by Remy Landon
“I'm reminded every day just looking at her, Carlo.”
Gianna got up on her toes to plant a kiss first on her fiancé's cheek, then went to do the same to her brother. “You both are too sweet. Let's go have some lunch, and then we can swing over to Crescent Lumber and check out the progress on the pergola.”
“Sounds good. I'll be up in a bit.” Carlo watched his sister and Jordan walk up the weathered steps of the small deck at the edge of the property and head across the sprawling back lawn toward the house.
Turning toward the ocean, he filled his eyes with the wind-ruffled water. The sea seemed to have emotions of its own: at times, tumultuous and angry as it appeared now, teeming with choppy waves and lashing the rocky beach as it spewed clumps of seaweed onto the shore before recoiling back into itself.
It was this same type of turbulent sea the day he had scattered the ashes of his deceased wife three and a half years ago. He never would have asked her family, but he had hoped he could be alone to do this, and they had respectfully allowed it. Surry had been one of Lauren's favorite places, so he had flown here to make her part of it. He had cradled the urn, holding her for the last time, and then he had opened it...let the wind take her, and the baby who would never be. Carlo, too, had been scattered, watching the life that had been reduced to mere powder dancing on the breeze, falling into the water and floating, drifting away.
Now, with the recent knowledge that the accident may not have been his fault, the tides within him might be changing. He might be alone, but perhaps he could be at peace—quiet the rough, angry waves, and find the smoothness again.
chapter forty-four ~ Cassandra
“May Day is such a cool day for a birthday,” Teal said, leaning back against Cassandra's sofa in her sweatshirt and lounge pants with her full glass of champagne and orange juice. “I remember taking my little red wagon and delivering May baskets to all the neighbors, ringing their doorbells and running off. Plus, it means the end of April. Bitch can't make up her mind if she wants to be warm, or cold, and she rains way too much.” Teal had spent the night last night and made them both Mimosas this morning. After a breakfast of waffles and whipped cream, she was taking Cassandra for a manicure as part of her birthday gift.
“Kind of lame that my birthday fell on a Monday this year, though,” Cassandra mused, sipping at her drink.
“Doesn't matter. We're still going out, and Patrice and Kevin are coming with. It'll be a combination birthday celebration/girls and gay night. We don't need to stay late...just a few drinks. You have to be at the stable kind of early tomorrow, right?”
“I've got the noon chore, so no.”
“That works. Does, um, Carlo happen to know it's your birthday?”
“Not unless anyone told him.” Cassandra glared suspiciously at her friend.
Teal put up her hands, her eyes round with indignation. “I did no such thing. I know better, girlfriend.” Her face softened. “You seem to be doing better, huh?”
“Yep. No more nightmares, and I can finally sleep in my room again.”
“That's good. I'm sure it helps knowing that douchebag is going to be locked up for a long time. There are a lot of pricks out there, but that guy is a fucking cactus.”
Cassandra grinned, glad that her best friend could make even a serious situation light.
“Oh! I need to give you your birthday present.” Teal jumped up from the couch and padded over in her fuzzy socks to get her purse in the kitchen.
“What do you mean? You've already made me breakfast, and we're doing the mani later...”
Teal returned with a small jewelry box with a tiny pink bow on the top and held it out to Cassandra.
“Oh my God, are you proposing, Teal? Is there some flash mob waiting outside?”
“Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind. Open it.”
Smiling, Cassandra lifted the lid. It was a delicate silver necklace with a spiral pendant. “Oh, this is so unique! I love it.”
“It's symbolic...I got it online from this spiritual website. It's supposed to release stress.”
Taking the necklace out of the box, Cassandra put it on and smiled as she put her fingers over the pendant. “I can feel it working already. Thank you, BFF.”
While Teal was making breakfast, Cassandra went outside to get the mail. A bank statement, Walmart flyer and a lavender envelope—with her father's return address. She felt a tightness in her chest as she opened it. It was a birthday card with a bouquet of red and yellow tulips on the front, and there was a photo inside: six year old Cassandra on her new bike, with colorful plastic tassels coming out of the handle grips. She was beaming with pride, and her father was standing beside her, making sure she didn't tip.
