The Devil Served Desire (30 page)

It didn't matter if she was fat thin, green or purple. The Chubby Chums accepted her regardless.

Maria took her seat and realized she no longer envied Mary Louise. Why the hell had she been trying so hard to look like a woman she didn't even like, anyway?

She liked who she was. Maria Pagliano was a hell of a nice woman. And looking like her wasn't bad at all.

"So, everyone, what have you all learned since the last meeting?" Stephanie asked.

Audrey's hand shot up. "That I really hate tofu. It was a breakthrough for me."

"That's good, Audrey. Glad to hear it." Stephanie turned to the next person. "Bert?"

"That Miller Lite has less calories than regular Miller. That was my freakin' breakthrough." He sat back against his chair, legs spreading in the way only a man could take up room, and scratched at his chin.

"Uh, great I think. Maria?"

"That I don't have to diet."

The group gasped.

"You don't have to diet?"

"Well, I have to watch what I eat, but I don't have to starve myself. I can have my favorite foods, just not binge on them." She grabbed Arnold's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Arnold has been there for me during a really rough time. Together, we worked out an eating plan that works for me. And lets me keep my favorite foods."

"That's no way to lose weight," Bert said.

"I can't eat the whole box of Twinkies, Bert. Or five cups of fettuccini Alfredo. But I can have a little and eat healthier. If I'm careful, I still come out ahead."

Bert eyed her. "You ain't gonna look like no Cindy Crawford doing that."

"I don't want to be Cindy Crawford. Or Mary Louise Zipparetto. Or anyone else but me." She smiled and realized as the words came out that they were true. "Do you know what I realized when I stepped on my scale this morning?"

Audrey had her pencil at the ready, pad flipped to a clean sheet. "What?"

"That I like
me
. No matter what size I am. And if I never lose another pound, I'll still be happy."

"Oh, Maria," Arnold cried, "you're
my
teddy bear!" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Stephanie smiled. "That's the true definition of a Chubby Chum." She started to clap. "Bravo, Maria!"

One by one, the others joined in with Stephanie, applauding Maria in the lime-green room.

All but one.

Bert crossed his arms, hands cemented in the region of his armpits. "How the hell does that help the rest of us? What kind of support group is this, anyway?"

Stephanie pursed her lips. "Now, Bert, you know frowns are contagious."

"I got something contagious for you." He got to his feet. "I'm heading over to that Italian place across the street. They got the all-you-can-eat-pasta special running again tonight." He jerked his chin in Maria's direction. "That's my new diet. All you can eat until you puke." He pointed toward Audrey. "You might want to write that down."

"Uh ..." Her hand hovered over the pad.

"The food at Vita is delicious," Maria said. "But the all-you-can-eat pasta special probably isn't the best choice."

Bert gave her a nonplussed look. "You don't say?"

"We're trying to have a support group meeting here, Bert," Stephanie said. "You're not being very supportive."

He shrugged. "I'll support you if you decide to join me. Even hold the bowl while you dish up your spaghetti."

"Me?" Stephanie put a hand to her chest. "Oh, no. I can't go. One bite and... Well, I just couldn't."

"Me, too," Audrey said, shaking her head. "I have no self-control when it comes to starches."

"I know the chef over at Vita," Maria said. "He has a lot of great salads on the menu. And he said he'd be glad to accommodate your diets with a few lower-calorie choices." It was a bit of a lie, but she knew she had to show Dante there was a ready and willing customer base before he'd change the menu.

"He'd do that? For us?" Audrey asked.

"Well, yeah. It's good for business. And good for our waistlines."

"A good cook is not a friend for your looks," Stephanie pointed out.

"This cook is a friend, believe me."

"Oh, I don't know," Audrey said. She worried the end of her pencil between her teeth. "I never eat pasta anymore. And never, ever go into real restaurants. They tempt me like that snake with the apple."

"Maria wouldn't steer us wrong," Arnold said. "She's a Chubby Chum. And remember what we always say, Chubby Chums keep us from feeling glum!"

