Authors: Kate Hofman
“I
don’t know, Tom. Maybe you better ask him.”
Apparently
even Tom did not dare go quite that far. “I’ll trust his innate sense of
what is proper for the occasion. You come with me, dear girl, and let me
show you off to your bridegroom.”
When
Tom, with a loud “Ta-da!” presented Connie to Alessandro, the glitter of
delight in the remarkable blue of his eyes indicated to her that Tom had been
right. Alessandro did want the wedding to be special. She thought
back to the exchange of endearments early that morning, and began to hope that
their marriage might make them happier than she had at first expected.
Alessandro
quickly went to their bedroom to change into his groom suit, as he called
it. When he came back into the living room, Tom was relieved to see him
impeccably attired in black Armani.
“Perfect,
dear boy, perfect,” Tom pronounced.
Alessandro
grinned. “I half expected to be sent back to the walk-in to do
better. Glad you approve.”
“Okay,
kids, let’s get this show on the road. I guess Jeff is already at the
trunk, getting your bridal bouquet and the
boutonnières
for us.”
Noticing Alessandro’s stricken look, he grinned. “I told you to leave
everything to me, and you see now how wise that was. You would’ve
forgotten flowers for your bride—tsk, tsk.”
Connie
was amazed to see a bouquet of white roses. “For me?” she stammered.
“Of
course for you, dear girl. Alessandro would look silly carrying those
flowers.”
Connie
laughed. “Tom, you’re somethin’ else.”
“It’s
4:12, girl, get into the Bentley. You beside her, Alessandro.”
“Yes,
sir! We’re hurrying,” Alessandro mocked. Quietly, he said to Jeff,
“Thanks for doing Connie’s flowers—I had totally forgotten about them.”
“That’s
what you got us for,” Jeff grinned. “She makes a beautiful bride, doesn’t
she?”
He was surprised at the emotion in Alessandro’s husky voice when he said, “Yes,
beautiful.”
When they arrived at Judge Macmillan’s chambers, Marcella and Mac were waiting
for them. Jeff hastily dug the rosebud posy out of the trunk and handed
it to Marcella. Tom pinned a
boutonnière
to Mac’s lapel. “I
sent some ahead to your Uncles, Alessandro,” he said. “And corsages for
your Nonna and Aunt Sophia.”
“Thank
you, Tom. You and Jeff have thought of everything.”
“That’s
how it should be. You just concentrate on marrying this dear girl—and be
sure to make her happy! That’s an order.” Tom did his best to look
ferocious, failing dismally.
Alessandro’s
deep voice was solemn. “I’ll do my best, Tom.”
Tom
nodded. “I believe you.” Quickly, he organized the party into the
semblance of a bridal procession, and when they arrived in the waiting room of
Judge Macmillan’s chambers, the Italian contingent—to use Tom’s phrase—was
there.
The
Judge’s secretary came into the waiting room, and shepherded the party into the
Judge’s chambers where the marriage ceremony would take place.
Somewhat
to Connie’s surprise, the Judge insisted on them speaking their vows, but she
was happy about it. She wanted to say out loud that she would love and
cherish Alessandro as long as she lived. She wondered, would he want to
speak his vows to her?
When
the time came and his deep voice intoned the words the Judge gave him to speak,
Connie wondered no longer. Alessandro was taking this wedding as
seriously as she—the big difference being that she loved him and he felt
passion and friendship for her…
****
Once
they were married, they went to the reception at Tom and Jeff’s.
Alessandro frowned—he wanted this reception to be memorable for Connie, but he
had only flown Nonna, his two favourite uncles and Aunt Sophia over. His
mother was at a health spa—disappointing him by saying she would prefer not to
interrupt the treatments. She would be at the church wedding, and that
was what mattered.
Alessandro
quickly realized he need not have been concerned. Tom and Jeff had
invited enough people to make the reception cheerful and enjoyable for
Connie.
After
receiving the good wishes and blessings of his family—his friends and Connie’s
came over quickly to wish them happiness. Next, people he and Connie had
enjoyed meeting at the art gallery gave their good wishes.
Marcella
put her lips close to Connie’s ear and whispered, “It seems to me that
Alessandro is very happy at being married to you. That is not the face of
a man who entered into a sensible marriage to avoid his mother’s matchmaking.
He
looks like a very happy newlywed.”
“You
think so, Marcella?” Connie asked, slanting a glance at Alessandro— who just
then was gazing at her. He pressed his lips together in an air
kiss. Connie hastily did the same, and Alessandro strode back to
her.
“Forgive
me for abandoning you for a moment, Roberto had something to ask me.”
“Alessandro,
we’re married, we haven’t been surgically joined at the hip!”
“An
interesting place to be joined, all the same, don’t you think so, my beautiful
bride?”
“And
you are my most beautiful groom.”
Nonna
overheard Connie’s remark, and quickly agreed with her. “You are right,
Connie. Alessandro isn’t merely handsome, he is truly beautiful—but then,
so are you.”
Connie
blushed, and for a moment Alessandro’s heart clenched. He had noticed
before that compliments were so alien to her, any pleasantry made her
blush. For a moment a dark rage rose in him against Bob-the-snob, who had
treated her so badly that she felt confused when people praised her
deservedly.
At
the same time, his conscience bothered him increasingly. He had coolly
and calmly decided that he would have to get married some time. Intending
to stop his mother’s stupid matchmaking efforts once and for all, he had
deliberately chosen this bright, intelligent and beautiful—don’t forget
beautiful—woman. He frowned. Had he given any thought to what
Connie would feel, being married to a man who considered love a delusion, and
believed only in passion and friendship? A bit late to have scruples
about pressing her into this marriage. He sighed. He decided to
make it up to her in the only way open to him—he would see to it that he made
their married life as happy as he possibly could.
