That's Amore! - Janelle Denison [76]
"For cripe's sake, Gloria, you sound like you're doing a porn movie."
Surprised into a laugh by the caustic tone of Luke's sister, Lottie, Rachel looked around the fitting room of the shop to see everyone else laughing as well. Even red-faced Gloria—who'd been trying desperately to fit into her bridesmaid gown—chuckled. Then she shot her sister-in-law a glare. "Oh, look what you did. Now I have to suck it in all over again."
So far, the entire afternoon had been like this—fun and raucous, silly and companionable. Like it always was when with the Santori clan, though, this time, only the women of the family were around. Rachel was enjoying herself tremendously just sitting back and watching the interactions of this close-knit group.
Closest to Gloria—who was already turning blue from lack of oxygen as she tried again to zip up the too-tight dress she refused to have let-out—sat Luke's mother. Mrs. Santori wore a brightly colored, flowered sundress that made her look much too young to be the mother of six adults. In the months since she'd met her, Rachel had never seen the Santori matriarch in anything but a dress. And, as usual, she wore a small pin with the colors of the Italian flag. The woman's jewelry always reflected her ethnicity. Sometimes it was something as simple as a pin made of dried pasta.
Luke's sister, Lottie, sat beside her mother. Slumped back in her chair in boredom, her long legs were sprawled out in front of her and crossed at the ankle. She'd inherited her family's dark hair and eyes, like her brothers, but thankfully not the masculine features that made her older siblings so striking. Instead, she had her mother's soft, round face, and wide smile—though her biting wit and scruffy clothes labeled her the tomboy Rachel suspected her to be.
Sitting on the other side of Gloria, with her swollen feet resting on another chair, sat Meg, Joe's wife. She watched the goings-on with a Madonna-like smile, absently rubbing her large stomach and asking the baby within to give her kidneys a break or to get his foot out of her rib cage.
Both of Luke's grandmothers, one of his aunts and two of his female cousins had come in earlier. Since they weren't part of the bridal party, however, they'd been much easier to deal with, and had already departed.
Rachel blessed the day the Santori women had decided to give all their wedding patronage to her fledgling shop. They'd put she and Ginny in the black within two months of their grand opening.
The only one absent from this family event was the bride. Who, to be honest, nobody seemed to be missing.
"Mary mother of God," Mrs. Santori said with a definite huff, "Gloria, you're going to pop the seams. Let Rachel do her job and give you an extra inch."
Four would be better. But Rachel kept her mouth shut.
"Yeah, the size tag will still say eight," Lottie said. "You said that was all you wanted, to fit into a size eight. You never said it couldn't be an altered size eight."
Gloria cast a hopeful glance toward Rachel, who hurried to agree. "Oh, absolutely. The size on the tag is the only one that matters." Then, not untruthfully, she added. "I work with these dresses all the time and they all run much smaller than standard sizes."
The oldest Santori daughter-in-law finally stopped trying to tug the zipper up her back, and lowered it instead. She immediately heaved a deep breath, her face returning to its normal color. "Oh, thank God. I was about ready to try water pills and laxatives."
Luke's mother made the sign of the cross. "And how would that have affected the baby?"
Gloria twirled around as Rachel went to work with the measuring tape and pins. "I stopped nursing last month." Giving Rachel a mischievous grin in the mirror, she added, "Baby Mikey is six months old now, and Tony isn't the most patient man in the world."
If Gloria had thought she'd shock her mother-in-law, she'd obviously guessed wrong. Mrs. Santori merely smirked. "So, I guess you