Stephanie got to her feet. "Well, group. We
are
a support group. I think we could handle a field trip, if we stick together. That way, if one of us strays too close to the four-cheese lasagna, we'll remember our Chubby Chum mantra."

"A friend, we reckon, won't let a Chum take seconds," the group repeated en masse.

They all got to their feet, charging out of the door and across the street with the frenzied zealousness of bargain-hunting brides at the annual Filene's Basement sale.

Happy-Ending-
F
or-All Chicken Florentine Lasagna

1-1/2 tablespoons butter or margarine

3 tablespoons flour

2 12-ounce cans evaporated skim milk

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

16 ounces nonfat cottage cheese

3/4 cup reduced fat shredded mozzarella cheese

Cooking spray

7 ounces whole wheat lasagna noodles, cooked and drained

1-1/2 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded

1 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry

Salt and pepper

2 tablespoons grated Parmigiano Reggiano (a little of the good stuff can go a long way)

2 tablespoons fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and get ready for a culinary masterpiece that's good for you—and good to eat. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter, then add the flour and cook thirty seconds. Gradually whisk in milk, salt and nutmeg. Cook until thickened, about three minutes. Voila! Low-calorie white sauce. Mix the cottage cheese and mozzarella in a separate bowl. Looking good already, isn't it? And best of all, it's only about ten grams of fat per serving.

Long as you're realistic about portion control, that is.

Spread 1/3 of the sauce over an 11 x 7-inch baking dish that has been coated with cooking spray to prevent a sticky mess. Arrange noodles across sauce, top with half the chicken and spinach, then sprinkle with salt and pepper. Protein, veggies, dairy—what more can you ask? Oh yes, a little fat. Just a little though—nothing too dangerous.

Top with half the cheese mixture, then a little more sauce. Add another layer of meat, veggies, pasta, sauces, same as before. End with noodles, then spread remaining sauce over top.

Cover with foil and bake for forty-five to fifty-five minutes. Long enough to write out a menu that involves plenty of Chum-friendly meals—and a new plan for your life that allows for a true "delicious life."

Remove foil, sprinkle with grated Parmigiano and bake another five minutes. Serve with parsley garnish and a smile because you know this combines the best of all your worlds.

A happy ending. Who knew you could find it on a plate?

When Maria walked in the door, trailed by a baker's dozen of the Chubby Chums, Franco took a step back, blinked, then blinked again. "Miss Maria! You bring friends! Lots of them."

"I did, Franco. And we'd like a table for"—she ran a quick head count—"fourteen."

"Right away!" He hurried into the dining room, grabbing the first busboy he saw and gesturing at him to get a table ready.

Within seconds, Franco was back and scooping menus into his arms. "Follow me, please."

The group filed behind him and took seats at the table. Maria at one end, Stephanie at the other. A moment later, Rochelle came up to their table. "I’ll take this one myself, Franco," she told him. "It's my last night waitressing and this table is special." She smiled at Maria, then turned to the group and introduced herself. "I can take your drink orders now and come back for the food orders."

"Actually, if you all don't mind, I'll order for us." Maria looked at everyone else, most of whom nodded agreement.

Bert snorted. "Just get me a Miller Lite and I'll be happy."

"Rochelle, we'd like six orders of the lasagna special and of the antipasto. And bring us a couple big bowls of the house salad. We're going to try a buffet of some of Dante's lighter fare."

"Lighter fare?" Rochelle's hand paused over the order pad. "Since when?"

"Did you lie to us?" Bert asked. "Probably trying to get us all fat so she looks thin."

"Bert,
shut up
." Audrey gave him a jab in the shoulder.

Bert blinked in surprise. And stopped talking.

"You go, Audrey!" Arnold beamed at her.

She flexed her little arm. "Thanks. I'm feeling assertive today."

"Is this the lasagna we had for lunch today?" Rochelle asked.

"Yep."

"Oh, that's amazing stuff. I've been telling Dante he should put it on the menu. Glad you convinced him." She wrote down what Maria had ordered, then took everyone's drink choices and headed into the kitchen.

Franco bustled in from the opposite direction, leading a group of four more to the table beside them. "Your guests have arrived, Miss Maria," he said.

