Ray

Sealie Scott.

"Ray, Ray, Ray," Maria wrung her hands, "Frannie won't come out of the bathroom."

"Again?" Ray asked, exasperated. He set down the handful of cutlery, he'd been polishing, beside the growing buffet.

"No, Ray! This time it's serious - she said that she doesn't want to go through with it."

"Geez! Okay, okay. I'll go sort it out."

Maria blew out a sharp sigh, relieved, elsewhere one of her many children was yowling (although it did not sound serious).

"I've got to go handle that - sounds like Paulie is strangling Connie."

She was out the door in a trice.

"Where's Ma?" Ray called after her.

"Oh, Cousin Lirelle's souffl flopped; she's making a new batch." Then his sister was out of earshot and halfway up the stairs. Standing in the wooden hallway, Ray considered his options: he could either run away until he disappeared over the horizon or go up stairs and sort out the latest Vecchio drama. Avoiding a plastic doll on a stair and then a bundle of washing en route to the washing machine he started up the long staircase. Stepping over the baby-gate at the top, Ray made his way to the bathroom. The handle rattled under his hand but the door didn't open.

"Frannie?"

"Go away," came the muffled reply. Her voice sounded taut and tear ridden.

"Aw, Frannie, open the door."

"I told you to go away."

One of his many young cousins toddled past him. The young child, Ray didn't know it's name, sex or actual relationship, looked up at him and smiled toothily. Behind the door sobbing began, or more than likely started anew. Crouching, Ray brought himself down to the child's level.

"Why don't you go find your mama?"

"Mama's busy."

"Why don't you go help her."

Ray patted the child on its diaper covered bottom and ushered it in the direction of Frannie's boudoir and the chaos of preparations. He waited until the child was well away before returning to the door. Resting his palm against flaking paint, he considered his options.

"Frannie, if you don't open the door I'll kick it in. Don't think I won't, 'cos I will. It needs painting. I'll be sanding it down and repainting it next time I've got a day off, any rate."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You want to chance it?"

Pulling back his foot he stood poised, waiting, as he expected the door opened. He saw Frannie's tear streaked face before she buried her face into a towel. Smoothly, he slipped into the small bathroom and closed the door. He sat next to her on the edge of the bath and slipped an arm around her shoulders. She flinched but made no further effort to move away.

"Come on, Frannie, what's the matter?"

"I don' wanna go through with it - it's a mistake."

Ray sighed inwardly, what do I do now?, "Why is it a mistake?"

Frannie's body shuddered, she muttered something but it was muffled by the towel.

"What, Frannie?" he gave her a little shake.

"Nothing good happens," she sniffed loudly, "ever."

"Aw, Frannie." The shake turned into a hug.

"I thought Al was the best thing that had ever happened to me - look what happened."

I remember. I remember beating the Hell out of that abusive creep, once I admitted to myself what he was doing to you. After you screwed up the courage to tell us what he was.

"It's different this time, Frannie, you've known Richard since you were little. He's a nice guy and he's doted on you since you grew outta pigtails. Geez, I don't know why you didn't marry him when you were eighteen."

"You know fine well," she lifted her tear streaked face, "Pop didn't approve of a Protestant in the family."

Ray hung his head, he'd walked straight into that one, let his mouth run ahead without thinking.

"Yeah, well, he's not gonna ruin your happiness this time - is he?"

Frannie pushed away from his comforting touch and stood to stare blindly in the bathroom mirror. Ray joined her, looking over her shoulder into her eyes.

"Are you gonna let him ruin your life," Ray's eyes were infinitely compassionate, "forever?"

Frannie's bottom lip trembled but her chin was definite. Suddenly she turned and burrowed her face into Ray's chest. Her fresh tears seeped into his shirt. Ray enfolded her in his arms.

"What if it goes wrong?"

"After I beat him up, you come back here." Ray said simply.

"Creep." Frannie said affectionately, as her arms snaked around his waist.

"So are we all better now?"

There was no answer. Waiting patiently, Ray rested his chin on top of his sister's head. The reflection in the mirror taunted him for his manipulation and easy answers. Frannie hugged harder and then relaxed.

