbag, feeling a twinge of reluctance. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, nothing good ever comes from answering my phone. Reluctantly, I pull it out by its pink plastic Hello Kitty cover and scan the incoming number. Today it’s not Matt the movie star. It’s Enrico. It’s my recalcitrant ex-husband from whom I have not heard in months— except, of course, at the divorce hearing where he swept in, signed the papers and swept out. With a great ‘harrumph’ of a noise, I push the blinking answer button, anxious to give him a piece of my mind.
    “It’s about time you called, Enrico. There are a million things we need to discuss regarding the children,” I say, simultaneously tsk-tsking at Luca and Matteo who are fighting in the living room.
    “Lily!” Enrico thunders into his end of the phone. “Grab the boys and hurry down to City Hall. I’m getting married in thirty minutes.”
    My mouth becomes a tight line. What?
    “Hurry, Lily, she wants to get the wedding over with. We’re waiting on the judge right now,” he roars before the line goes dead.
    I stand stock-still. A scream, as if a mouse has just scurried across my feet, escapes me. Immediately Luca stops trying to force-feed Matteo the Candy Land playing cards.
    “Cosa c’e?” he asks, thoroughly spooked. I don’t answer. I cannot believe how inconsiderate my ex-husband is. He gives me thirty minutes notice, and I am magically supposed to round up his children so that they can make it to the ceremony on time?
    In two angry steps, I stalk across my miniscule kitchen. I fling open the window and scream again, even louder this time, as if a horde of mice are scurrying across my feet. People on the street peek out from underneath their umbrellas and stare up at me with alarm. I don’t care. I continue.
    “Per favore, mama, cosa c’e?” Please, mama, what is it? The boys ask over and over.
    What choice do I have but to spring into action? I grab my cell and dial Uncle Tommaso. There’s no answer. Where is he? Does he know about this wedding? His cell phone emits a long beep, and I leave a message punctuated with screams. Poor Uncle Tommaso, he won’t be able to understand a word. Finished, I click off my cell phone, grab my bag, my keys and everyone’s coats. Then I scream all the way down the steps to my ugly second-hand Punto, yelling at the frightened little boys who trail behind me.
    “Hurry up or we’re going to be late!”
    I am just buckling them into their seats when I abruptly stop. I will not do this. I will not drag the boys to