“Well, shall we eat?”

The Christmas color scheme was unintentional, but as everyone looked at the dinner table, it was impossible to miss. They started with a green spinach soup, with sour cream and boiled eggs. Maria tasted the soup, and then just stirred it around with her spoon until everyone else finished. The Jell-O with fruit was as green as the Wooster golf course in June, and chock-full of grapes, canned pineapple, and maraschino cherries. The Jell-O was Vivian’s old reliable standard and she always brought it to events when asked to bring a salad. The beef Stroganoff had the slightest hint of red, as Vivian liked to add ketchup to things that didn’t really need ketchup. She didn’t find cooking quite as soothing as baking, and maybe put a little less effort into it. She gave herself a lot of credit for this evening’s dinner, though, because she’d made it all from scratch. The green and red feast was capped off by the powdered-sugar-covered pandoro that Maria had brought in the small white box, and even though it sounded foreign, Vivian had to admit it was pretty good.

After dinner Vivian monopolized Maria’s attention, praising her for her spaghetti sauce recipe and asking for cooking tips and the like. That was something to talk about. Food. Charlotte had excused herself to go upstairs to her room, which left Edward and Dominic sitting opposite each other in the wing chairs. Vivian ignored them, focusing all her attention on Maria. She had intended the evening to be tense and unpleasant, but Vivian found herself enjoying Maria’s company. She’d been off the day Pearl Fry had sneezed into her mouthpiece while eavesdropping on Jean Cahill speaking to her mother long-distance, causing Jean’s mother to exclaim, “Now, Jeannie, what did I tell you about catching your death, wearing those dresses cut so low in the front! What did I tell you!” The way Maria told the story, she just had all the mannerisms down pat. Vivian couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed at all.

Vivian was confident Edward was not having as good a time entertaining Dominic Tomasetti. She’d been practically giddy when Dominic introduced himself. His accent was thick, and his English much less understandable than Maria’s, and she knew Edward would be gritting his teeth throughout the evening about it. Maria had no accent, having come to the United States and learned English at the age of four, but if you’d told Vivian that, she wouldn’t have believed you. The telephone company had a policy to only hire fluent English speakers, but Vivian still thought Maria had a pretty heavy Italian accent. Now that they’d spent a couple of hours talking, though, she hardly noticed it.

Maria told her how Dominic had come over to the United States just five years ago and worked at the Wooster Rubber Company, which had finally found its footing again after all the war rationing. His older brother Vincenzo (now Vincent) had settled in Wooster just before the stock market crash, and secured a job driving the delivery truck for City Dairy. Vincenzo Tomasetti had set his cap for Maria DiLucca, the prettiest, curviest girl on his milk route, and Maria admitted she’d gone on several dates with him.