“You gonna tell me, or am I gonna drag it out of you?”
Jenna and Bubba held up their left hands in tandem, wiggling their ring fingers. D.J. stared, not saying a word for a moment. He finally managed a flimsy “W-what?” at which point we all laughed.
“We got married last week,” Jenna said with a giggle. “Just got back from our honeymoon cruise.”
“To Cancun,” Bubba said. “Had a great time.”
“Does Mama know about this?” The tips of D.J.’s ears turned red. Not a good sign.
“Yep.” Good old Bubba. Giving one of those one-word answers again. They went over so well.
I wasn’t sure if D.J. was going to blow like Spindletop or respond in his usual gracious manner. I watched, mesmerized, as my honey’s face contorted. I could almost read the expressions as they shifted. Disbelief. Frustration. Relief. Joy.
He ended with joy, praise the Lord. Then, being the guy I knew he was, D.J. bolted from his chair and threw his arms around Bubba, proclaiming all sorts of well wishes at the top of his lungs. Afterward he turned his attention to Jenna, who beamed from ear to ear as he gushed over her as well. At the end of it all, he looked my way.
“They beat us to the punch, Bella.”
“I know.” Shrugging, I offered up a smile. “But it’s okay. They’re going to have a real wedding ceremony in the spring after we get settled into our new place.”
D.J. took his seat, shaking his head. “Still, I can’t believe it. My baby brother is … married.” A moment’s pause, and then D.J. grinned. “Guess that just about locks it up. You’re moving to Galveston?”
“I am.”
The twinkle in D.J.’s eye let me know how he felt about that. “Then you can come to work for me.”
Bubba nodded. “Been thinking a lot about that offer you made, big brother, and I think I’m ready to take you up on it. Besides, I have a feeling I’m going to be a permanent fixture at the opera house. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve fallen in love with opera.” Bubba grinned, then turned to Jenna. “And I’ve fallen head over heels for a certain young woman here. So I think I’ll stay put, thank you very much.”
D.J. let out a whoop and rose once again, celebrating for everyone in the place to see and hear.
“How did your father take the news?” I asked, finally snagging a moment’s quiet between D.J.’s shouts of joy. After all, Bubba had worked as a mechanic at his father’s business for years. Dwayne Sr. was likely not as happy as the boys about this. What would it feel like, to have both of your boys move off and abandon the family business? Not good, I would imagine.
“Better than you know,” Bubba said with a nod. “He said my decision was an answer to prayer. He and Mom want to go into full-time ministry with the motorcycle club.”
“No way.” D.J. looked at him, clearly stunned.
“Yeah, go figure. Remember Terrell Buell?”
“From church? Sure.”
“Well, he’s been talking to Pop for years about buying the business, so I think they’ve come to some sort of understanding.” “Wait.” I shook my head, trying to sort this out. “Terrell Buell … the same Terrell Buell who is sweet on Twila?”
“Yep. Same one. He’s been working on cars for years but never really had a place to do it proper.” Bubba arched his brows. “Mama suspects he’s doing this to snag Twila. He thinks if he buys the business and gets our clientele, she’ll finally see him as responsible and marry him.”
“Well, go figure.” I had to grin at that idea. Twila Buell. I could almost see it now.
D.J. sat once again, this time ordering a round of cappuccinos for everyone at the table. “We’ve got some celebrating to do!” he exclaimed. “Neeley Brothers Construction has just officially opened its doors for business!” He dove into a lengthy conversation with Bubba about the renovations at my house, then shifted gears to talk about the home he was renovating for the two of us. All the while, I kept looking at Jenna. Her eyes never left Bubba. I’d never seen my best friend happier. Of course, she had every reason to be. She was married to the man of her dreams now.
Jenna. Married. Wow.
I pushed any and all thoughts of jealousy from my mind. Soon enough it would be my turn. In the meantime, I’d better stay focused on Rosa and Laz. After all, their big day was only forty-eight hours away!
