“I remember. He was a good father.”
“He is. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean his memory and lessons are gone.” She holds up my arm and points to my tattoo. “I know saying goodbye to this house is hard, but it’s time.”
“Why? You don’t need the money.”
“No, I don’t, but I want another family to share the joy this home has. Right there,” she points to the kitchen, “is where I cooked the meals to nourish my family. In health and heart. There,” she points to the living room, “is where you stood and walked to your father. Your first steps were out of my arms straight to his. Up there,” she points to the hallway in between mine and Bronson’s rooms, “is where he stood many nights as you two grew up, just staring at the baby pictures on the wall and wiping the tears on his cheeks. He’d come into the room after awhile and ask me when you both grew up. You were Daddy’s little girl, even when you had your doubts. He adored you.”
“I know. And I him.”
“So even though I won’t see these spaces anymore, I’ll never forget them. You’ll have that soon with Heath.”
“I have it now.”
“That you do.”
I take a look around, committing to memory my childhood, whisper a goodbye to those years and my dad. It’s never truly the last goodbye, because I draw on his knowledge daily. He shared so much more than his love for us. He taught us valuable lessons that we use everyday in life. “Papá, you’d be proud.”
“Bianca, he is proud. He’s the type of man that long after he’s gone, he’s still watching.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Bianca
Everything was smooth sailing today. Make-up flawless, hair curled, and dress survived my pulling and tugging. The ivory tulle hugs my curves and sweeps the floor as I walk. Deep breath. Everything about this day is what dreams are made of, and standing here waiting to walk down the aisle to the man who has held my heart even when I didn’t want to acknowledge it . . . one journey is ending and another one is beginning.
Getting here wasn’t an easy road. It wasn’t a path traveled lightly for the faint of heart.
Struggles.
Tears.
Pain.
Betrayal.
Anger.
All those played a part in our relationship. The most important factor of all, the one which got us here . . . was love. Callie and Bronson were right. It is that simple. Realizing it was like jumping without a parachute. I had to trust he would be there to catch me.
Trust. That didn’t come easily. It was earned, broken, and it took us starting at zero to get here. We allowed our mistakes, our belief in one another, to cleanse us. I’ve learned the hard way that perfection is all in perception. What is perfect to me, won’t always work for someone else, but I don’t have to live with his or her expectations. I live with my realizations.
Bronson offers me his arm. “Ready?”
“I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this day.”
“In a way you have. I’m proud of you. It wasn’t the traditional route, but you clawed your way here, and you deserve the happiness waiting for you.”
“Traditional is overrated.”
“Let’s get this show on the road. I’m sure your groom is restless.”
I bend down to slip my shoes on and gasp. Along the back, two pendants have been attached, and they each hold a picture of my father. The first is him holding me the day I was born. The love radiating from his protective hold and his weeping eyes are my undoing. My make-up be damned. I look to the left shoe and remember that day. It was the last picture I remember taking with him. Prom night. He was so uncomfortable with his little girl all dressed up, and the looks he shot Dakota had him trembling in his dress shoes. I can’t stifle the giggle or muffle the sobs.
“Bronson, did Callie do this?” It’s beautiful. A way for my dad to walk me down the aisle at my wedding without him being here.
“No,” he smiles at me. That one word has me rushing out the door, dragging Bronson so I can get to my future husband.
“Wait.” He pulls me back. He takes a tiny microphone out of his pocket and pins it on my dress. “This isn’t on yet.”
“That is a decision they are going to regret.” Because of the guest list and the size of the church it took to accommodate us, my mom and Heath thought microphones would be necessary for everyone to hear our vows. Dumb move.
“If they don’t, you haven’t done me proud.”
“Challenge accepted, big brother.” We fist bump and continue walking.
The doors open, and my eyes take in everything. The pews are full, associates from the family standing proud and watching me. It wasn’t a conventional family and one I rebelled against many times but they were formidable.
Strength.
Cohesion.
Faithfulness.
I look to the front and lock eyes on him. His smile blinds me, his love draws me to him, and his devotion seals my fate. It’s Heath. Since he bribed me on a date, it’s been him. I begin the trek toward my ending, the one I never thought would happen. It surpasses everything I hoped for, everything I thought possible. Against all odds, we’re here.
Bronson hands me over, and we take our positions in front of the priest. I don’t hear a word he says until it’s time for vows. “Heath has decided to go first in his devotion to Bianca.”