"You made it!" Maria rose, crossing to hug and kiss Mamma, Papa, Nonna and Nonno.

"Of course," her grandfather said. "The Paglianos, we like to eat." He smiled and embraced her back. "And, we like to see you,
nipote
."

Rochelle had returned with a tray full of diet sodas and water glasses. She looked at Maria. "Let me guess. More lasagna specials?"

Maria glanced at her parents and grandparents. "Is that okay with you?"

Mamma nodded, exchanging a private look with her daughter. "We not so old we can't learn new things." She turned to Rochelle. "Four,
per favore
."

"You got it." Rochelle grinned, took their drink orders, then practically ran back into the kitchen. Before the door finished swinging shut behind her, Dante exited from the opposite side.

Maria's heart sang at the sight of him. Would it always be like this? Would she always feel this little skip of joy every time he came home?

Every time he came home?

That kind of thought implied permanence. Commitment.

Marriage.

Maria sat back in her chair and tasted the word in her mind. It didn't seem so scary anymore. The empty feeling in her stomach had disappeared.

Could she have been filling that feeling with food instead of...

Love?

That would make Mamma and the Chubby Chums and everyone else right.

Well, if that were so, Maria would never admit it. Not even if they tempted her with a heaping bowl of tortellini. With Twinkies on the side.

After pausing to greet her parents, Dante arrived at her seat. "You came back," he said, a smile on his lips.

"I keep my promises."

"Good." He looked at the crowd surrounding the pushed-together tables. "And who did you bring with you?"

"Your new demographic."

"My new ... what?"

"We're the Chubby Chums," Arnold said, spreading his arms to indicate the group. "And Maria said you've got some great healthy Italian food that can fit on our diets. Best of both worlds."

Dante paused, thinking. Maria tensed. If he didn't go along with this, then she'd read him completely wrong. A long second passed as he looked at her, then the others. Finally, a slow smile spread across his face.

He turned toward her, his dark brown eyes linking with hers, like a connection stretching for miles. Strong and deep, seeming unbreakable. She took in a breath, held it.

"Maria," he said, the word quiet and intimate, "I love you."

The Chubby Chums whooped. Mamma clapped.

"You-you—," she sputtered.

"He loves you, Maria," Arnold said. "Tell him you love him back."

"But-but..."

"Those who delay, lose their way." Arnold tugged her out of her chair. "And your way is right"—he gave her a little shove—"there."

She stumbled toward Dante. The room seemed to drop away, leaving only them. That dimple by his smile. Those eyes that saw further inside her than any eyes before. "All I expected to hear was thanks."

He grinned. "Didn't seem like enough. You saved my restaurant. And my heart."

"Your heart?"

"It was going down the garbage disposal fast until you came along."

She chuckled. "Gee, you're so romantic."

"I've got an audience." He came closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "When we're alone,
ma petite
, I'll show you romantic."

She smirked. "Nonna taught me some of her self-defense tricks, you know."

His brown eyes twinkled. "Now that could make things very interesting."

She took in a breath and held his gaze until the tease disappeared. "You... you really meant what you said?"

In an instant, he had both her hands in a firm, secure grip that seemed like it could hold her forever. "I love you, Maria Pagliano.
You
. Not what's on the outside. Just you."

"Kiss him!" Nonna shouted.

"Kiss him!" the Chubby Chums echoed.

"Kiss him before my damned beer gets warm," Bert muttered.

And so they obliged the crowd for a long, sweet second. Dante's lips on hers felt as perfect as cheese on penne, as delicious as meatballs with sauce. The chef and Venus—but with a much happier ending.

She drew back, pressing her cheek to his. "I love you, too," Maria whispered into Dante's ear. "But don't tell my mother."

He chuckled and motioned toward the Pagliano table. "I think she already knows."

Maria turned. Nonna and Mamma had taken out a piece of paper. Each had a pen in their hands, writing as fast as they could, the names pouring down either side of the paper.

"Is that what I think it is?" Maria asked. "If we don't get out of here soon, they'll be planning our baby shower next."

He grinned. "That's not a bad idea," Dante whispered in her ear.