Once Upon a Moonlight Night (The Bella Novella Collection Book 1)

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Once Upon a Moonlight Night (The Bella Novella Collection Book 1) Page 13

by Janice Thompson


  “Don’t stop on my account,” I said. “I was enjoying it. Immensely.”

  And so, they continued until the song ended. I clapped with vigor and they all took a deep bow, Jolene nearly losing the large bow in her hair as she bent forward. She managed to catch it before it fell.

  “Well, I’d say it’s been an eventful day.” Bonnie Sue eased her ample frame into the pew beside me and it gave a creak beneath us.

  “Has it ever.” I yawned. “Weirdest wedding day ever.”

  “But one of the most beautiful,” Twila added with a smile. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Definitely. Just such a strange thing—a snowstorm in Galveston? Who could’ve predicted that?”

  “For sure, it wasn’t in our control,” Twila said. “But remember Bella, we can trust God, even in the storms in life. We can’t stop ‘em. But here’s the secret. When the winds are howlin’ and—”

  “The hound dog’s baying at the moon,” Bonnie Sue chimed in, her fake eyelashes fluttering with abandon.

  Twila rolled her eyes. “The point is, when things are out of your control, you’ve got to remember that Jesus is in the boat with you.”

  “We’re in a boat?” Bonnie Sue leaned my way to whisper. “This story has a boat?”

  “The one in the Bible does,” I reminded her. “Jesus in the boat with the disciples.”

  “Big storm blew up.” Twila used her hands in dramatic fashion. “Everyone panicked. But Jesus. He was sound asleep down below, cool as a kitten, snoring like he didn’t have a care in the world. And he didn’t. He knew they would be just fine.”

  Bonnie Sue’s eyes misted over. “I get it, ladies. When my Sal passed, I wanted to stay down in the hull of the boat. I was a wreck. And it didn’t feel like the storm would ever stop. I could hear those winds howlin’ and the waves were rockin’ me around. What a disaster.”

  “A lot of things happen that are out of our control, but we can trust God.” Twila stood and started sweeping again. “And there’s no better season to be reminded of that. It’s Christmas, you know. The season of hope. Trust.” She began to sing a familiar Christmas carol as she worked.

  Bonnie Sue slipped her arm over my shoulder. “Draw close to those you love this Christmas, Bella. Make sure you tell ‘em that you love them.”

  “I. . .I will.”

  “And stick as close to D.J. as you possibly can,” she added. “You won’t get these moments back.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Anyone can weather a storm, as long as they stick close to God and close to the people He’s put in their lives.”

  Bonnie Sue’s words stuck with me as I left the chapel in search of my sweetheart. I hadn’t really thought about the recent weeks as stormy, per se, but they had been rocky. Filled with ups and downs. Like a boat rocking on the water. And yes, there had been moments when I wanted to stick my head under the covers and wish the hard things away. Just snuggle up with my babies and ignore the rest. Perhaps now I could do just that.

  I found D.J. shutting down the soundboard in the reception hall. He took one look at my tired self and sighed. “You gonna make it?”

  “I think I’ll weather the storm.”

  “Well, good. It’s been a great night, Bella. You did a fantastic job.” He gave me a little wink and my heart fluttered. The guy still got to me, even after all these years.

  “Thank you.” I paused and gazed at my handsome husband as he worked. When he finished, I extended my hand. “Come out to the gazebo with me? There’s a special surprise.”

  “Surprise?” His eyebrows arched. “I get nervous whenever you talk about surprises at Club Wed. You’re not coordinating another wedding tonight, are you?”

  I chuckled. “No, no. Nothing like that, I promise.”

  “That’s good. I’d like to have you to myself for a while.”

  “Remember that guy from the planetarium who was going to loan Justine his telescope for her big day so that everyone could star-gaze?”

  “Right. I remember.”

  “He came by yesterday and set it up in the gazebo. Of course, he had no idea we’d be facing a snow storm, but I thought you might like to see it.”

  I gave him my hand and he led the way outside to the gazebo. The twinkling white lights drew us in. I gave a little shiver and he pulled off his suit jacket and slipped it over my shoulders. “There you go, Bella-Bambina. . .to protect you from the cold.”

