“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Simone came out from the kitchen and stood in the doorway next to Cris. He jutted his chin out in Ellie’s direction. “Those tears are not for the wedding, I’m guessing.”
“It’s a long story, Grandpa,” said Cris. “Probably longer than even I thought.”
“What did you do?” Simone raised one eyebrow at his grandson.
“I thought I was doing something good, but it turned out that it was going to hurt her. So I tried not to hurt her but ended up doing it anyway. Now I don’t know what is the right thing or who hurts more.”
“I am out of practice with complicated situations. Graziella is my friend. We never had a day of confusion. Age sort of does that to you. But”—Simone smiled and nudged Cris’s arm—“your grandmother was another story. We were young and full of passion. We fought, we cried, we made a mess of things, but we always found our way back to each other.”
“In my memories, you were always happy,” Cris said.
“Because we worked hard to be. If we had walked away from each other every time it looked like everything was over, we would have worn out our shoes. At some point we figured out how to stay put.”
“But I have to think you knew that you were supposed to be together—that you were sure of what you were fighting for.”
“The only thing I knew was that before Antonella, I was not aware of how much I lacked. Suddenly, when I was near her, I had everything I needed. And that was that.”
“That was that, huh?”
“The rest is an old man telling old stories.” Simone laughed. “I want to say one more thing: don’t think that just because you were okay without her once that you’ll be okay without her again.”
CHAPTER 26
Ellie drew in a breath as she stood at the entrance to the terrace of Bagni Delfino while the sun began to dip in the sky on the wedding day of Graziella Beltrami and Simone Conte. After taking an icy shower to be sure she didn’t sweat through the material, she had spent the better part of the last hour trussing her body parts with stretch polyester and then dance-testing the configuration to old Kylie Minogue songs with Ben. She was pretty sure that of all the malfunctions that could happen at a wedding where the average guest’s age was around seventy-eight, the containment of her breasts would be very low on the list.
Ben had worked his magic in only a couple of hours and had transformed the terrace from high school theater production to breezy-chic soiree that was a beach wedding Pinterest board come to life. He’d hung gauzy white fabric from the overhead beams to define the space, placed white candle lanterns all around the tables, and even had time to wrap fairy lights around the railings. The final touch had been a sprinkling of white and lavender rose petals alongthe aisle leading up to the trellis archway. The sparkling rosé Riviera sunset did all the rest.
It was go time. Ben signaled to one of the waitresses, and “Non ho l’eta” by Gigliola Cinquetti fired up on the speakers, surrounding the guests in a 1960s love song about not being old enough to love someone so much. The guests turned to one another and smiled in surprise while Simone grinned at the top of the aisle. It was perfect.
Ben turned to the cluster of bridesmaids standing at the entrance to the terrace and signaled. Maria Elena edged forward, followed by Pina, Renata, and Lucrezia. They clutched their small bouquets of tiny white roses and processed toward the trellis in time to the music. Finally it was just Ellie, Graziella, and Gio. Ellie gazed ahead down the aisle, at the end of which stood Ugo, Franco, Alessandro Jr, Leonardo, and Cris standing next to Simone. Simone wore a beige suit with a white shirt, but the groomsmen were all in light-blue linen shirts with the cuffs turned up. All sported orchid boutonnieres and the same sun-kissed faces.
Ellie took a deep breath. Not one cell in her body wanted to be walking down an aisle toward Cris, for any reason, but she reminded herself that Ben had estimated eight minutes for the whole ceremony from “Dearly beloved” to “You may now.” Eight minutes was the same amount of time it took to walk to Grand Central from her apartment, and she could usually do that before the NPR news podcast even finished. Eight minutes was nothing.
When Ellie and Ben were driving to the garden store in search of decorating materials, she had struggled to explain what had happened with Cris,Games Over, Teena, Omar, and everything else. “So, you’re telling me that you might be in trouble for not disclosing something about your training that, until five minutes ago, no one cared about. Then, Cris can’t do your show because you told the truth to anadministrative assistant. And then—wait.” He closed his eyes, thinking. “You think you might have feelings for him even though he ruined your chances at a career comeback—despite all of this—because you kissed under a big tree and looked at some old photos, but also because Chiavari smells like jasmine?”
“Is that what I said?” she asked as she gazed at a display of outdoor lighting.
“Pretty much. I don’t know why this is a bad thing. It seems to me like he might have done you a favor,” he said, examining a package of twinkle lights. “These are strobe flashers, so no. I am not trying to do Ibiza vibes.”
“He may have done me a favor by not trusting me? I don’t think these flash,” she said, pointing to another display.
“By not hanging you out to dry. By letting you design a clean start instead of going back to something that probably wasn’t right for you. Let’s face it: whether he planned it that way or not, it’s true,” he said, staring her down before she could protest.
“Even if it’s true, I would have liked to make that decision for myself—not have it made for me by someone who bails on a plan!”
“Are you serious? Any plan that hinges on one person to make it work is not a plan, it’s a Hail Mary.”
“Wow, sports reference.”
“Ya like that?” He grinned.
“No.”
“Even if he did the interview and it went fine, how long do you think it would be until some other catastrophe cropped up?”
“Because I would find a way to ruin it again, right? Because I’m a fraud.”
“Because the show ran its course and it’s done now. But you’re not.I know you don’t see it, but this is a good thing. There’s more to you than this.” Ben shook his head while he crouched among the shelves. “Since college, you’ve lived your life without relying on somebody else to fix things for you. Don’t start now.”
