Easter Sunday. All together now.
Who: Lovi, Marcello, Nico, Toni
Where: The Vargas Mansion
When: backdated to Easter Sunday, about 6pm
What: After attending church the relatives decide to invite themselves over for dinner, Romano doesn't get much of a say.
He couldn't remember if it were Marcello or Nico who came up with the idea of dinner first, but by the end of Mass Romano Vargas knew one thing; he hated them both dearly. And he hated Antonio for agreeing to it.
Somehow he had been conned into contacting one of the family's more loyal (ex-) kitchenhands, and by the time the four of them arrived home at about 6, there was already a delicious world of flavors wafting in from the kitchen.
Romano dropped his shoulder bag by the door and made a bee-line for the kitchen, calling out to those inside and waving off his family to sit down and 'make themselves comfortable.'
They could honestly wait in the garage for all he cared. Or outside. He didn't trust Marcello with the Ferrari.
Romano shut the kitchen door behind him and rested against it, relishing in the (delicious) peace and quiet, if only for a moment.
The church service had been endurable, and that was putting it nicely. Marcello and Antonio got along, most of the time at Romano's expense, and Nico found ways to amuse herself, always at Romano's expense.
But he had to admit he did need to get out of the house. If only spending time with relatives didn't remind him of the one he was missing.
Sighing, Romano was becoming increasingly aware of the eyes locked on him from across the room. He met the other's gaze and scowled, turning on his shoulder and slipping back outside.
God damn chef needed to mind his god damn own business.
Well, time to be social.
Where: The Vargas Mansion
When: backdated to Easter Sunday, about 6pm
What: After attending church the relatives decide to invite themselves over for dinner, Romano doesn't get much of a say.
He couldn't remember if it were Marcello or Nico who came up with the idea of dinner first, but by the end of Mass Romano Vargas knew one thing; he hated them both dearly. And he hated Antonio for agreeing to it.
Somehow he had been conned into contacting one of the family's more loyal (ex-) kitchenhands, and by the time the four of them arrived home at about 6, there was already a delicious world of flavors wafting in from the kitchen.
Romano dropped his shoulder bag by the door and made a bee-line for the kitchen, calling out to those inside and waving off his family to sit down and 'make themselves comfortable.'
They could honestly wait in the garage for all he cared. Or outside. He didn't trust Marcello with the Ferrari.
Romano shut the kitchen door behind him and rested against it, relishing in the (delicious) peace and quiet, if only for a moment.
The church service had been endurable, and that was putting it nicely. Marcello and Antonio got along, most of the time at Romano's expense, and Nico found ways to amuse herself, always at Romano's expense.
But he had to admit he did need to get out of the house. If only spending time with relatives didn't remind him of the one he was missing.
Sighing, Romano was becoming increasingly aware of the eyes locked on him from across the room. He met the other's gaze and scowled, turning on his shoulder and slipping back outside.
God damn chef needed to mind his god damn own business.
Well, time to be social.