  He’d protected me from the cold, all right. For years, now. And I appreciated it more than I could ever convey.

  As we stepped into the gazebo, D.J. gasped. “Wow, you said it was a telescope, but I didn’t picture anything this huge.”

  “Right? It’s amazing. And such a shame that Justine and her guests never got to use it. Such dreary skies.”

  We stood in silence for a couple of delicious moments and D.J. wrapped me in a warm embrace. After a while, he startled.

  “Bella, look!” He pointed upward to the east and I gasped as I saw the clouds had cleared in one small spot, revealing a gorgeous full moon.

  “Oh, D.J.” I stared upward, the golden globe completely captivating me. “It’s breathtaking. And look at the stars.” I pointed to the right of the moon as a multiplicity of twinkling stars came into view. “Justine was right. It is a starry night.”

  “Too bad she didn’t get to see it for herself.”

  I chuckled. “That girl has stars in her eyes. I’m pretty sure she’s seeing it now, as they drive back to Houston. Oh, but think about it, D.J. Those same stars, that same moon. . .they’ve been there all night long. We just couldn’t see them. They were hidden by the clouds.”

  “Yep. That’s how life is.” We stood in quiet solitude, gazing upward. My heart swelled with joy as D.J. began to quote one of my favorite verses: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor. How majestic is your name in all the earth.”

  In that moment—that holy, peaceful moment—I felt closer to D.J. than ever before. Something about stargazing with him, especially on a night like tonight, with the promise of Christmas fresh in our hearts, gave me a new perspective. There would be plenty of storms to come. No doubt about it. But they didn’t matter one little bit.

  I extended my hand and said, “Could I have this dance, kind sir?”

  “Dance?” He looked around, as if expecting someone to cue the music.

  “Yep, let’s dance in the moonlight, D.J.. Isn’t that what all of the old married people do on nights like this?”

  He swept me into his arms and leaned close, his breath warm on my cheek. “I’m clueless about what the other old married people do, but I’m always happy to dance with my wife.”

  We spent the next few minutes in a lovely dance. . .until I felt D.J. trembling from the cold.

  “We should get inside,” I said. I pulled off the jacket and handed it back to him. He slung it over his arm.

  “Mm-hmm.” He gave me a tender kiss. “Because I have an early Christmas present for you.”

  “Oh?” My heart skipped a beat. Only six days till Christmas and I still had so much shopping to do. How had he managed to arrange a gift for me so soon?

  “Yep.” He shivered again and took hold of my hand and led the way down the path toward the building. “I’ve been working on it for ages now. Rosa and Laz helped.”

  “Rosa and Laz? But they were in. . .”

  “Italy. I know. On a getaway.”

  I stopped at the door of the reception hall and he opened it. Only, D.J. didn’t step inside. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he gazed intensely into my eyes and said, “Every couple needs a getaway.”

  “Right.” Only, he wasn’t talking about Rosa and Laz anymore, was he? “D.J.? What aren’t you saying?”

  He reached inside the coat pocket and came out with a brochure. “
Just a little something to look at in the moonlight.”

  I strained to make it out. “What is this?”

  “Want to go inside where you can see for yourself?”

  “Sure.” I slipped my left hand through the crook in his arm and we stepped inside together. I found Rosa and Mama talking. Pop and Laz hovered around a platter of leftovers, nibbling.

  As we entered the room, Rosa glanced my way, the edges of her lips curling up in a smile. I could tell from the expression on her face as she made eye contact with D.J. that she must be keeping some sort of secret. What were they up to?

  I glanced down at the brochure, finally able to read it. “Mediterranean. . .what?”

  “A cruise, Bella.” D.J. pointed at the luxurious ship featured on the front of the brochure. “It’s a fifteen-day Mediterranean cruise.”

  “A-are you serious?” I almost dropped the brochure as excitement took hold.

  “Yep. We leave the day after Christmas and come back on January 10th. We fly from Houston to JFK, then set sail out of Athens, headed to Santorini. He pointed to the brochure. Then one more stop in Greece before we hit the ports in Italy. After Italy, we head to Spain.”