"Drama over." Abruptly she released her brother. She turned back to the mirror and grimaced at her face. "God, what an absolute fright."

"Yeah, what else is new?" he grinned and pushed her between her shoulder blades. "You better wash your face with cold water - it might get rid of those bags."

Before she could retaliate he was out the door and half way down the stairs. The swearing behind him was heart-warming.

He met his mother on the stairs.

"Maria told me that Frannie had locked herself in the bathroom?" The concern in her voice was evident.

"Oh, she couldn't decide which lipstick to wear," Ray said offhandedly, "I told her to go with the cherry red."

"Wedding nerves." Ma said sagely, wise to her childrens' ways.

"I guess." Ray said, as he shrugged.

Frannie came out of the bathroom her face red and freshly scrubbed. "Hi, Ma - I forgot my bubble bath - don't let anyone in there while I go get it." She smiled as she disappeared into her room.

"I think that the crisis is over." Ma said candidly.

Ray started back down the stairs he had an entire service of silverware to polish.

"Caro," his mother stopped him dead in his tracks, "I've decided that the weather is going to be fine; could you put the summer chairs out on the patio? Some of the guests might like to sit in the garden."

"Do you want me to put out the plastic table as well?"

"That's a good idea, caro."

Ray darted a glance out of the porch window as he bounced down the stairs and into the hall. The sky looked blue but the weather forecast had been for intermittent showers. Although he doubted the rain would dare defy his mother's predictions.

The kitchen was a hive of activity. The temperature was oppressive; both cookers were running and all the hobs had a pan with merrily bubbling aromatic contents. Three of his aged, widowed aunts had been conscripted along with possibly every other Vecchio within a three hundred mile radius. The polyglot of Italian and English and amazingly Spanish (mainly expletives) would have been disorientating to anyone else. Ray weaved through the chaos with practised ease - stopping as he passed the central heating controls.

I asked Tony to reprogram this so that there'd be hot water all day. The central heating manual was tucked behind the boiler, dog eared and torn. Ray plucked it free and flicked through the pages.

Shoulda known better than to ask Tony to figure this out. The manual was a tribute to the art of being incomprehensible. "Unc Ray?" a small hand tugged at his slacks. A face liberally covered in chocolate looked pleadingly up at him.

"Yes, cara?"

He smiled down at his favourite niece and was rewarded by her gap toothed smile.

"Will you play wif me? Nobody wants to play."

"Ah, Honey," he bent and dropped a light kiss on her dark curls. "I'm busy getting things ready for your Auntie Frannie's wedding. I'll play with you later."

"Promise?"

"Promise - Uncle Benny told me a new game called 'Sardines'."

"Okay."

Smiling, she crawled under the massive table which dominated the kitchen. Curious, Ray peered beneath the table. Daniello, his youngest nephew, was playing happily with a handful of grimy dough. A cousin, Kate (he thought), was performing major surgery on a Barbie. Toys had been scattered, or kicked, under the table and the youngest members of the Vecchio family were playing happily amidst the chaos overhead. Connie joined Gabriel and the De Milo twins in a tickling match which mainly seemed to revolve around giggling rather than actual tickling.

"Dani, will you give me that dough please." Ray stretched out his hand, the toddler immediately popped the dough into his mouth. Wise to any child's immediate response to such a question he deftly caught the toddler by a chubby arm and hauled him out from under the table. Before Dani could begin to cry or protest, Ray had retrieved the dough and hoisted the toddler high in his arms and blown a raspberry on his tummy. Delighted, Dani drummed his fists against his Uncle's shorn head. Grimacing, Ray shifted the toddler onto his slim hip and turned his attention back to the labyrinthine heating manual. Dani was happily occupied playing with his Uncle's buttons. Finally, Ray deciphered the instructions and flicked the one switch which kept the water heater on all day.

One chore sorted, four hundred and fifty six to go.

He carried Dani out onto the patio and sat him down next to the potted herbs. Keeping one eye on the child, Ray retrieved the garden chairs and the folding table. The accumulation of the winter's spider webs and fly carcasses clung to his clothes and hands. Ray gagged dramatically.

