She felt as though she was floating out in some other dimension as she watched Nick slide a ring onto the third finger of her left hand, and had just enough presence of mind remaining to feel grateful that the ring was both discreet and gorgeous – a platinum band encrusted with diamonds that framed the exquisite, square cut solitaire. It was, in fact, the perfect size and shape for her long, slender fingers, and to ask to look at anything else would have only been out of spite on her part.
“Nick.” Her voice was hoarse, and she squeezed his hand for support. “You - God, Nick. You don’t have to do this. Marry me, that is. I know how you feel about marriage, how you’ve always sworn it wasn’t for you. And just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean you have to feel obligated to go that far.”
He snorted. “Who says I feel obligated? Angel, you know me well enough by now to realize that no one makes me do something I don’t want to do - even you, the only woman I’ve ever been in love with. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, especially with you, and it’s time for me to do the right thing for once. And forget all that bullshit about making an honest woman out of you or doing this out of obligation. This is just the right thing to do. Period. For you, for me, for our kid. For the family we’re going to be. Okay?”
Tears were trickling down her cheeks, and she could only nod in agreement. “Okay.”
Nick chuckled and enfolded her in his arms. “For maybe the first time since we got back together, you aren’t being a pain in the ass about doing what I say. If this is what it takes to render you speechless, I should have asked you to marry me months ago.”
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. “Uh, uh. It wouldn’t have been the right time. And I probably would have said no.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “Yeah, most likely. But like it or not, Angel, you’re going to have to do a lot of things I tell you from now on. Like eating more. And getting a lot of rest. And you’d better put those goddamn running shoes of yours away for a few months, because if you think I’m letting you compete in some insane trail race while you’re pregnant, then guess again.”
Angela laughed. “No trail races, I promise. But lots of pregnant women still do some running. We’ll ask Doctor Kimball, okay? And I promise to follow whatever advice she gives.”
“We’ll see,” grumbled Nick. “That OB/GYN of yours is kind of a smart-ass. I’m not sure I like her attitude.”
She rolled her eyes. “Funny. I was just going to say she probably has the same opinion about you.”
“Whatever. Look, let me round up Milo and pay for this ring, and then we’ll go out to dinner to celebrate. And,” he warned, waggling a finger, “you will eat. A lot. But alcohol is out until after the baby is born. Unless you decide to breastfeed, that is, because I understand that booze isn’t good for the kid, which means you’ll need to stay on the wagon that much longer.”
“Fine.” Angela sighed, then grinned at him mischievously. “Hey, at least with me being pregnant I’m sure to gain those last fifteen pounds you keep insisting I need to put on.”
Nick arched a brow. “Fifteen? That’s just for starters, Angel. You’ve got to put on a minimum of thirty. Oh, and one other thing.”
She shook her head. “Why do I have the feeling this is going to be a very long pregnancy with you calling all the shots? What’s the other thing?”
He scowled darkly. “I will tell you right here and now, Angel, that there is no fucking way we are calling this kid some sissy name like Giovanni. Or Donatella.”
Angela caressed his cheek tenderly. “Agreed,” she replied, laughing softly. “But we’ve got lots of time to think about baby names.”
“You’re right. Especially since we need to figure out how to break the news to your parents first. It ought to make for a hell of a Thanksgiving.”
Predictably, even though Angela had requested that only her mother and father be present when she and Nick arrived, both of her sisters and brothers-in-law and at least a couple of their kids were assembled in the living room of her parents’ house in Carmel when they walked inside. Nick merely shrugged as Angela fumed, murmuring under his breath that they might as well get this out of the way all at once.
All Angela had told her parents last evening was that she and Nick had some news to share with them upon their arrival the next afternoon. It was Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, a holiday that she somewhat reluctantly had agreed to spend with her family. The older of her two sisters - Marisa - was cooking dinner at her home again this year, though everyone knew that their mother Rita would really be the one in charge of the meal - just like she had always attempted to control everything that went on in the family.
‘Thank God,’ thought Angela as she and Nick joined the others in the living room, ‘that we always insist on getting a hotel room whenever we come down here for a visit. And especially this time, when the sparks are sure to fly.’
She could almost predict how her mother was going to react to the dual shocks that were about to be delivered - a wedding in January, and a new grandchild next June - two life experiences no one in her family had ever expected Angela to actually have. Thankfully, she and Nick had briefly discussed the matter last night while packing for this short trip, and were in total agreement on how they wanted things to unfold.
And Nick, bless him, had volunteered to be the one to actually make the announcements, though they had hoped Angela’s parents would get to hear the news before anyone else. It figured, though, thought Angela derisively, that Rita would ignore her wishes so blatantly.
‘Story of my life,’ she told herself as she took a seat. ‘Literally and figuratively.’
Both of her brothers-in-law always gushed over Nick, in awe of his celebrity-like status as a retired NFL player, and wasted no time in asking his opinion about who was going to win the next Super Bowl.
Nick shrugged. “I haven’t watched many games this season, to be honest. But from what I have seen Arizona is looking pretty good, and of course you can never count out New England. I wouldn’t place a bet on any team right now, though.”