  “I. . .I. . .I. . .” I had to sit down. D.J. brought me a chair. “How can we manage this, D.J.? The kids? Who will. . .what will. . .when will . .?”

  “Don’t fret, Bella-Bambina,” my father said. “Your mama might not be so good with the cooking but she’s great with the kids.”

  Mama rolled her eyes. “And Sophia will help.”

  “And me.” Rosa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Laz and I will do whatever we can to help, Bella. We want you and D.J. to have the time of your lives on this Mediterranean adventure.”

  “But I have a wedding on the second Saturday in January,” I argued.

  “A small one. Simple. I’ve looked at your calendar.” D.J. gave me a knowing look. “Sophia can handle it with the help of your family. Most of your big weddings are in February.”

  “True.” Still. . .the Mediterranean?

  I could hardly believe my ears. Leave it to D.J. to surprise me with the cruise of a lifetime. He’d managed to turn this stormy day into a bright and sunny one.

  Yep. I had to conclude, this fella still had it. And once we boarded that cruise ship I’d spend every waking moment letting him know just how grateful I was.

  He pulled me close and planted half-a-dozen kisses on my cheek, then his lips met mine for a kiss that made my knees buckle. Oh, for a thousand starry nights just like this! Soon. . .very soon. . .we would dance beneath a moonlight night on the Mediterranean Sea. Until then, this crazy Italian girl and her east Texas cowboy would go right on living the most charmed life any two people could ever imagine.

  Did you enjoy Once Upon a Moonlight Night?

  If so, enjoy these sample chapters from book two, Tea for Two

  Tea for Two

  CHAPTER ONE

  Love Will Keep Us Together

  It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first.

  Ronald Reagan

  There are some holidays that just put a smile on your face. Take Valentine’s Day, for instance. I was always a fan, even before I met my sweetie, D.J. The dreamer in me always believed in Cupid’s arrows and happily ever afters. Of course, the truest “forever” love stories didn’t always start in such a fanciful way. But Valentine’s Day awakens the dreamer in me. Blame it on being in the wedding business.

  People always fought to get their weddings scheduled at Club Wed on Valentine’s Day weekend. Sometimes we would host up to four weddings over one weekend. This year we only had two: a smallish Saturday, the 13th event for a couple in their golden years and the big one—a full-out Valentine’s Day tea party themed soiree on Sunday afternoon. On that day Victoria Felicity Brierley—of the Houston Brierley’s—was scheduled to marry longtime Texas senator, Beaurgard—aka “Beau”—DeVine, of the Dallas-area DeVines. To complicate matters, the bride’s family insisted she keep all of her names. On the day she married, she would become Mrs. Victoria Felicity Brierley-DeVine. Quite a mouthful, especially for a woman with a husband in politics. No doubt the talking heads would have a doozie of a time with this one.

  None of that mattered to me, however. I simply wanted to comply with the bride’s wishes to have the day of her dreams. And that’s exactly what I planned to give her—a Victorian tea party, with all of the frills one would expect at such an event. I had to wonder if Beauregard would balk at the idea of a tea party theme, but it turned out the kindly fellow was an ultra-conservative with true tea-party leanings. He planned to use the theme to his political advantage. He didn’t seem to mind the wedding’s theme, even after the bride explained that he would have to wear a turn-of-the-century suit and sip hot tea from a porcelain cup with flowers painted on it. Turned out, Mr. DeVine simply wanted to make the future Mrs. DeVine happy, and for that, I had to give him props.

  Planning for a Valentine’s celebration was nothing new. I’d hosted tons of weddings, after all. But, in all my years of putting together themed weddings, I’d never hosted one that involved Victorian gowns, porcelain teapots, hundreds of teacups and lace tablecloths.

  On the morning of January 11th, a text came through on my phone. A picture. Wowza. I’d seen a lot of wedding gowns in my day, but this one looked like it came straight off of the Titanic. I could almost envision Jack and Rose strolling across the first class deck now, arm in arm. Talk about all things vintage and lace. I’d never seen so much of it, in fact. Seconds later, my phone rang. I smiled when I saw the bride’s name on the screen.