His hands steady, he cups my face and gently kisses me. “I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that our future wouldn’t come easy. I also knew you’d be worth it. Your eyes showed your pain, your demeanor was your armor. But your heart . . . it knows love like no other’s. I also knew I was the man to chase away the demons that haunted you, the man to mend you. Your strength was evident, your beauty emitted from your soul and wound around me, capturing me. I knew in that moment if given the chance, I’d love you and never stop.” He pauses to wipe the tears falling from my eyes. “Every day I promise to make you laugh. Make you feel love. I promise to have coffee ready for you in the morning and never give you reason to doubt my fidelity to you.” He smiles at me, wipes a few more tears, and kisses my forehead.
“And?” I ask. My voice echoes through the church, and I fix him with my best take-no-prisoners stare.
“What?” he tries to whisper, but it’s caught on the microphone. Didn’t I say this was a dumb move?
“You’re forgetting something.”
“I love you.”
“Awe, I love you, too, but that’s not it.”
He’s staring at me, shifting from one foot to the other and nothing is coming to mind.
“Airheads,” a shout calls out. Doc came . . . all the validation I needed to prove I’m his favorite.
“And Airheads. And chocolate.” He beams. He thinks he has it all covered.
“And no pumpkin sh-crap in the house. Ever.”
“No orange vegetables allowed.”
“Deal.”
“Now am I done?”
“Say you love me.”
“I did.”
“I want to hear it again.”
“Bianca Agosto, soon to be De Luca, I love you. I love your crazy antics and your smart mouth, and I look forward to all the years ahead.”
“God be with you,” my brother chimes in, but his isn’t caught on microphone.
“Mom, Bronson’s being mean.” That was caught on microphone.
“Bianca Rose, this is your wedding. Please act dignified,” she hisses from the front pew.
“You’ve always told me to be myself, now you want me to act?”
The entire congregation laughs as my mom is busy making apologies to those closest to her.
“I’m proud of you,” Bronson mouths. I wink at him.
“My turn,” I declare.
“Your turn, beautiful.”
“Heath, in a life where nothing is guaranteed, I will strive to be the wife you deserve. You make everything absolute. It’s because of you that I’m able to be the best version of my
self, one worthy of your love. You’ve been my constant, making every moment with me count, and I vow to always love you, stand beside you, support you, and make you feel the immense love you show me. I fell in love with someone who lets me rest my head on their chest just to be calmed by their heartbeat. I fell in love with someone who loves my attitude and lets me laugh, and he laughs with me. I fell in love with someone who loves to kiss me in public, never ashamed of his feelings for me. I fell in love with someone who not only accepted but embraced my flaws, yet thinks I’m perfect. I fell in love with someone, and that someone is you.” I take a deep breath and watch my reflection of love shine through his eyes. I hear the sniffles around the room, and I can’t feel an ounce of anything but elation. Overwhelming, blinding, unbridled happiness.
The priest clears his throat, “Do you, Bianca Rose Agosto, take Heath Giovanni De Luca to be your wedded husband?”
“Does the tin-man . . . kidding. But it would have been a good one. I do.”
“Tell me later . . ." Heath winks at me.
“Do you, Heath Giovanni De Luca take Bianca Rose Agosto to be your wedded wife?”
“I do.”
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
And he does.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Heath
Bianca De Luca. That girl takes me on a ride every single day. It’s a ride I gladly climb aboard and don’t hold on. I want to feel every turn, every loop, every beginning, and every ending. Our history is one that both nightmares and dreams are made of, and our future is unwritten. It’s endless, and many pages will be filled.
I wanted Lynsey to enjoy the wedding, so we got a D.J., but I did request she sing the first song. I pull my wife to me as the chords begin; ‘Angel Eyes’ by The Jeff Healey Band fills the reception hall, and I hold her as we sway to the music. Her head resting on my chest, her fingers gripping my side, and her heartbeat in sync with mine. We are the perfect harmony.
“Are you happy?”
“Does the tin-man have a sheet metal cock?”
“That’s what you were going to say in our vows wasn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“God, I love you.”
“That’s because I’m awesome.”
“And my wife.”
“Soon to be Molly’s mom.”
“No Molly. Wait, are you pregnant?”
“Nope, but I want a girl first.”
I roll my eyes, “Baby, you know we can’t determine that.”
“We can. We’re in control of our destiny.”
“Me. You. Us.”
“Molly. Chris.”
“Destino. But I saw your note that night. No Molly and Chris.”
“I’ll call them that when I want to piss you off.”
“You will confuse our children on a daily basis.”