15
Seems Like Old Times
From the time I was a little girl, I’d always loved Mama’s favorite expression: Finché c’è vita, c’è speranza. “As long as there is life, there is hope.” For the first time in my life, I truly understood those words at their core. As a result of what I was now calling the swing-band miracle, hope had infused my family, invigorating us for the task ahead.
Friday—the day before Rosa and Laz’s big day—was spent in celebration and preparation mode. I’d never seen so many people moving in so many directions at one time, nor had I heard the Italian language bantered about at such speed. The house smelled of garlic—always a good sign—and Laz had brought in a new shipment of tomatoes from the restaurant to make up for the ones he’d tossed in the backyard. Yep, things were really moving along.
Mama and I were in full-out “Let’s get this show on the road!” gear, and the Italian aunts joined it. So did Sophia, Deanna, and Rocco, who all seemed happy to help. Even Phoebe showed up to offer assistance. Only one person was noticeably absent. Francesca. Emilio explained that she was napping. I tried not to roll my eyes at that announcement, but … really. Napping? On a day like today?
By late afternoon Friday, we had completely transformed the reception hall. I’d never seen so much gold fabric in all my life. And the deep red tablecloths were just the right contrast.
I put the tiny Christmas trees in place, checking the lights on each one to make sure they worked. Off in the distance, Pop hung strands of small white Christmas lights, draping them along the upper edge of the grand ballroom. Oh, how beautiful this place was starting to look! The perfect blend of 1940s ballroom and quaint Italian Christmas.
Rosa and Laz tried to stop by to help, but we shooed them away. No point in working them to death the day before their wedding. Besides, they still had plenty of cooking to do next door. I had it on good authority—Bertina—that Rosa had already started the chicken cacciatore and Laz was hard at work on the meats and the appetizers. Bubba and Jenna were on their way to assist my aunt and uncle with the food prep, and the rest of us were left alone to tend to the decor.
While we worked, Mama played Band of Gold’s greatest hits CD to get us all in the mood. I had to chuckle when the song “Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition” came on. Reminded me of where we’d been just a couple of short days ago. Oh, what a little prayer and praise could do! I thought about Jehoshaphat and couldn’t help but smile.
Bianca and Bertina helped out by placing the little decorative boxes filled with sugar almonds at each place setting. I’d heard all about the tradition—how true Italian weddings always featured the tasty almonds to symbolize the union of bitter and sweet. Thinking of bitter reminded me of Sal. I glanced his way, watching as he helped Pop with the lights.
Suddenly, my heart was filled with compassion for the man. Sure, he’d said some pretty harsh things about Rosa—bitterness had ruled the day—but all of that was behind us now. He seemed genuinely repentant. I smiled again as I thought about how he and Laz had made up over cups of cappuccino, weeping all over each other and listening to Guido sing ten or twenty rounds of “Amazing Grace” in the background. Ironic. Looking again at the almonds, I could see so clearly how the Lord could take someone as bitter as Sal and sweeten him up. With time. And love.
As I set up the plates and chafing dishes on the buffet table, a familiar voice rang out. I turned to see my brother Armando entering the room. He let out a whistle.
“Man. Never seen the place look like this before. Very nice, Sis.”
I sprinted his way, happy to see him. “Welcome home.”
&nbs
p; “Thanks.” He looked around, noticing the aunts and Deanna. He elbowed me when he saw Rocco. “Who’s the Fabio character?”
I laughed. Rocco did look a bit like a cover model. “That’s our cousin’s boyfriend from Napoli. Just arrived a couple days ago. Maybe you’d better go say hello.”
“Okay, but …” He looked at Sal, confused. “Who’s the old guy?”
“Armando!” Now I elbowed him. “That’s Uncle Sallie.”
“W-what?” His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Impossible. Uncle Sal is a big guy. Tough. Broad shoulders. This guy is …”
“I know.”
We both paused in quiet reflection.
“Wow.” Armando’s one-word response to Sal’s condition spoke volumes.