Angela still didn’t know how or where he found the patience to deal with all of her fawning male relatives during holidays and other family events they attended occasionally. She knew he did it for her, to try and smooth things over with the family she’d always had a contentious relationship with. She was alternately dreading and gleefully anticipating exactly how he planned to deliver the twin bombshells to everyone.
“Hey, enough about football, okay?” chided Nick. “Angela and I have something to tell all of you. Something important. Though I would have preferred to speak privately with Gino and Rita about it first.”
Marisa glanced at her younger sister Deanna guiltily before telling Nick in a simpering voice, “I had no idea the two of you were going to be here tonight, Nick. We just stopped by to pick up the pies my mother baked for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.”
“And Marco and I were just picking up the kids,” Deanna chimed in. “My parents were watching them for a couple of hours while we ran some errands.”
Nick looked neither convinced nor pacified by their hurried explanations. “Well, guess it’s a moot point now, huh? So this is our news. Angela is having a baby, due around the first of June, we’re not exactly sure yet. And we’re getting married right after the holidays. January fourteenth, to be exact. And we’ve already started on the arrangements. The ceremony will be at three o’clock at the Swedenborgian Church in San Francisco, and the reception at the Gregson Hotel on Nob Hill. Small wedding, fewer than a hundred people, and Angela and I want to keep it simple. Actually, she wanted to elope but I talked her out of that idea, reminded her that Gino would have been devastated if he couldn’t walk her down the aisle. That’s all.”
Angela had never been so tempted to burst into hysterical laughter as she was at this particular moment. She wasn’t sure whose facial ex
pression among those gathered in the living room was more comical - Nick, who looked like he needed a good stiff drink after all that; her father, who was grinning like a madman; her sisters, who had both turned white as a ghost; or her mother, whose mouth was hanging open in shock.
Her father Gino recovered first, hurrying over to envelop her in a fierce hug, his lips brushing her cheek. His voice was trembling just a little as he murmured in her ear, “I’m so happy for you, my little Angie. You’ve got a good man there, and he’ll make sure you and your baby are taken care of.”
Gino turned to Nick next, clapping him on the back before shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I would tell you to look after my little girl, to make her happy, but you’ve been doing a pretty good job of that for over a year now. I’m prouder than I can say to call you my son-in-law, Nick, and happy to officially welcome you to the family. And you’re right - I would have been pretty ticked off if the two of you had eloped, so thank you for talking my Angie out of that crazy idea. Giving her away is something I’ve looked forward to for a long time.”
Rita’s reaction, however, was nowhere near as positive. She scowled darkly, first at Angela, then at Nick. “She’s pregnant and you’re still going to have a big wedding? And get married in a church? Don’t you two have any sense at all? Next thing you know Angela will tell us that she’s actually going to wear a white dress to be married in. Vergognoso!”
Gino waggled a finger in his wife’s face. “Enough, Rita. Nothing about this is shameful. It’s a happy day for our family, for our daughter, and I’m not going to let you spoil this for her.”
“Gino’s right,” retorted Nick. “Angela can wear whatever damn color dress she wants to be married in. I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s white or pink or black for that matter. And I already told you we want to keep this small and simple, less than a hundred people. That’s not exactly a big wedding by my calculations.”
Rita sniffed, but backed down quickly when she realized she was outnumbered. “Between our family and close friends, that’s well over a hundred people already,” she declared, changing tactics. “And that’s before we add in neighbors, Nick’s family, and your friends. That’s at least two hundred people, more like two fifty. There’s no way you can plan a wedding that big in less than two months.”
Nick shook his head. “That date is set, and you’ll just need to accept it. And the guest list is going to be restricted to immediate family and a few friends and business associates. Angela and I don’t want a big lavish wedding.”
Rita was about to argue the matter further, until she saw the steely look in Nick’s eyes. “Well, all for the better, I suppose,” she sniped. “The fewer people the better, in fact. That way none of our friends have to see Angela waddle down the aisle with a big belly, and realize she had to get married.”
Nick slammed his fist down on a side table, causing precious figurines and other collectibles to rattle precariously. “That’s enough, Rita,” he hissed. “You need to realize that this isn’t about you, or your petty judgmental friends, or your gossipy family. This is strictly about Angela and me and our baby. As far as her waddling down the aisle, she’ll only be about four months along by then and barely showing, especially since she’s so tall and slim. And don’t you dare ever imply that we had to get married. We might not have planned this pregnancy, but both of us are happy about it and want to do the right thing for our child. Just like you should want to do the right thing for your own daughter.”
Rita was visibly shaken by Nick’s outburst, and looked like she was going to start crying. Impulsively, Angela turned to her mother - the woman she’d been at odds with for so much of her life - and held open her arms.
“I know it’s not ideal circumstances, Mom,” she told her quietly, “but can’t you be happy for me anyway? Please?”
Rita stared at her youngest child for long seconds before embracing her fiercely, even giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking an errant lock of raven hair behind her ear. “Of course I can,” she whispered. “And I am happy, Angela. It - well, this is all such a shock.”
