With impeccable timing, Valentina bustles into my room, looking more frazzled than I’ve ever seen her.
“Abella!” she shrieks when she sees I’m still in my bathrobe. “We’re behind schedule already. We need to get moving.”
“Well, I was waiting for you,” I groan. “Where have you been?”
She blows out a breath, her eyes darting away as she starts issuing orders like a drill sergeant. “Don’t worry about it. I need you to get showered. You have hair and makeup in thirty. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No,” I tell her. “But I’m not really hungry.”
“I’ll order some fruit and pastries,” she mumbles to herself as she picks up the hotel phone. “Can’t have you passing out.”
I shoot Nicky one last pleading glance, and he tosses me a wink. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Traitor,” I mutter.
He shuts the slider behind him, and Valentina is halfway through her phone order when she glances my way and starts waving her hand frantically.
“Go. Shower. Schedule.”
“Oh my god, okay. I’m going.”
My shower ends after twenty-three minutes, and I know this because Valentina pounds on the door until I make an appearance, rattling off a list of everything we need to do. Even for her, this is a bit much. So I stop the tiny tyrant before she can issue any more orders and attempt to calm her down.
“Val, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”
Her shoulders sag as she starts blinking rapidly, fighting off a rush of tears. “There have been a few hiccups,” she says. “The flowers were lost in transit. The cake delivery hasn’t arrived, and all the centerpieces and tablecloths went missing last night. Everything’s going wrong, and I’m trying to fix it?—”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can I not?” She sobs. “This is your day, and it’s the most important wedding I’ll ever be a part of, and nothing is going to plan.”
“Val.” I pull her in for a hug and let her be in her feelings for a minute before I talk her off the ledge. “I don’t care about any of that stuff, so please don’t stress about it. Whatever happens,it will be okay. Who cares if we have no cake or tablecloths? Honestly, none of that matters.”
“But you should care.” She wipes her eyes. “That’s why I hate this. And now, instead of your wedding being remembered as a beautiful day, it’s just going to be sad and pathetic. It’s not fair.”
“Val, I can’t have you lose it right now. Not today. If you lose it, I’m gonna lose it.”
“I know, I know,” she blubbers. “I’m sorry. Madonna, Mia. Just…give me a minute.”
She takes a few deep breaths, composing herself, and then steps back into the mask we wear so well.
“Okay, we need to get to the bridal suite. We’ll put on some music and handle our business.”
“That’s the spirit,” I tell her.
Five minutes later, I’m ushered into the bridal suite, where chaos is already unfolding. My bridesmaids flit about the room, carrying heels, dresses, and makeup bags while stuffing croissants in their mouths and washing them down with champagne.
“Hair of the dog?” I shoot Gabs a questioning glance.
“There’s no need to yell.” She moans, pressing her fingers to her temples.
“That good, huh?”
“Why aren’t you more hungover?” she asks.
“There’s no time for this right now.” Val directs me to the vanity chair, but before I can sit down, the door opens again, and Antonella Vitale appears.
“Nonna’s here!” The girls shout in unison, surrounding her as they pepper her with hugs and kisses. It’s a universal rule that no matter who we are, we greet her as such, because in our world, she’s everybody’s Nonna.
