A Full Moon's Influence

Jimmy Vinci wasn’t interested in her. His mother kept at him though. “Stacy is a lovely girl, Jimmy. Give her a chance. You’re gonna like her, believe me. I know these things.”

 “Ma, she’s not too good looking. I don’t want to say she’s ugly. That would be going too far, but she sure isn’t pretty.”

 “And you’re handsome? You look just like your father and he was a Faccia Brutta, God rest his soul.” Although it was just after ten o’clock at night, she was making her son breakfast; peppers and eggs. He worked the midnight shift at the Ford assembly plant. Her son Jimmy wasn’t as bad looking as his father. He just didn’t get enough of her genes to make up for the Vinci genes. She put the sweet vinegar peppers and eggs on his plate with Italian bread toast.

“You’re off work, tomorrow, right?” his mother asked.

“Yeah, why?” He took a bite of egg, making sure it had some peppers.

“Stacy is coming to dinner. Be nice to her.”

“Again? That’s like the third time this month. Ma, you can have her to dinner every night, I’m not asking her out.”

“Of course, you will. The moon’s gonna be full tomorrow night. You’ll see.” Mrs. Vinci, a widow for the last seven years, poured them both a cup of coffee and sat next to her son. Her husband had made up for his caveman looks with charm and his devotion to her. She fell in love with him in spite of his looks. She took a loud sip of her coffee and turned to her son. “What do I have left in my life, Jimmy? Your father is up in heaven. Your sister is married but doesn’t want kids. All I have is you and I want you to give me grandchildren. Is that too much to ask?”

“You want grandchildren? Is that what you want, that I should marry Stacy and give you brutti nipoti?” He smiled and took another bite.

“There’s no such thing as an ugly grandchild.” She punched his arm. “Bite your tongue, stunod.”

Jimmy finished his eggs quickly. He would rather be early for work than listen to his mother talk about his love life. Not that he had one. Occasionally, he would ask a girl out and take her to a movie, or for pizza and beer. The girls he met all seemed to come from the Irish neighborhoods. Unlike Stacy, they were pretty, with their light hair and light complexions.

Second dates, though, were rare. Driving his four-year-old souped up, 1955 Ford Fairlane into those neighborhoods was a challenge to the young men who didn’t want their sisters dating an Italian. He didn’t dare leave his car in front of a girl’s house for very long. Invariably, he would come out and find a flat tire. One time his car’s aerial was torn off.

At four o’clock the following afternoon, having spent the day playing pool in the basement of his best friend Danny’s house, he came home, took a shower and got dressed to go out. Mrs. Vinci was waiting for him. “You look nice. Stacy will be here in about a half hour.”

“Tell her I said hello.” He took a couple of steps toward the aluminum storm door.

She stepped in front of him. “Jimmy, I made lasagna and I need you to grill steaks for us. You can’t go anywhere.”

“Ma, I’m going out.” He started to walk around her.

“You’re going to embarrass me? What would your father say if he was here?”

“He’d say he was going out too.”

Mrs. Vinci started to cry. She had the best crying technique ever. She didn’t make a sound, but her eyes produced tears the way cars rolled off Ford’s assembly line, an endless stream. It never failed. It worked on her husband and her son.

An hour later, Jimmy sat down to dinner with his mother and Stacy. It was true, the young woman wasn’t pretty, but she had a nice figure and her high cheek bones made her face interesting. She was an eighth-grade teacher and she was a very good bowler, averaging close to 200. “What did you do today, Jimmy?” Stacy asked.

“I played pool at Danny’s house. I won a few bucks.”

“Oh! I just talked to Danny. He called me just before I left.”

“You talked to Danny?” Jimmy was curious now.

“I did. He asked me out,” Stacy said, a sly smile on her face.

Jimmy was speechless. Danny asked Stacy out? He took another closer look at her. He glanced at his mother. She was smiling. Her face said, “I told you so.”

“Are you going out with him?”

“I told him I’d think about it.” She was carefully concentrating on her lasagna. 

“Don’t you like him?” Jimmy asked.

“He’s okay, I guess. I’m kind of waiting for somebody else to ask me.”

Jimmy put his fork down and pushed his plate away. “You wanna go out with me tomorrow night?”

Mrs. Vinci got up and went to the kitchen window. “See, it’s a full moon tonight.”