Themorningandafternoonpass in a blur. Dante’s and Noah’s family and friends sit on white wooden chairs on the terrazzo waiting for the ceremony. The late afternoon sun gilds everything it touches with a golden glow. Bright pink bougainvillea drip from the walls and the wedding arbor, and a salty breeze fills the air with the perfume of the lemon trees and rosemary bushes surrounding the space.
It’s absolutely perfect, even if the marble altar in the background is a littleoff-brand.
Elliot, standing beside me waiting for our cue from the wedding planner, clears his throat. “I want to apologize again, for my behavior toward you yesterday. I don’t want to make excuses because I don’t have any, but I’m sorry.” He finishes his clearly rehearsed speech on a rush.
Maybe he’s not irredeemable. “Thank you for apologizing. Now, do better going forward.”
“I will. I’ll try. I left the online groups I was in. Henry is nothing like them. They talk about what to do to be successful. But they’re not successful or happy. Henry sees the world differently. I want to be like him.”
For a moment, I’m at a loss. “Henry has a very strong moral center. Emulate that, and everything else will fall into line.”
“I don’t remember much about my father. He died when I was small. But Henry gives off . . . well, sort of . . .dad energy, you know? If you don’t count the part with the cliff . . . or the knife . . . but, really, it’s best not to count those parts. He’s protective of the people he loves. I can’t find fault with that.”
I nod soberly, then speak on impulse. “I think Henry would love to hear that from you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he told you to keep in touch.”
“Really?” he asks eagerly.
“Really,” I say with a smile.
Henry may grumble, but he loves nothing better than knowing he did some good in the world.
The quartet plays, and Henry and his brother, Gabriel, wearing black tuxes, take their positions on the opposite side. Elliot and I enter from our own.
Henry’s lips quirk, his navy-blue gaze on mine.
Our seven-year-old niece, Phee, dark blonde hair in a curly updo and wearing a frothy sea-green dress to match mine, skips down the center aisle flinging flower petals from a basket, then she comes to a stop beside Henry.
He smiles at her, and she grins back and takes his hand to stand between him and Gabriel. After a moment, Phee shifts, putting a hand to the top of her head, and whispers something to Henry. He takes the empty basket and places it on the ground behind them, then appears to adjust a bobby pin in her updo. Phee relaxes and smiles back. Then Henry turns to look my way and wait for the two grooms to make their entrance.
I wouldn’t have been surprised by a swell of emotion during the ceremony. I didn’t expect it before it started.
I married this man. This is my life now. This mutual love and support and peace are mine. I don’t want to ever take it for granted.
When my eyes flood, Henry digs into his pocket and produces a clean, folded handkerchief, takes a single step toward me and stretches out his hand to place it in mine, then immediately steps back into position.
I mouth, “Thanks”just as Dante and Noah enter from opposite sides and walk toward each other.
I use the handkerchief again when big, tough Dante knuckles away a tear.
When the officiant asks for the rings, Henry produces them. Noah and Dante speak the vows they’ve written.
The ceremony goes quickly. Then, we’re cheering and filing out. Phee runs to her parents, and Henry offers me his arm as we enter the villa.
Henry guides me into the room set up for the cocktail hour and passes me a glass of the limoncello signature drink the guys chose.
When I take a sip, he asks, “Do you feel the need to sing bad karaoke?”
“Do you?”
“Not sure. I need to double check.” He takes another sip of his own. “I don’t feel the urge to sing, but I think I can make out theMamma Mia!soundtrack somewhere in the distance.”
I laugh.
He tugs me against his body. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll stay long enough to be seen when the guests enter for the cocktail hour.”
“Okay?”
He nods decisively. “Fifteen minutes should be adequate. After which time, you and I will find some privacy before the reception starts.”