Inside the card, he had written, Happy Birthday, Cass. I hope you get what you wish for. And I hope to see you soon. LOVE, Dad.
He had written “love” in capital letters. And he had remembered her birthday.
Teal turned from stirring the waffle mix as Cassandra sat down at the kitchen table. “You're out of chocolate chips. You disappoint me.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You should be. Anything interesting in the mail?”
“A card from my dad.”
Teal looked up in surprise, licking a drop of the batter from her finger. “Really? How do you feel about that?
“I guess I'm glad he remembered my birthday. He sent me a picture of the two of us.” She slid the photo out of the envelope and held it up.
“Oh, how adorbs! Look at you. All ready to take on the world.”
“I was pretty fearless, back in the day.”
“What did he say in the card? If that's not too nosy of me to ask.”
“He said he hoped to see me soon. And he hoped I got what I wished for.”
“Do you think you'll get together with him?”
Cassandra hesitated, then nodded slowly, sighing. “I think so. He's been trying since I saw him in November. I guess that has to count for something.”
“Yes, I guess it does.” Teal was looking at her closely. “Someone else has been trying hard, too.”
She sighed. “I know.”
Teal scooped up a cupful of batter and poured it into the waffle maker. “So your dad mentioned he hoped you got your birthday wish. You can give it to yourself, you know.”
“Really. And what might that be?”
“Hmm, let me think...a revelation, perhaps?”
“Teal...”
“Maybe realizing that it's time to let go—of anger, of fear, and then finding that you get something in return. Get what you want, and what you need.”
“But I don't want to need. I've gotten screwed in the past when I've needed. I want to be strong.”
Moving around to Cassandra's side of the table, Teal put her hands on her friend's shoulders. “I've got a newsflash for you, girlfriend. Love makes you needy, and dependent, and weak. You kind of have to accept that. But you can be a strong person in other ways, and be all mushy when it comes to loving someone. Take me, for example. I plan to kick ass in the courtroom, but with Garrett—I'm a complete, starry-eyed, puddle-on-the-floor pushover. And I'm okay with that, because I love him.” Her blue eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “And I'm also okay with giving people second chances, if they're proving that they deserve it. I'm talking both Carlo, and your dad.”
Cassandra was silent, letting Teal's words nestle in her mind.
“What have you seen, nugget, when you've looked into Carlo's eyes?
She took a deep breath. “Pain. And regret.”
“I saw that, too. He is sorry...sincerely sorry, from his ridiculously-perfect, tousled hair right down to his expensive shoes. I've never believed that crap about love means never having to say you're sorry. When you love someone, and you hurt them, of course you have to say it. And you have to prove it. Carlo has done both. Hasn't he?”
“Yes.”
“What else have you seen in those gorgeous eyes of his?”
> A long, shuddery sigh. “I've seen love.”
Smiling, Teal leaned back and folded her arms across her chest in satisfaction. “My work here is done. And now, back to breakfast.” She turned back toward the waffle maker, humming.
Cassandra got up from the table and went to put her arms around Teal's waist, squeezing tight. “I love you. You gave me a wonderful gift just now. Besides the stress release necklace.”
“I love you, too. Now give yourself a gift. And happy fucking birthday,” Teal said.
chapter forty-five ~ Carlo
Gianna's optimism about her wedding day had paid off, Carlo thought, as he waited at the bottom of the stairs for his sister to come down before the ceremony. Sixty-four degrees, light breeze, and sunny with only a few high, puffy clouds dotting the sky. Carlo had paid for the flights for the eighty guests, and all had been able to attend. It felt good to see everyone milling around outside on the back lawn near the large white tent, holding fluted glasses of champagne and sharing in the joy of this day.
