HOLY RAVIOLI EXCERPT

Excerpt - Holy Ravioli

"I have great news! The Pope is coming to the city and can bless your wedding." The door flung open and her Italian ma looked radiant with this public announcement.

Shira Pravoloni blinked at the threshold of the boardroom. Clearing her throat, she smiled at her sweet and often over attentive mother. “Ma, what a lovely surprise.” She pivoted in her chair and looked to the head of the table where her father Franco sat.

“Dad?”

“She went to mass this morning,” he informed her from the corner of his mouth as he waved to the intrusion.

Glancing to the executive members of the Pravoloni Ravioli Company, she was thankful that they were used to the antics of Mary Guinevere Pravoloni and all looked sympathetic. It was either that or they were biting back laughter. It was hard to say. Her brother Tony snickered. Sure he could. His back was to their mother, who had entered further into the meeting. “Run!” he mouthed.

She turned to her mother. “Ma, um, this is great but I’m not getting married. In fact, I’m not even dating.” She rose from her seat and smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Now that we have established that, what are you doing here?”

“What?” Her mother tossed one of her hands heavenward while the other clutched a brown bag. She walked further into the room. “I brought your father his lunch. It’s meatball Monday”

Of course it is.

“Now, because I love my baby girl…” Her mother set the brown bag in front of her dad and clapped her hands together. “I have the solution to our problem.”

“Uh… What problem?”

“The no wedding problem.”

“Oh dear!” Her father threw down his pen as her ma started to pace. She looked to her father. He shrugged.

Oh dear is right. “Ma, can we discuss this later, like after the board meeting?”

“No, we can discuss this now. It’s no secret Shira, that you are beautiful and have great birthing hips. Yet, despite the short skirts, you have no man.” She smiled and wagged a finger at her. “I found the solution and I have just the man.”

“Now would be a good time to take your brother’s advice,” her father

whispered. “Run.”

Fighting the whimper in her throat, she stepped away from the table. “You know Ma, this sounds divine.” Slowly, she sidestepped towards the door, showing no fear and not breaking eye contact with the marriage-crazed woman who had brought her into the world. “Let me just run—I mean go to the powder room and we will pick up this conversation the minute I get back.”

“Thank you. Finally you listen to my ideas.” She pushed her way to the table and pulled out one of the leather swivel chairs. “I will wait right here for you.”

“Right!” She smiled and reached for the door handle. With the determined joy on her Ma’s face, it would be best to keep running right out of the building and, if she could manage it, out of the city and maybe the state. “I’ll be right back.” The knob turned in Shira’s hand and she slipped through the door. She glanced around and realized her purse was in her office at the end of the hall. It had her car keys in it, but it was also at least a hundred yards away.

Shira quickly scuffed down the hall as fast as her Jimmy Choo shoes would carry her and into her office. She scanned the room. Where did she leave her purse?