“Better go say hello to Bianca and Bertina,” I whispered. “They’ll think you’re ignoring them. And I have it on good authority Deanna and Rocco have been dying to see you.”
“You’ve got it.”
He sprinted across the room and went into a lengthy “How do you do?” with the relatives while I stood back and observed their interaction. I was especially intrigued by Sal’s response to Armando. He patted him on the back and commented on what a big boy Armando was getting to be. I paused to think about that for a moment. Armando was a strapping, muscular sort of guy. A lot like Sal used to be … back in the day. Strange how time could transform a man. Age had softened Sal, but I had a feeling that wasn’t all bad. Gave me hope that Armando—our family prodigal—could be softened by time as well.
I shifted back into wedding-planning gear and finished up the buffet tables, then checked on the silverware and fixed a couple of the gold bows on the backs of the white chair covers. Sure, it took a lot of work to make the room look great, but it would be worth it. I glanced up to the empty stage area, now framed in gold lamé, and tried to envision it with the band spread out across it. Oh, how wonderful tomorrow night was going to be!
When we finished with the reception hall, we all stood back, and Pop let out a whistle. “Bella Bambina, I’ve seen this place done up for a hundred weddings, but never one this beautiful. You’ve outdone yourself this time.”
“Nothing but the best for Rosa and Laz.” My eyes filled with tears, and a lump rose up in my throat. I did my best to press it down but found myself unable to as I glanced at the mist of tears in Sal’s eyes.
I moved his way. “You okay, Uncle Sallie?”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded and looked around. “I’m just happy for my friend. And happy …” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Happy an old fool didn’t stand in the way of his friend’s true happiness.”
“Aw, Sal.” I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a warm hug. He smelled like Old Spice and peppermint as he hugged me back. Then Mama, Pop, and the Italian aunties joined in. Before long, we were one big, sappy circle of people, gushing over Rosa and Laz’s big day and how wonderful it was all going to be.
When we released our hold on each other, we all gazed one last time at the room. The others headed next door to get cleaned up and dressed for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, but I lingered behind to give the room a final once-over. A few seconds later, I heard Sal’s voice.
“Bella?”
I turned to him, curious that he’d lagged behind the others. Must have something on his mind. “What is it, Uncle Sallie?”
He hemmed and hawed for a minute or so before responding. “Bella, I will tell you the truth.” He raked his fingers through thinning hair. “I’ve never met a family quite like yours.”
“Oh?” I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yes.” He paused, and tears filled his eyes. “I was an old fool the other day. Almost ruined my best friend’s chance at happiness.” He shook his head. “Still not sure why I said all of that stuff about Rosa. Laz was right—she’s a beautiful woman. Don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“She’s a true beauty,” I said with a nod. “Inside and out.”
“I think I’ve just been blind. Kind of like the words in that dumb song Guido keeps singing.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I once was blind, but now I see.” He grinned. “I suppose that song was meant for me. Couldn’t see Rosa’s beauty or Laz’s happiness. And the only thing standing in the way, if you want me to be brutally honest, was my own jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” This certainly got my attention. What did Sal have to be jealous about?
“Yes.” He nodded, then eased his way down into a chair at one of the tables. “These past few months have been the hardest of my life, Bella. Whenever you go through a stroke, you lose all control. And, um, you would have to know what a control freak I am to understand why that was so hard.”
“Ah.”
He shook his head, a look of disgust passing over his wrinkled face. “And I don’t mind admitting I’ve been a stubborn old fool. Didn’t want people around me. Even sent the bird away, so I wouldn’t be reminded that life was going on without me.”
This was starting to make sense now. Sal had attempted to sabotage Laz and Rosa’s upcoming nuptials because of his own unhappiness and pain.
“The day of the stroke …” He shook his head. “Well, I don’t actually remember a lot about that day, but I know it changed me.”
“For the better, Sal,” I said, taking the seat beside him. “It softened you. Opened you up.”