Gianna had wanted an all-white wedding, and Estelle, who had served as wedding coordinator, delivered. The newly-built pergola was sturdy and pristine, draped with yards and yards of gracefully-flowing tulle. Large bunches of white hydrangea adorned the front of the structure and spilled from white bowls atop the pillars that flanked the aisle. Inside the billowy reception tent were round tables and chairs cloaked in heavy white fabric, each table with a large glass vase half-filled with white sand, seashells and starfish.
Everything was in place except for the bride. From the bay window, Carlo could see Jordan in his white jacket and pants laughing and talking with the officiant, looking nervous but eager. Undoubtedly, he was looking forward to the reception when he could put on a Hawaiian shirt, shorts and flip flops as Gianna had agreed to.
Straightening his tie, Carlo checked his watch. The ceremony was scheduled to start in ten minutes.
“I just checked on her. She should be down any moment. And as you would expect, she looks absolutely gorgeous. How's the big brother of the bride doing?” A smiling Estelle appeared before him in a rose-colored dress and matching pumps.
He leaned in to her and kissed her cheek. “He's a bit nervous. Feeling sad and happy at the same time. And hoping he doesn't spill anything on his white tux during the reception.”
“I'm sure you'll be fine.”
“Everything looks beautiful, Estelle. Perfect. You were amazing coordinating all of this.”
“I was more than happy to do it. Gianna is like a daughter to me. Which would make you like a son.” Her eyes were twinkling.
“I've always felt that. And never more so than during your bout with pneumonia. A mother shouldn't worry her son like that. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't do that to me again.”
“I'll do my utmost to make sure I live a long, healthy life.” Estelle looked over Carlo's shoulder and nodded toward the stairs, her austere face softening. “Here comes the bride.”
Carlo turned to see Gianna's maid of honor and two bridesmaids coming down the winding staircase, wearing short white dresses and sandals and carrying small hydrangea bouquets, their hair up in buns. They darted glances in his direction, their faces pink with excitement, and he flashed them a grin as they went out the front door.
And then came Gianna, making her way carefully down the stairs in her white strapless gown. The contrast of the fitted, embroidered bodice and the flared, tulle skirt was stunning. Her dark hair was piled into a high, elegant bun, with tiny pearls nestled among the dark tresses. She wore pendant diamond earrings (his gift to her) that swayed and sparkled as she moved, and she held a bouquet of hydrangea—white, with one pale pink bloom in the center, for their mother.
She came to him immediately, and he kissed her on both cheeks.
“Gi, you look like a princess. Absolutely breathtaking. I want to hug you, but I don't want to mess anything up.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and flung her arms around him. He hugged her gently and stepped back to look at her once more, swallowing hard before he spoke. “Mama and Scott may not be here, but I feel them just the same.”
“I do, too,” she murmured, her eyes glistening.
Estelle came closer to give Gianna a hug and then laid a hand on Carlo's arm. “I'm going to go find Martin. I'll see you after the ceremony.”
Taking his arm, Gianna looked up at him. “Ready to give me away?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
~*~*~*~*~*
After everyone had dined on salad, lobster tails, broiled scallops, red potatoes and blueberry wedding cake, the reception was in full swing. Once the customary wedding dances were over, guests began dancing to the country rock band that Jordan had hired. Carlo visited with his distant relatives and then felt the need to take a break from the crowd. Gianna was dancing shoeless with the rest of the bridal party, all of them laughing and enjoying the music. She wouldn't mind if he stepped out for a while. He removed his tuxedo jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Estelle gave him a knowing glance as he slipped out of the tent.
Walking down toward the ocean in the deepening twilight, he felt a sense of calm. There was no sound except for the gentle lapping of the waves against the rocky shore. The sea was calm today, too, the sun glittering on its surface in hues of pink and gold. As he came closer, he could see pockets of frothy water collecting in the small dips and valleys of the ledge, waiting to be brought back into the ocean when the tide came in.
He loosened and removed his tie, folding it neatly and sliding it into his pants pocket as he watched the smooth beauty of the sea and felt, inexplicably, peace.
