In the coming weeks, Phyllis and Raphael were practically growing inseparable. He sometimes dropped over for dinner every now and again. One evening, while she was preparing dinner, Fluey walked into the kitchen, and noticed she seemed happier than normal. She was cooking out of several pots and pans, and was singing the Crystals' "Then He Kissed Me" under her breath.
"Hi, sis," he said. "What's cooking?"
"Something special," Phyllis said, putting something in the blender. "I've got big news."
"Mr. Perfect isn't coming over again, is he?" Fluey asked.
"No, he isn't. It's just the three of us."
Fluey didn't say anything. He opened the oven door a little to see what was cooking, and suddenly slammed it shut again.
"Yeeeccchhh!" he shouted. "What the heck are you cooking, anyway?"
"Coq au vin," Phyllis said, as she sliced a baguette.
"Run that by me again?" Fluey asked, giving his sister a weird look.
"It's French," Phyllis said, taking the blender and pouring whatever it was she stuck in there in a small bowl. "It's basically chicken and vegetables cooked in red wine. It's the chief's favorite."
"But it smells awful!"
"That's mainly because you're spoiled with pizza, burgers, and French fries. You don't appreciate gourmet cooking."
Fluey didn't respond. He also learned Phyllis was planning the whole meal with French food. She had just put a hunk of goose liver paté in the blender. The thought of it kind of turned his stomach a little.
"What's say we order pizza?" he suggested.
Phyllis shot him a dirty look, and went back to cooking. She had finished preparing the meal and setting the table when Big D returned home from the office.
"Glad you're here, chief," Fluey said. "Gotta gas mask on you?"
"One more crack like that, and I'll crack you, Fluey!" Phyllis called from the kitchen.
"I may have to start regretting I disclosed the other family secret to you two," Big D said, rolling his eyes. "It now only means I have to put up with sibling rivalry."
"Both Multi and Coiley say fighting is how brothers and sisters show affection," Fluey shrugged.
Big D said nothing, and looked at the dining room table.
"Quite a spread," he commented. "What's the occasion?"
"I've got big news," Phyllis said. "And I wanted to make sure you'd be in a good mood before I spring it on you, chief."
"Big news, eh?" Big D asked.
"You're not pregnant, are you?" Fluey asked, suspiciously.
"No," Phyllis said, glaring at her brother. "Fluey, I swear, you are just so impossible!"
"You're just finding that out, now?" Fluey asked, giving his sister a look.
"All right, all right, that's enough," Big D said. "So what's this big news of yours?"
"Okay," Phyllis said, clearing her throat. "Raphael asked me to go steady."
"Steady?" Fluey repeated. "Oh great. Just great. Now we'll be seeing even more of Mr. Perfect!"
"I don't understand why you don't like him, Fluey," Phyllis said. "He's a perfectly nice guy!"
"That's what they said about Jack the Ripper," Fluey mumbled.
"I heard that!" Phyllis shouted.
"That's enough," Big D said, trying to restore a little order. "So you're going steady, eh? Never thought I'd live to see the day that would happen."
"Considering you chase away all her boyfriends," Fluey commented. "I'm surprised you haven't done it with a shotgun yet."
"That's quite enough out of you, young man," Big D said. Then he sighed. "Be glad I don't try to scare off your girlfriend. Honesty, I wish you kids would meet someone I'd actually like."
"Eh?" Fluey said. "You mean to tell me you don't like Danalleah, chief?"
"Not especially," Big D admitted. "I don't approve of your relationship with her. And I don't necessarily approve of you dating this Raphael Caprezio person, Phyllis, but I realize if I tried to forbid you from seeing him, and if I forbade you to see Danalleah Critch, Fluid, I'd only end up with a couple of Romeo and Juliet scenarios, which is the last thing I want."
Fluey didn't say anything. Things were quiet for a few moments, and then Phyllis cleared her throat again.
"There's actually more," she said.
"I can't wait to hear this," Fluey muttered. Phyllis ignored him.
"Raphael invited me over to his parents' house next Sunday for dinner," she continued. "And he wants me to bring you two along. He said his parents really want to meet you two."