“Like an old war wound.” He sighed. “And I’ll tell you what, opening up an old fool like me means there’s a lot of stuff to leak out. Not necessarily good stuff either.” He pursed his lips, and his jaw grew tight. “Bella, there’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“Don’t need to know,” I said. “But that’s another reason you need Guido’s favorite song.”
“What do you mean?” The lines in Sal’s brow intensified as he looked my way.
“Grace. We all need it. It’s the very thing God offers us when we deserve it least. That’s why it’s so … amazing.”
He huffed. “Look, I still don’t understand all of this religious jargon. I’m just here to tell you that something happened to me after having that stroke. I pushed people away, then felt lonely as a result. So when I showed up at your house, maybe I overcompensated. I said some horrible things to Laz, and I think it was because I was secretly jealous of what he had with your Aunt Rosa.” Sal paused. “What he has with your Aunt Rosa.”
“Yes, they’re a pretty special couple, no doubt about that. And I agree that they have a love much deeper than the physical. That’s what makes me know it’s going to last forever.” I flashed Sal a grin. “But who knows, Uncle Sallie. It’s possible the Lord will bring a special woman into your life too.” I offered up a wink.
Sal laughed, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “She’d have to be something special to see past this crusty old fool.”
“Not as crusty as you think,” I whispered, wrapping him in my arms. “And this gal, for one, sees you as very special.” After a moment’s pause, I added, “And just so you know, God thinks you’re pretty amazing too, Sal. You might not see it now, but he does.”
Sal’s expression tightened once again, and he shook his head. “Well, enough chitchat. I appreciate your kindness, Bella. All of you.” He glanced out the window at my house next door. “A man could get used to a family like this.”
“Yes, he could.” I gave him another wink, then rose and glanced at my watch, gasping. “Sal! It’s 5:00!”
He nodded. “Yes. Rehearsal’s in one hour, right?”
“Right. And I still have to shower and dress and make a couple of calls and track down D.J. and see how Rosa’s coming on the food and—”
“Bella.” Sal grabbed my hands and gave them a squeeze. “Slow down a minute.”
I exhaled. Loudly. “Okay.”
“You’re doing a fine job, and all of this is going to come off without a hitch.” He gave me a playful wink. “Maybe you’re the one who needs that song
, not me.”
“O-oh?”
“Yes. Sounds like you could use a little grace yourself right about now. Take a deep breath, Bella. Pace yourself. Or would that be grace yourself?”
I grinned. Leave it to a former mobster to tell a girl she needs grace.
We made our way home, and I thought about Sal’s words as I showered. Maybe I did need to “grace” myself a little. Hadn’t D.J. said as much? I tended to be a little hard on myself sometimes, after all.
But not tonight! No, tonight was all about celebrating. As I slipped on my favorite little black dress, I prepared for an evening of pure enjoyment.
By 6:00 the entire Rossi clan had gathered in the reception hall once again, this time dressed to the nines. Laz looked smashing in his suit, and Rosa looked exquisite in her black evening dress. Mama had done her makeup—I could tell by the perfectly placed eyeliner. And Sophia had obviously played a role in the updo. I’d never seen Rosa look prettier. Or happier. Why, even Sal took notice of her, whistling as he saw her. Rosa blushed, obviously not used to such flattery.
The wedding rehearsal was simple but fun. Father Michael seemed to have the best time of all, sharing a couple of funny stories and keeping everyone in line. I stood off in the distance, wondering how to balance my role as wedding planner with that of family member. Something about watching all of this go down just made me want to cry. In a good way, of course. I somehow managed to hold it together.
Father Michael walked everyone through the ceremony, but I found myself captivated by D.J., who stood at the sound booth alongside Armando. Several times he looked my way and grinned. I knew what he was thinking—in just two short months, we would stand in front of our families and share this same experience.
Two months! Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat. I’d handled weddings on short order before, but never my own. Did I really have only two months to completely pull together the details of my big day? How would I manage?
Don’t panic. Just get past this wedding first.
It Had To Be You Page 15