“Perfect, darling.”
“This whole thing is mad. You know that, don’t you?”
“We’re all mad here,” Evelyn said, eliciting a small smile at the reference to one of their childhood favorites. She stood and kissed Ruthie’s cheek, thanking her, then removed the wig to dress.
Sneaking out of the house in Minnie Goldblatt’s wig, her mother’s favorite hat, and her own best dress didn’t faze Evelyn. But she did hesitate briefly at the steps of the church. She had never been inside one before. Attending mass in a Catholic church felt blasphemous. Would she be conspicuous for not taking Communion—a step too far even for her? The town was fairly tolerant of the Jewish population, though there had been a few swastikas drawn on doors during the war—done by children, but done nonetheless. Would anyone recognize her and be offended by her presence?
But self-doubt never had a firm grip on Evelyn’s psyche. So she squared her shoulders, angled her head down, and walked through the large doorway, selecting an inconspicuous pew in the back of St. Peter’s, named for the patron saint of the town’s Portuguese fishermen population.
The ceremony itself was conducted in a combination of Portuguese and English. Evelyn watched Tony, beaming from under her hat at how handsome he looked in his suit. And she was relieved to see many of the congregants refusing Communion as they had not yet been to confession for the week.
It lasted longer than her brothers’ and sisters’ weddings, though when she was ten and wearing uncomfortable shoes, she thought Bernie’s wedding was the longest thing she had ever experienced. And when it was over, she flowed out with the rest of the crowd, waiting until the photographer had snapped some family photos and Felipe and Beatriz were safely ensconced in a car on their way to the reception before grabbing Tony’s arm. “Parabéns,” she said, having practiced the pronunciation after learning it from Beatriz. He turned at the sound of her voice, then stared at the familiar face framed by blonde hair before laughing.
“You’re too much.” He shook his head, reaching up to touch a blonde lock. “Where did you get this? Don’t tell me it’s your real hair?”
“Might have swiped Ruthie’s mother’s good wig. But if you like it, we can talk about a dye job.”
He covered his face with his hands briefly, then put an arm around her waist. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“I’m not sure I can fly.”
“If you set your mind to it, you probably could. Will you come to dinner in your disguise?”
She smiled. “Try and stop me.”
The dinner was unlike any wedding reception Evelyn had attended, with a buffet and open seating, in the town’s social hall. No one danced the hora or lifted the new couple in chairs, a napkin held between them, but the air was festive, and the small band played traditional Portuguese music while the liquor flowed freely.
Tony’s younger siblings eyed her warily, clearly an intruder whom their brother should not be talking to so closely until they got a better look at her. Carolina recognized her first, elbowing Francisca sharply and gesturing wildly before running over. Evelyn turned just as Carolina was about to cry out her name and put a finger to her lips. The little girl hugged her fiercely around the waist all the same, followed quickly by Francisca.
“What are you doing here?” Francisca asked while Carolina questioned what she did to her hair.
“It’s a loaner,” Evelyn said, fluffing the ends slightly. “My family doesn’t know I’m here.” She looked at the two girls conspiratorially. “What should my name be as your brother’s new girlfriend for the night? I need something Portuguese-sounding.”
“Maria something,” Francisca said immediately.
“But that’s your mother’s name!” The girls and Tony all laughed. “What?”
“That’s all of our names,” Carolina said. “I’m Maria Carolina and she’s Maria Francisca.”
Evelyn turned to Tony. “Don’t tell me you’re Maria Antonio.”
“It’s got a nice ring to it,” he said.
She shook her head and turned back to the girls. “Okay then, Maria what?”
They studied her. “Teresa,” Carolina offered after a moment, and Francisca agreed.
“Maria Teresa it is,” Evelyn said, turning back to Tony. “Your girlfriend would be furious.”
He put an arm around her waist and pulled her toward the dance floor. “Let her be.” Carolina and Francisca watched them, wondering when they would be old enough for someone to be as in love with them as their brother was with Evelyn.