"Hmm, it is getting serious between you two, isn't it?" Big D asked.
"Can we get an assignment for that night, chief?" Fluey asked. "Or schedule a gig or something?"
"No," Big D said, flatly. "If I'm going, then you're going. End of discussion."
"Geez . . . . ." Fluey groaned. "What a time for crime to be slow."
Neither Big D, nor Phyllis, paid any attention to him.
A couple of days later, all three Impossibles were in Mike's garage, watching him fiddle with an engine, while Fluey was giving them an update.
"So now they're going steady, and she wants to drag Big D and me with her to meet Mr. Perfect's parents," he said. "Have you been able to find anything about him, Mike?"
"Unfortunately, no," Mike said, tightening a bolt.
"He seemed all right to me," Multi said, shrugging. "I don't understand what the problem is, Fluey."
"He's just too perfect," Fluey said. "He's got to be covering up something. I just don't know what."
"I think you've been in this business too long, Fluey," Coiley said. "You're suspicious of everybody these days."
Fluey didn't answer.
Sunday rolled around, and Fluey, Phyllis, and Big D were heading for the ritzy part of Megatropolis to meet Raphael's parents. And Fluey was not looking forward to this one little bit.
"I kind of had a feeling he was a rich snob," he said. "His parents are probably snobs, too."
"Fluey, he is not a rich snob!" Phyllis shouted. "Would it kill you to look at this situation with a positive attitude?"
"Maybe," Fluey said.
"Chief . . . ." Phyllis said, throwing her grandfather a pleading look. Big D sighed.
"I don't like it any more than you do, Fluid, but please, behave yourself," he said. "As a favor to your sister."
"Oh all right," Fluey said, grudgingly.
"Promise you won't ask any personal questions, or bring up any uncomfortable subjects."
"Aw, geez, chief, what do you take me for?"
"Just promise it, young man."
"All right, all right, I promise no personal questions, and no bringing up uncomfortable subjects."
Big D parked the car at the curb, and he, Fluey, and Phyllis got out, and walked up to the large mansion. Phyllis straightened out her skirt, and rang the doorbell. Raphael answered it a few minutes later.
"Hi," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Come on in."
"Thanks," Phyllis said. She walked in, and Big D and Fluey followed her. Raphael led them down a long hallway to a den of sorts, featuring two large sofas, a pool table, a state of the art entertainment system, and a fully stocked bar. There was a man and a woman sitting on one of the sofas. They stood up when Raphael entered the room.
"They're here!" Raphael announced. "Mom and Dad, I'd like you to meet Phyllis Dawson, her grandfather, Mr. Davis Dawson, and her brother Franky. Guys, these are my parents, Mario and Francesca Caprezio."
"Mario and Francesca Caprezio," Fluey repeated. "Italian descent, I take it?"
"That's right," Mr. Caprezio said.
That figures, Fluey thought to himself, but he didn't say it out loud (though he wanted to).
"Well, let's not just stand around here," Mrs. Caprezio said. "I hope you all are hungry."
Raphael and his parents led Phyllis, Fluey, and Big D to their dining room, and they all sat down.
"I hope you like spaghetti," Mrs. Caprezio said, smiling.
"Spaghetti?" Fluey said. "Ick."
"What's wrong with spaghetti?" Phyllis asked, shooting her brother a dirty look.
"Nothing," Fluey said. "It's just that ever since the Manikatti incident, I've sworn off of Italian food."
"Then explain the four slices of pepperoni pizza you ate after Friday's gig at the pizza parlor," Phyllis said.
Fluey glared at his sister, and said nothing.