"Unc Gey!" Dani demanded, a fragment of coriander leaf disappeared into the toddler's mouth.

"Oh...dear." Ray said, constricted.

Dani smiled sunnily in response. The leaf was long gone.

Life would be easier if we could manacle them to their beds.

"Connie Honey, could you bring me out a wet cloth?"

He could hear one of his Aunts directing the child. A cupboard opened and then water splashed. Connie came out with a sodden cloth clutched in both hands.

"Thank you."

Moments after he had set up the patio furniture and dusted off the webs the door bell rang throughout the house.

"Raimondo, my hands are covered in flour, will you get the door?" Aunt Maria, for whom his sister Maria was named after, called out.

Swinging the toddler into his arms (who was making a foray towards the oregano), Ray re-entered the Dante's Inferno of a kitchen. Connie skipped along at his heels. He recognised the figure through the pebbled glass in the front door - even without his Stetson.

"Hi, Benny."

His best friend stood politely on the second step, holding a bag almost protectively before him. There was a vague feeling of terror emanating from the mountie.

"Good morning, Ray. I hope I'm not intruding. I thought that I might be able to help with the preparations?" he finished off nervously.

"Unc Geng!" Dani said and held out both arms to the mountie demanding to be plucked from his Uncle's grasp.

Ray swapped the child for the mountie's bag.

"What's in here?" he gave the bag a rattle but it didn't make any noise.

Hands full of squirming one year old, Fraser waited a moment before answering. "My suit and something for Francesca and Richard." He glanced down at his familiar blue shirt and jeans. "I thought that it would be better to change clothes after helping."

Ray considered the new pair of hands before him. How best to put Fraser to work? Polishing the cutlery? He's probably pretty good at polishing, considering. Vacuuming the dining room? The possibilities are endless.

Dani was gurgling happily in his best friend's arms and Connie was staring up at him in mute adoration.

"You know what would be really helpful." Ray said in a calculating manner.

"No. What, Ray?" Benny asked innocently.

"Ah, I dunno, it could be a little difficult."

Fraser raised an eyebrow, not fooled for one minute, but willing to go along with the charade.

"I'm sure that I could do it," he said obediently, "I am, after all, a mountie."

"Round up all the kids and get them into the back garden and keep them occupied."

He could have sworn that the mountie blanched.

"Ask one of the black widows," Ray continued, "in the kitchen for some cookies and milk an' stuff."

"Isn't it a bit early?" Fraser protested. "It is only eleven o'clock."

"They've been up since six."

"So they're hungry and excited." Fraser said lightly but his expression was strained.

Ray grinned demonically. "Your mission should you decide to accept it: is to keep the kids out of my hair."

He knew that Benny, unlike any other member of his family, wouldn't pounce on that expression with happy, sarcastic repartee. He left the mountie standing at the bottom of the stairs psyching himself up for his baby-sitting duties.

*

"Happy days are here again." Ray sang under his breath as he traversed the hallway. He'd rang the grocers and arranged a delivery of mozzarella cheese and fresh tomatoes after yesterday's deliveries had inexplicably disappeared. He had finished off the polishing and rearranged the cutlery after senile Aunt Tina had set out the whole service upside down. Ray had repaired the vacuum cleaner after Tony had broken the ancient machine. He had used one of Frannie's suspender belts to replace the now snapped fan belt. Tony had tried to repair the vacuum cleaner after it has stopped working - he hadn't realised that the bag was full - by aimlessly prodding with a sharp screwdriver. His brother-in-law's plaintive excuse that he hadn't used it before hadn't went down very well with the rest of the family. Great Aunt Rosa had had a funny turn and now was resting in the spare room with a damp cloth on her brow.

"Raimondo?"

"Yeah, Ma?" Ray asked as he threw his towels into the free bathroom.

"Did you remember to organise the driver to pick up Uncle Lorenzo to take him to the church?"

His mother appeared calm and content under her brand new pale blue suit and floppy matching hat, although the 'I'm the Greatest Mom' apron was a bit off-putting.

"You look wonderful, Ma. Did Frannie help you pick it?"

"Yes, caro. Have you organised..."