Angela nodded, smiling at her mother uncertainly. “For us, too. Nick is right. We definitely didn’t plan this, but we’re gradually getting used to the idea. And I hope you can come up to San Francisco one day next week to help me look for a wedding gown. I’m going to have to buy something off the rack since there’s no time to get a custom dress made, but Julia’s given me some ideas on that. You know what a fashionista she’s always been.”
Rita nodded. “Of course I’ll go with you. I’d be honored.”
“What about us?” whined Marisa. “Aren’t we being invited along?”
“And of course we’re going to be your bridesmaids,” piped up Deanna. “You have to have your sisters in the wedding party.”
Angela regarded her two much older sisters in disbelief. “You two aren’t serious, are you? As I recall, Marisa, you refused to let me go along with you and Mom and your eight bridesmaids to try on wedding gowns because there wouldn’t be enough room. And neither of you would agree to have me in your weddings because I was too old to be the flower girl and too young to be a bridesmaid.”
Marisa’s cheeks reddened. “Well, there wasn’t enough room at the bridal salon,” she replied defensively. “And you were just a little kid, what did you care about any of that stuff? As for the other, I let you hand out the favors at my wedding, while Deanna put you in charge of the guest book at hers.”
Angela gave her sisters a not-so-nice smile. “Hey, that’s a great idea! You can both have the same jobs at my wedding. As for bridesmaids, I’m having a grand total of one, and that’s going to be Lauren. End of discussion.”
Nick draped his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll discuss some more details at Thanksgiving tomorrow. Right now, we need to go check into our hotel, and Angela needs to take a nap. She’s had a rough go of it so far with the pregnancy, so it’s important that she gets plenty of rest. And,” he added in warning tone, “it’s even more important that she isn’t stressed out. So I’m telling all of you now to lay off of her, okay? We’re doing this wedding our way. Don’t make me regret talking her out of eloping.”
He hustled her out of her parents’ house less than five minutes later, bundling her into the car and taking off before her mother or one of her sisters could start discussing bridal showers or bachelorette parties or gift registries. Angela was drooping with exhaustion by then, worn out by the early stages of her pregnancy, but mostly from the stress of being around her difficult family. But that didn’t stop her from reaching over to give Nick’s hand a grateful squeeze.
“Thank you,” she told him wearily. “I swear I don’t know how I’d deal with that bunch if you weren’t around.”
He brought her hand to his lips briefly. “It actually went better than I thought it would,” he admitted. “I knew your dad would be happy, but I figured your mother and sisters would put up more of a fuss.”
Angela grinned. “That’s because you scared them all shitless with that glare. Is that the same way you’d intimidate quarterbacks when you played football?”
Nick snorted. “Hell, no. I would just hit them as hard as I could. But I figured you wouldn’t appreciate it very much if I tried something like that on one of your sisters.”
She laughed. “If you had asked me that question when I was a teenager and hated the world, I might have told you to take them both out. Fortunately for them I’m older and wiser now. Besides, Marisa and Deanna would be way too easy of a target for you.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “As out of shape as your sisters are, I think a toddler could take them out. Thank Christ you told them no go on the bridesmaid thing. They would have looked like Cinderella’s ugly ass stepsisters walking down the aisle ahead of you.”
Angela looked pensive all of sudden. “You don’t think I’m going to look ridiculous wearing a wedding dress, do you? I mean, being pregnant and all.”
He squeezed her hand. “No,” he replied bluntly. “You’re going to look gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. Like I told your mother, you’ll be barely four months along by then, and not even showing yet. And I wouldn’t give a shit if you did, Angel. Don’t let your mother of all people make you feel ashamed, okay?”
“Okay.” She heaved a tired sigh. “Jesus, what sort of a mother can I expect to be with her as an example? As ditzy as your mom is, I think she’d be a better role model.”
Nick shuddered. “You’d be wrong. Let’s face it - neither one of us exactly had an ideal childhood. That’s why the two of us are going to do everything in our power to make sure our kid has just the opposite. And while I know we both have a helluva lot to learn about being parents, we’ve got at least one thing on our side.”
Angela’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Enough money to hire a good nanny?”
He shook his head. “Not that. Though we might need to consider hiring one when you go back to work.”
“Then what?” she asked curiously.
He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Love, Angel. Pure and simple. And a lot of it. We might end up sucking at changing diapers or knowing the best stroller to buy or shit like that. But the way you and I love each other, and the way we’re going to love this kid – well, no one else could do it better.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
One Week Before Christmas
“I got a few more RSVPs in today, Angela. We’re only waiting to hear from about ten additional guests at this point. So far, though, we haven’t received a single No response.”
Angela sighed. “I was half-afraid you’d say that. And here Nick and I were so intent on keeping the attendance to a hundred people or less. What are we up to now?”
Cara checked the spreadsheet she’d been using to track responses for next month’s wedding. “A hundred and twelve,” she replied cheerfully. “So if all of the outstanding responses come back with a Yes, that would put the total attendance at a hundred twenty two. Not counting you and Nick, of course.”
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