Once Mrs. Caprezio served dinner, she and her husband got into a conversation with Big D, while Phyllis and Raphael talked. Fluey wasn't paying any attention to either conversation. He was too busy scrutinizing Raphael's parents. They looked young. Both had dark hair and dark eyes, and they looked like they were in their mid forties, maybe a little younger, he wasn't sure. As a matter of fact, Fluey thought they looked a little young to be the parents of a twenty-six-year-old. For all he knew, Mario and Francesca Caprezio might have been teenagers when Raphael was conceived, but he wasn't going to bring that up. After all, he made a promise to the chief and his sister, and if he broke it, he'd be in big trouble. He also noted that Raphael didn't look like either of his parents whatsoever. There was no resemblance at all. But that didn't necessarily mean anything. Raphael could have been adopted. Either that, or he could look like someone in his extended family. He knew FG looked nothing like either of her parents, but she was the mirror image of her maternal grandmother. Genetics were weird.
"You're awfully quiet over there, Franky," Mrs. Caprezio said.
"Huh?" Fluey asked, snapping to attention.
"This is a switch for him," Phyllis said. "Usually, we can't get him to shut up."
"That's because he insists on being the center of attention," Big D commented.
"Come on, chief, I do not!" Fluey shouted.
"You know, I've been meaning to ask . . . . ." Raphael said. "Phyllis, why do you and Franky call your grandfather 'chief'? I call mine Gramps."
"Well . . . . ." Phyllis said, trying to think of an excuse.
"'Cause he's chief of the family, you know?" Fluey said, quickly. "I mean . . . . . since we live with him, and all . . . . ."
"If you don't mind me asking," Mr. Caprezio said. "Why don't you live with your parents, Franky?"
"Because they're dead," Fluey said, shrugging. "Both sets."
"Beg pardon?" Mrs. Caprezio asked.
"Long story," Phyllis said. "Very long, and complicated story!"
"Yeah," Fluey said. "I'm not gonna go into it, 'cause we'll be here all night. All I can tell you, though, is our dad was murdered. By an Italian mob boss."
"Franklin . . . . ." Big D said, in a warning tone.
"They're the ones who asked, chief!" Fluey protested.
"Please forgive my brother," Phyllis said, turning to Raphael's parents. "He's . . . . . a bit uneasy with me dating Raphael."
"Ahhh, I see," Mr. Caprezio said, nodding. Then he lowered his voice. "I think I know the problem. I have an older sister myself, and I acted the same way when she was dating. Though I was a bit younger than Franky. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Phyllis. I think he's just a little J-E-A-L-O-U-S that you're spending so much time with a new boyfriend."
"I heard that, and I am not jealous!" Fluey shouted.
After that, Fluey decided to keep his mouth shut, mainly because he figured Phyllis would start kicking him under the table, like she did when she brought Raphael home for dinner for "The Boyfriend Test."
A week had passed, and it didn't look like "Mr. Perfect" would be out of the Dawsons' lives any time soon, much to Fluey's dismay. And he absolutely hated it. He gave the others an update while Mike was giving them a "lesson" in auto shop, using a wreck that had been salvaged by another agent
"You're still hung up on this, aren't you, Fluey?" Mike asked, as he helped Multi tighten a bolt in the engine.
"Look, I just think something's up," Fluey said. "I just haven't figured it out yet. Besides which, Mr. Perfect's parents looked too young to even be his parents."
"I've got two words for you, Fluey," Multi said. "Plastic surgeon. My mother's been to several up in Maine."
"How frequently?" Coiley asked.
"Let's just say they did less work on Mount Rushmore than the surgeons on my mother," Multi replied. Coiley, Fluey, and Mike got the gist right away. "In any case, Fluey, that's probably why they look too young to you. Wealthy women tend to do that sort of thing. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience. The minute my mother even thinks she's showing signs of aging, she makes an appointment with her plastic surgeon."
"You're mom's a rich snob, Multi?" Mike asked.
"Well, sort of," Multi said, shrugging. "A couple of years after she and my dad got divorced, she married a rich guy, so . . . . . actually, come to think of it, I think my stepfather also goes in for plastic surgery. Not as often as my mother, but . . . . ."
"Yeah, okay, I get the point," Fluey said.
"Personally, I think you don't like the guy because he's Italian," Coiley said.
"Hey, man, after the Manikatti incident, I am never trusting another Italian for as long as I live!" Fluey shouted.
"But, Fluey, you are half Italian," Multi pointed out.
"Who's side are you on, anyway?" Fluey shouted, losing his patience.
