“‘No,’ Adele said. ‘I don’t want to hear another word.’
‘But Mama–‘ Nikki said.
‘No! I have four daughters and one rule. No funny business with the food business. Your sister Lorraine met Joey’s father when they worked on the food truck together. She got pregnant; he got lost. Penny worked the counter at Reno Pizza. Mickey was the delivery boy. She found out he was delivering more than pizzas all over town. Mary Kate was the hostess at Kaiping Buffet and got tangled up with that dishwasher whose name we don’t say in this house. My daughters, men, and food don’t mix. I will not give my blessing for another case of heartburn to one of my girls.’
‘Mama, I don’t work at his restaurant. I just take care of his website.’
‘Well, I take care of my daughters. And I say no.’
Nikki twisted her mouth as she thought. Mama hadn’t snapped her fingers yet, so she could still get in one more sentence before the subject was really closed.
‘What if,’ she began slowly, ‘the food we met over had nothing to do with his business? What if I invited him to dinner at your table? What if he was getting to meet your lasagne while you were getting to meet him?’
Adele unconsciously twisted her mouth the same way Nikki had. Finally she said, ‘That could be possible. But no dates until I meet him!’
‘Do I get a say?’ Nikki’s father asked from behind his newspaper.
Both women turned toward him with a resounding, ‘No!'”
I take photos. I write. My volunteer job is taking photos of rescued dogs and cats transported by the rescue group whose records I manage. Since working and volunteering don’t leave me a lot of time to write, I’m spending 2017 borrowing from what these dogs and cats are writing. They said it’s okay.