“Sorry I'm late.”
A voice behind him, small and anxious. He turned.
She was standing in a pale green halter dress, light and flowing at her knees. Part of her hair was clipped back away from her face, the rest of it cascading past her bare shoulders. The fading sunlight glinting off her pendant necklace, her bracelet and the small silver clutch in her hands gave her the illusion of sparkling.
Carlo opened his mouth to speak, but for one of the few times in his life, found himself with absolutely no idea of what to say.
Cassandra took a hesitant step forward in her high-heeled silver sandals, wobbling a bit in the wet, gray sand.
“I had planned to get here in time for the ceremony, but my flight was delayed.” She came closer. A sudden breeze swept her hair off her shoulders.
She looked achingly beautiful, and his heart clenched with the sight of her. Words continued to elude him. Cassandra...here, in Maine. How...and more importantly, why?
“You have an amazing secretary,” she said softly. “She called me a few days ago, telling me there was no pressure, but asking if I wanted to come to Gianna's wedding to surprise you. She said you'd be here for a few days afterwards, and we could talk. Estelle set up everything—my flight, the taxi from the Trenton airport...I wanted to pay for it, but she said you wouldn't allow it, and that you were paying for transportation for the other guests. I hope that's okay.” She gave a small, sheepish smile.
Nodding, Carlo found his voice. “Estelle is always right. And I am going to be forever in her debt for getting you here.”
Cassandra's face turned more serious. “I decided that we needed to talk. Really talk, so we can both move forward. So here I am.” She turned back toward the tent. There were the sounds of lively music, faint laughter...the sounds of people celebrating the beginning of a couple's new life together.
“Should you get back to the reception, and we can talk afterwards?”
He shook his head. “I'd rather not wait a second longer, Cassandra. Having you here in front of me, and wondering—it's killing me. I want to hear what you have to say.”
“All right,” she murmured. “We'll talk now.”
chapter forty-six ~ Cassandra
Carlo led her to what he said was his favorite place on the property: a secluded spot with a grassy slope sheltered by a sta
nd of pine trees and a silver maple, which included a gorgeous view of Cadillac Mountain across the water.
Setting her clutch down on the ground, Cassandra pulled her dress underneath her as she sat down carefully and unbuckled her sandals, sliding them off and stretching out her legs in the cool grass. Carlo sat down a respectful distance away from her on a flat piece of ledge, looking like an Italian model at a seaside photo shoot. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a V of tanned skin, and he had rolled the sleeves halfway up his arms. He had also removed his shoes, and was leaning back on his hands, his legs bent in crisp white pants.
She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “I'm remembering the first time I saw you, you were wearing white. I hope the tuxedo company is very forgiving.”
“I'm not in the least concerned.” Carlo's face looked somber, his lips unsmiling below the faint stubble of his mustache. He was looking at her intently, his eyes hooded by his dark eyebrows.
“So I know this has taken time—for me to think everything through, and I'm sorry for that. I know I've kept us both in limbo.”
“Absolutely no apologies necessary, Cassandra.”
“It wasn't just about what you did—the game, and the video.” She shuddered voluntarily, and she saw his face tighten.
“I can't tell you how sorry I am, for all of that.”
“I know. I believe you. I believe you, not just because you've said it, but because you've also shown me, which is the most important thing. But it wasn't just that, although it obviously was a major factor.” She drew her knees to her chest and tugged her dress over them. She was shivering now, both from the cold and the intensity of this moment. “I questioned being with you because you made me feel weak when I was with you—sometimes, even when I wasn't. And I worried that it was a flaw in me. But I was wrong.”
Carlo's gaze didn't waver. He remained absolutely still, looking like a marble statue on the ledge.
“When I found out about the accident—that you had another wife, another life, and that you were expecting a child—I had to think about that, too, and how much that's affected you, the pain it caused. But that's in the past. That part of your life is gone now, and I'm so very sorry, Carlo. But you are still here, and I am, too.”