"Yes, cousin Vito - er...volunteered to chauffeur the old ...Uncle Lorenzo to the church."

"Good boy," she bestowed a motherly kiss on her son's unshaven cheek. "I'm proud of you. Now go get yourself cleaned up."

His throat inexplicably tight, Ray escaped into the bathroom. He wasn't too sure what had brought that on - he put it down to his Ma's new clothes and the emotions of the day. Quickly, Ray stripped off the grungy slacks and shirt; he only had an hour before he had to be at the church. Voices echoed beyond the open bathroom window. Standing on the edge of the bath, Ray peered out into the garden through the bathroom window. Benny was surrounded by eight or nine mini Vecchios. Dani was still in his arms and Kate was holding up a leaf for his analysis. Connie was rocking from side to side with typical Vecchio excitement. The tenor voice of their baby-sitter wafted in fits and starts though the window.

"The leaf....photosynthesises....called chloroplasts..."

Suprisingly the children looked enthralled; either that or the mountie had hypnotised them into a numb state.

"This reminds.....story. Have I .....Coyote?"

Grinning, Ray dropped down onto the ribbed tiles covering the bottom of the bath and switched on the water. Cleaning, relaxing, soothing water flowed over his face and sheeted down his chest. He revelled in the feeling, simply standing, allowing the water to draw away all the tensions of the day. For a timeless moment he stood letting his mind go blank - no responsibilities, no duties, no fear - then he turned and let the water play across his shoulders as he began to lather up and shave.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. And feels damn good.

*

Ray studied his reflection in the long mirror on his wardrobe. The cut of the fine suit accentuated his long frame and hid the boniness of his hips and knees. He would do his family proud. A tap on the door disturbed his thoughts. Fraser poked his head around the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Fraser too was freshly showered and changed and once again he was wearing his father's cast-off suit. He looked like some character from a sixties television programme.

Got to get him down to my tailors some day.

The mountie held a small wrapped gift.

"I wasn't too sure if I should give this to Richard and Francesca before or after the wedding?"

"After the wedding is more appropriate," Ray grinned, "you don't want to tempt fate - do you?"

"Oh."

Ray grinned at his friend's discomfort. Poor Benny had a serious streak as wide as Route 69 and was absolutely incapable of bantering.

"Can I...?" Fraser moved towards the bedside table.

"Leave it there? Sure - you don't want to be hauling it around all afternoon."

"Are you ready?" Fraser gestured at the immaculate suit. "It looks new."

"You sound like my Ma, Fraser."

"Sorry," the mountie dropped his eyes and examined the floor.

"Ah, Benny!" Ray crossed the room and punched Benny on the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm ready. I wonder if Frannie is."

The question was rhetorical but Fraser answered.

"I don't believe so. I heard her complaining that she had 'run a ladder' in her stockings."

"Listening with those bat ears again."

Fraser blushed furiously. "No, she was quite loud."

"Benny!" Ray said, exasperated. One day he would manage to teach his friend how to relax and move with the flow of Family.

Fraser looked up, that familiar perplexed look on his face.

"Look," Ray retrieved his car keys from his bedside table, "you take these and ferry the first set of relatives to the church."

Fraser was struck dumb as the keys hit his palm.

"I'm trusting you with my baby." Ray both threatened, warned and offered.

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser said sincerely, he wasn't as dense as he pretended.

"Get out of here!" Ray chivvied his friend out of the door.

Fraser smiled slightly, his innocent, child-like smile, and beat a hasty retreat. Ray watched him, over the banister, lightly bounce down the stairs. A mass of relatives were thronged in the hall. Maria and a handful of her children with Great Aunt Rosa peeled off with Fraser. Ray didn't allow himself to think how Fraser was going to get so many Vecchios into his mint condition Riveria. Tony held up his hand and rattled the station wagon keys and was instantly mobbed by the three witches. Like the exodus from Egypt, the rest of the extended Vecchio family found drivers and left. The house echoed - rarely, if ever, was it silent. The silence could come oppressive very quickly.

"Where's Ma?"