  “Victoria?”

  “Yes, Bella.” She let out a little giggle. “It’s me.”

  “Great gown, girl! Wow. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Thanks. Just picked it up from the alterations lady. I’m in love. I thought I’d send you the picture so you’d have a better idea about the theme of the wedding.”

  Another giggle rose up from her end. “Hey, how was your cruise?”

  “Our cruise?” I spoke the words and sighed. “D.J. and I had the best time ever. I missed the kids, of course, but we video-chatted nearly every day. Mama and Rosa saw to that.”

  “You saw the Eiffel tower?”

  “We saw everything from Santorini to Spain. But not the Eiffel tower. That’s in Paris. We didn’t make it that far.”

  “Oh, right.” She laughed. “Silly me. I’m so distracted, Bella. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t . . .” She paused. “What was I saying? Oh yes, I can’t remember what I was saying. Or doing. Is this normal?”

  “Four and a half weeks before your wedding day? I’d say.”

  “Well, good, because I was starting to feel like an anomaly. I’m not the typical bride, I know. I mean, how many of your brides travel in political circles?”

  “Not many, I have to confess. You’re my first, in fact. And just for the record, I’m still jet-lagged, so I’m pretty out of it, too. We just got back yesterday. Haven’t caught up to Galveston time yet. And my body still thinks we’re on the ship, so everything’s wobbly.”

  “Oh, sorry. You okay to talk or should I call back later?”

  “Totally fine.” I did my best to stifle the yawn that tried to sneak out. “What’s up?”

  “Well, here’s the deal. Beau-Beau is running for President, as you know.”

  “Wait. . .” I paused, thinking I’d heard incorrectly. “President of the United States?”

  “Well, of course, silly. You didn’t think I meant President of his fraternity, did you? Anyway, he’s running for President and he’s gaining momentum.”

  “When did this happen?” I scratched my heard, completely discombobulated by this news. “I mean, I know he’s a senator and all, but. . .President? Like, President, President?”

  “Where have you been, Bella? Didn’t you watch the last debate? Beauregard is doing very well with conservative
voters. He’s got quite a fan base.”

  “Debate?” I hardly found time to watch my favorite TV shows, let alone political debates. And everyone in town knew the Rossis kept their political beliefs to themselves. Well, all but Rosa, who let her passion for Jimmy Carter slip during a recent episode of The Italian Kitchen.

  “Right.” She giggled. “Anyway, Beau is soaring upward in the polls. I don’t want to alarm you, Bella, but this means the wedding will require top-notch security. Have you ever had the Secret Service at one of your ceremonies?”

  “Secret Service? The guys in black suits and sunglasses? No. We’ve never had Secret Service at one of our weddings. When Brock Benson came we had body guards, but they didn’t wear sunglasses.”

  “Then this will be a first. And I can’t believe you got to meet Brock Benson in person.” She let out a little squeal. “Lucky you!”

  “We’re good friends. You know, they filmed several episodes of his show on the island, right? But let’s go back to talking about your wedding. You’re saying it’s going to be high-level security because Beau is running for. . .President?”

  “Yes, and we’ll have to work our schedule carefully. There are a couple more debates between now and the wedding day. In fact, there’s one on the night of the 13th of February.”

  “February 13th?” The night before her wedding? Really?

  “Are you saying we’ll have to reschedule the rehearsal?” I asked. “Because that weekend is going to be pretty crazy already. We got a small wedding on Saturday, the 13th. I can’t change that.”

  “No, no. Wouldn’t matter if we moved the rehearsal to another date. . .he still wouldn’t be there. Things are going to be crazy that week.”

  I wanted to ask the obvious: Do you think you guys should just wait until after the election? But I didn’t want to get into her business. Not that she let me get a word in edgewise.

  “The thing is, Bella, I’m going to be really, really busy. We’ve got the campaign trail, debates, the Iowa Caucus, and then the New Hampshire primary. And Beau’s got to be on-point every step of the way, which means—“

 

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