"Hey, Fluey, chill," Mike said. "Okay? Just calm down. I don't like this guy, either, but there's nothin' we can do about it. At least not until I can manage to dig up some dirt."
"Have you ever figured out where you saw him before, Mike?" Coiley asked.
"No, and it's gonna drive me out of my mind," Mike said.
"I hope you can come up with something soon, Mike," Fluey said. "Meeting the parents is never a very good sign. Right, Coiley? Didn't your sister get married shortly after her husband introduced her to his parents?"
"Yeah," Coiley said. "But I think you're blowing this out of proportion. I think Raphael's father had a point."
"What, you guys think I'm jealous of my sister's boyfriend?" Fluey asked.
"Yes," both Multi and Coiley said in perfect unison.
"Thanks a lot," Fluey said, glaring at his friends.
In order to restore a little peace, Mike changed the subject, and went back to showing the boys the anatomy of an automobile, and he forbade them to discuss anything about Raphael Caprezio for the rest of the session.
A few months later, the Impossibles, Big D, Phyllis, and the girls had been invited out to dinner by Raphael and his family. They went to a casual place, where it happened to be karaoke night, so the group had to sit through several people butchering classic songs.
"I hope none of our songs is in that machine," Fluey groaned, cringing at an incredibly bad, and way off key rendition of Chubby Checker's "The Twist."
"That would be pretty humiliating," FG commented. "Can you imagine somebody singing one of your songs badly in front of total strangers?"
After this guy was done mutilating "The Twist," (which he only got a very half-hearted round of applause for) Shawn, FG, and Danalleah got up, and took the stage.
"What are they up to?" Big D asked.
"They're probably going to sing," Multi said, shrugging.
"I hope they're better than some of these people we've heard already," Raphael commented.
The music started, and the girls swung into a rendition of the Supremes' "Stop in the Name of Love," and they added some choreography to the mix.
"I wonder how long they've been rehearsing this?" Coiley asked.
"This explains the singing I've been hearing every time I pass the mail room," Phyllis commented. When the girls were finished, they got a huge round of applause (as well as a couple of wolf whistles), and then they returned to the table.
"You girls were great!" Fluey shouted. "We'll have to take you along on our next tour as our opening act."
"Thanks," Danalleah said. "We've been dying to show you our act, but we haven't found the chance to until now."
"Well, that was a great surprise," Phyllis said.
"Speaking of surprises, I've got one for you, too, Phyllis," Raphael said. Then he stood up, and walked over to the stage. The opening chords of the Associations' "Cherish" came out of the speakers, and Raphael began singing. Then, he started to walk toward the table, still singing. The group figured he already knew the song by heart, and didn't need the lyric screen. Once the song was over, people began applauding, but Raphael held up his hand to stop them.
"Hold your applause, please, folks," he said. "There's more to come. The song I just sang is dedicated to a very special lady. The most beautiful, charming, perfect lady I have ever had the pleasure of being with. I cherish all the time we have already spent together, and hope that there will be many more moments with her to cherish. She is the person I've been waiting my entire life for."
Raphael then got down on one knee in front of Phyllis, and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened it, and held it up to Phyllis. Inside was a diamond ring.
"Phyllis Marie Dawson," Raphael said, directly into the microphone. "Will you marry me?"
Phyllis didn't know what exactly to say just then. She knew all eyes were on her, waiting for her to answer, but she couldn't seem to find her voice. Finally, she took the microphone.
"Yes," she managed to say. "Yes, Raphael, I'll marry you."
The entire restaurant burst into applause and cheers (and a few collective "awwwws" here and there). FG, Danalleah, and Shawn began squealing excitedly, and they swarmed around Phyllis to see the rings. There was a lot of hugging, a lot of handshaking, and a lot of congratulating going on. Fluey just sat there. He was not getting into the spirit of things, that was for sure, but nobody noticed. They were all too preoccupied with the proposal. Fluey just gave Raphael a look, practically glaring daggers at him. There was no way in the world he was going to allow this rich Mr. Perfect so-and-so marry his sister.