“Eh, it’ll build character.”
“Having you as a mom will be all the character they need.”
“Hey, that’s mean.”
“No, it’s the truth. But I want to start working on the kids soon.”
“Is tonight soon enough?”
“Forever isn’t long enough. I love you.”
The song ends, and I lead her over to our friends and family. A tall man walks up and she giggles at him. “Glad you could make it.”
“And I brought a present.” He hands her a large package.
She rips it open, “I’d ask you to help, but this isn’t for both of us. Heath this is Dr. Adams.” I shake his hand and watch her tear into this thing.
One bag of Airheads. Two. Three. Four. A bag of mints. “Not funny, Doc.” She tosses those behind her. “My very own . . .” she holds up a frame of some sort. She flips it around, and inside is a diploma.
Bianca Rose Agosto
Class of 2015
School of Deflective Tactics – Head of Class
School of Smart-Ass- Valedictorian
“It looks just like yours. It has a seal and everything.”
“It does look authentic, Bianca, but I assure you this is nothing like mine.”
“Which one? Pick one of the seven, and I’ll bet they match. You ordered yours from a nicer website didn’t you?”
“Mine are real.”
“So’s mine.”
“No, yours was a gift, mine was earned.”
“There you go all pompous and literal. Go get a drink.”
Lynsey comes over, and Bianca grabs her hand. “Lyns this is Doc. Doc this is Lynsey. She may be your next patient, but only if we get this billing issue worked out. You haven’t responded to my demand letter.”
“Your claim has no merit.”
“Okay, but now I can’t put you in my book because you’re not being helpful.”
“Have you written a book?”
“No.”
“Talk to me when you do. Maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“Greedy.”
“Best of luck, Mr. De Luca. She has my number when you need it.”
“Baby, is this how all your therapy sessions went?”
“Not all.”
“Define not all.”
“Eighty percent were like that. Maybe ninety. But I made him a better therapist. He was boring me.”
“It’s a miracle he didn’t prescribe you medication.”
“He can’t. He’s a psychologist.”
“So he’s not even a real doctor?”
“He is, but I think that’s why it bothers him when I say his degrees are fake.”
“He took the bait. Rookie mistake 101.”
“He never saw it coming, baby.”
“I’m not surprised.”
The reception goes on for a few more hours before I steal my wife and begin baby-making practice. Practice makes perfect.
Epilogue
All of Us
Seven Years Later
Bronson
My life is one I worked hard for. I’ve learned not to take a moment for granted because it can all be ripped away. For each evil act I witnessed, I was blessed tenfold. Callie and I settled into marriage and family flawlessly because that’s what was always supposed to be. I didn’t exist without her.
Angelo, at eleven, is my spitting image with his aunt’s personality. God help us all. He’s shortstop on his baseball team, and we spend almost every weekend at the ball field. My mom loves it and has charmed all of the other moms. She sees my dad in him, and if he’s half the man he was, then I’m proud. While I don’t want to repeat all my father’s actions, I want to be the dad and husband he was. I have big shoes to fill, but I strive for them everyday.
I watch everyone here celebrating Callie’s thirty-second birthday. She’s as beautiful today as she was the day I married her. Our lives have changed with kids, obligations, and age, but our love is steadfast. I relish in the Saturday mornings the kids jump in our bed demanding donuts and cartoons. Life is what you make it, and I’ve made mine pretty damn perfect.
Callie
He’s still my rock. Bronson Agosto came into my life when I needed him the most. A scared little girl that he nurtured, allowed to grow, and always loved. He showed strength when I was weak, and in doing that, I was able to be strong when he was weak. I pick up our little girl, Lia, and hand her over to her dad. It’s where she was going but couldn’t get through the crowd. It’s where she always is when he’s home . . . his arms. She looks just like me but has his demeanor. Stubborn. Sure. Loving. I don’t think she will ever escape his overprotectiveness. If he thought Bianca and I were bad, he has another thing coming when his daughter and niece hit the teenage years. We waited a while to have her, and she just celebrated her third birthday.
Bianca and I were pregnant together. Our girls are two weeks apart, and chaos ensues whenever they are together. I almost feel bad for the shit we put Bronson through, but I still laugh. Let me tell you, Bianca is not a pleasant pregnant person. Nope. Pregnancy is not for her, so when she did the
shit a second time last year, I wanted to move to Timbuktu. I thought about changing my phone number but then realized she lived right next door. Eh, I begged Heath to get neutered, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said the gun is no good if it’s shooting blanks.
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