He
was startled out of his pensive state by Nonna calling his name.
“Why
so lost in thought,
nipotino mio?
Surely this is a happy day for
you and Connie?”
He
nodded. “My conscience bothers me a bit—pushing her into getting married
more quickly than she probably expected…”
Nonna
disagreed. “Connie is an intelligent woman, who could and would have told
you to slow down, if she did not want to marry you just yet. But why
would you think that? She obviously loves you and wants to be with you
all the time and not just during working hours and in the evenings.”
“I
hope you’re right, Nonna, and that Connie is happy with our slightly accelerated
wedding. I just did not want her to move into that new condo that
Marcella bought on Connie’s behalf. Until now, you realize she has been
living in my penthouse, and I liked things that way.”
Nonna
patted the sofa-seat beside her, and Alessandro sat down. She reached for
his lean cheek, stroking it gently. “This isn’t a business deal,
Sandro.
This
is marriage! Do you love her?”
Dio—I
can’t tell Nonna that I don’t believe in love…
“Yes,
Nonna. I think I do.”
“You
think?” Nonna smiled. “You’ve never before been in love, have
you? Just those little
puttanas
performing their tricks for you,
briefly.” She smiled when she saw Alessandro’s lashes lift, his eyes
widen. “You thought I didn’t know? Of course I knew. It
must’ve taken you by surprise to realize that your feelings for Connie were
quite different? That is as it should be, Sandro. Now, no more
thinking, and some doing instead.”
“I’ll
do my best, Nonna.”
“One
other thing, Sandro. Tom told me you plan to have a honeymoon after your
church wedding in Italy. Of course. But this is a wedding too, my
dear grandson. Plan to take her somewhere, if only for the week-end?”
Alessandro
nodded. “I’m going to take her to an hotel on Lake Apopka. Lee told
me about it. I’m looking forward to taking Connie with me on a
jet-ski. I doubt she’s ever been on one.”
“Then
curb your natural inclination to show off, and ride around with her fairly
gently, Sandro.”
He
nodded. “I will, Nonna. I don’t want to scare her—I want her to be
happy.”
“Then
go! Tom will understand if you don’t linger at his after-dinner party.”
“Thank
you, Nonna. See you soon.”
Alessandro’s
eyes sought Connie and saw her talking to Marcella. He went over to them.
“Time we left on our honeymoon, my dear bride.”
Connie
gazed at him in surprise. “You want a honeymoon? I thought you were
planning to have one after the church wedding in Italy.”
“This
civil wedding is a wedding too, Connie, and I thought we’d go away for the
week-end.”
Marcella
enthusiastically approved his idea. “Way to go, Alessandro. I was a
bit dismayed when Connie invited Mac and me to dinner with you guys, tomorrow
evening. I’m glad to see she was mistaken and you’re planning to take her
away for a few days. See you guys when you get back. You’ll have to
come to dinner at our house.”
Alessandro
said, “Thanks, Marcella, and particularly for arranging our wedding so
quickly.”
“You
think I’d drag my feet when you want to marry my best friend? Think
again!”
Chapter 15.
It
was just 10 o’clock when Alessandro and Connie returned to the penthouse.
Connie sighed. Thinking she looked a bit pale, he asked, “Are you very
tired,
tesoro?
We can have an early night if you want.”
Connie
shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not tired. I’m a bit overcome,
though.”
“Let’s
sit down, then—would you like some water? I gave Mrs. R. the week-end
off, but I can find my way around the kitchen.”
“Let
me get it, Alessandro.”
He
shook his head. “I asked first. I’ll get us some
San Pellegrino
right now.” He was soon back with a bottle on which condensation beaded,
and two big tumblers. “Exceptional as Tom’s vintages always are, I feel
I’ve drunk enough champagne to last me a month. You?”
Connie
nodded, and poured mineral water for both of them. They tilted their
glasses toward each other and drank deeply. “That was refreshing,” she
observed.
“I
want to run this by you to see whether you like the idea,” he said. “I
was thinking that we should have just a little honeymoon to celebrate our civil
wedding? Lee Melissinos told me about a great hotel he discovered by
accident. The Akropolis Hotel—obviously it’s Greek—on Lake Apopka.
Lots of things to do—although I believe that Lee and his first wife did not
spend too much time on water sports. Have you ever been on a Wave
Runner? A Sea-Doo? They are like motor cycles you ride on the
lake. I’ve ridden one many times and love it. Would you like us to
spend a few days at the Akropolis?”
Connie
gave him a dazzling smile. “I didn’t think you’d want to go away for just
the civil wedding—but I’d love to. And I’d like to try one of those Wave
Runners, but only if I can sit behind you and hang on for dear life.”
“Then
you shall sit behind me—although you’d see more if you were in front of
me.”
Connie
shook her head. “I want to be able to hang on to you.”
He
nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” They drank some more water, and
Alessandro asked, “Would you like to sit outside for a bit? I thought it
had cooled off nicely when Jeff drove us home.”
“Sure,
caro
. That will be nice, feeling the breeze.”
They took loungers next to each other and, after some desultory chat,
Alessandro noticed that Connie had fallen asleep. He waited a while, and
when she remained asleep, he got to his feet and scooped her up in his
arms.
She
didn’t want to say she was tired in case I wanted to sit up for a while…
I’ll put her to bed, let her get a good night’s sleep. Our wedding night
will probably become a wedding morning.
He smiled
ruefully.
As if it mattered. We’ve been living together for
ages—the wedding was just a confirmation of the status quo. But I don’t
think Connie sees it like that.
When
he got to the bedroom, he did not turn on the light, thinking it might wake
her. There was enough moonlight for him to see by. He slid her