“Romeo,” Brando said, taking the glass Guido offered him full of whiskey. “He’s going to get split ends over this. Haha.” His laughter came out deep and boisterous, but with that raspy touch. Rare.
Guido grinned into his cup. Romeo had been dogging Guido about not having a woman, and rubbing it in that he was getting married first. Not true anymore.
Lou looked between them, but she held her tongue. Marriage was more important than whatever was going to give Romeo split ends. After all, she could deal with that mess. Personally, I’d rather deal with marriage. She had no idea how Romeo could be withthehair.
“I was so, so drunk!” Lou said, shaking her head back and forth.
Guido waved a hand. “Drink makes the mouth speak the truth. I was drunk as well. We were both being honest. In time, we will have a proper wedding in a church.”
“What about my mother?” she screamed all of a sudden.
Guido was about to take a drink. Instead, it splashed all over his chin and hands. “This is my responsibility now,” he said, reaching out for a napkin on the bar. “I will make the call.”
“Like hell you will!”
She went to snatch the phone out of his hand, but he was too quick. He held it too high above her head. I had to give it to her. She could jump pretty high in heels.
“How do you say… ah, watch me,” and then without warning, Guido placed a kiss on Lou’s lips that made her freeze in motion. Her fingers still opened and closed, but nothing else moved.
I kicked Brando when he started to laugh.
“She looks like she’s been frozen in ice while squeezing melons, but her fingers still work,” Brando whispered to me.
I tried not to laugh. Laughing at her was like laughing at myself. I had been there, donethat.
“Do what you must,” she said after a few seconds, and then, with dramatic flair, turned and headed toward the bedroom.
I had to take her shoulders and set her in the opposite direction—she was going the wrong way.
“I will always,” Guido said, loud enough that we both heard him.
Her shoulders stiffened, but she soldiered ahead. I followed behind and then watched as she picked up and slammed my things down on the counter. Her hands trembled.
I set mine over hers, stopping her. “It’s going to be all right, Lou,” I whispered. “Guido is a good man. He loves you. It’ll work out. For the best.”
I had promised Brando that unless life or limb was at stake, I wouldn’t meddle in other people’s love lives. After Livio and Santina, I had been shy about sharing my feelings toward the outcome of relationships. Even if peoplethinkthey want to know, they really don’t. But I could feel Lou’s fear, and if I could relieve that some, why not? Sometimes fear felt like impending death.
After I confessed that my feelings were good about her and Guido, she used one hand to tap at the counter with lipstick, her eyes frozen to our hands.
“I—” She shook her head. “What color is your dress?”
I gave her hand a squeeze before turning around and unzipping the garment bag. Violet had sent it over for me. A sensual red dress that was new off my mother’s line.
“Oh no!” I took a step back after the dress was fully revealed. “What thehellis this?”
Lou cracked a smile and then started laughing. “Bette Milder inFor The Boys?”
“This isn’t my dress!”
“Do you have another one?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I was trying to pack light, and—no, nothing I have is right for tonight.”
“Okay, try it on. Maybe it’ll look better. Sometimes that happens. I’ll hate something on the rack but love it on.”
The dress was army green with big gold tassels, a thick black belt around the waist, and shoulder pads that gave me faux muscles. It was probably meant for one of the Beatles on their Sergeant Pepper album.
Lou tossed a tassel. “See? It’s not so—” She met my eye. “You’re right. A tutu would be better than this.”