Frannie's voice made him spin around. Hair piled atop her head she didn't look like his sister but more like a character from one of her favourite romance novels. She was dressed in an elegant white suit. The cut of the suit was reminiscent of a Victorian riding outfit.

"You look great."

"Here, cara." Ma Vecchio called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hi, Ma," they said simultaneously.

Both siblings looked over the banister to their mother. She had dispensed with her apron and brushed her hair.

"Are you ready, cara mia?" their mother asked, her question was loaded with implications.

As Frannie leaned over the banister a single strand of hair detached itself from the soft French plait and trailed down her cheek.

"Yes, mama, I'm ready."

Sylvia Vecchio's gaze weighed her child, then apparently satisfied she nodded. "The limousine's here. I'll be going to the church now."

Without a backward glance she followed in the footsteps of her family.

"Well, that was strange." Ray said conspiratorially.

Frannie's brow furrowed in question.

"The way she just left." Ray elaborated.

"It's okay she did that last time and with Maria too. I guess she feels..."

"Ambivalent?" Ray supplied.

"That's a big word."

"Fraser needed it in a crossword the other day," Ray explained, "he explained what it meant - at length."

"Ambivalent that one of her babies is leaving home," Frannie laughed tightly, "again."

Sudden silence descended, Ray wondered frantically what he had done wrong. Frannie pushed the trailing hair behind her ear and looked at him sideways. Then with a secretive (and Ray decided feminine) smile she fluffed out her skirts and settled in a swirl of material on the top stair.

"You'll get your dress dirty." Ray protested.

"Ma had the cleaners in the other day; you could eat dinner off the floor."

"The house is quiet." Ray said for the lack of anything else to say.

"Yeah, good time to think."

Frannie's tone had changed - horribly introspective. He could see that her back was ramrod straight. Ray sat down. Armani joined rough silk. Together they watched the street ostensibly for the returning limousine, in reality Ray was waiting for Frannie to speak. Drumming his heels against the carpet, Ray watched Frannie examining her fingernails. She was nervous, that was understandable, but she was obviously gearing herself to speak.

"I asked you to give me away...."

"Yes." Ray said easily.

A light shattering tear was welling in her eye. Ray watched it trickle along a mascara coated eyelash and hang suspended above her cheek.

"I want you to give me away..." Frannie ran out of words.

Ray twisted on the stair. Frannie continued to look out of the window. The expression on his sister's face was as familiar as his reflection in a mirror. Ray's heart thrummed unsteadily - he's seen kids on the street, living under stairways, with the same resigned expression. It wasn't an expression that should be seen on anyone's face let alone a bride's.

"But not to Richard." Ray said directly.

"He's a good man." Frannie responded distantly.

Another long heartbeat of silence. A thousand and one thoughts ran through Ray's head.

"I never asked you this... I guess I didn't want the answer. Do you love him?"

The direct question made his sister's expression as immovable as stone. Behind the granite exterior he knew thoughts were churning. He'd liked the idea of Frannie married to Richard. Frannie needed to settle down with someone who would cherish her and keep her safe. Their old childhood friend was honest and diligent.

And as boring as Hell, Ray admitted reluctantly.

The question was still unanswered.

"I could learn too." Frannie said. "He loves me - he wants to take care of me. I trust him. He wants.... It could be like a' arranged marriage."

"You know, Frannie," he began and ran out of words. The stained glass window Frannie was staring at suddenly seemed more fascinating.

She wants someone else. Someone unobtainable. So she decided to take second best. Poor Richard. Ray fidgeted nervously with his cuffs, the easy option beckoned but that wouldn't be fair to Frannie, the family and ultimately Richard.

"Yes, Ray?" Frannie said in a very quiet flat voice. Totally unlike the sister that he knew and whilst he would never say it to her face, loved. He owed it to Frannie to voice this option. "If you want to call it off - no problem."

Ray could feel his ears burning as an embarrassed flush touched his face. The gentlest of kisses brushed his cheek.

"Oh, Ray."

"I mean..., hey, we'll just have a really good party this afternoon." Ray looked down at his vivacious sister - he'd meant it - if she decided that she didn't want to get married it was fine with him.

And he knew that the rest of the family would understand after he'd spoken to them.

fin