Passports and Plum Blossoms

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by Barbara Oliverio


  “Annalise? Introduce me to these nice people and let’s get them something to drink.”

  She ushered Auntie Lil, Georgiann, and Tom to the chairs on the front porch. She then directed some of the older cousins to unload luggage from the car to the guest rooms.

  Whew. Life was back to its boisterous normal.

  As I fetched iced tea from the kitchen, I heard some of the aunties whispering about Genio.

  “He’s very handsome!”

  “Who could trust a man that nice looking?”

  “Well, Lil isn’t getting any younger.”

  I shook my head and tried to ignore them as best I could.

  Returning to the porch, I heard Georgiann’s distinctive voice.

  “We just love Lilliana! And your Annalise ... well, who couldn’t love her? Just a shame about that young man.”

  Wooops.

  “Hey, Georgiann, tell Ma about the food in China. She’ll love to hear about that.”

  “Oh, yes, it was delicious.” Georgiann was off on another topic, but my mother’s eye caught mine, and I knew that the topic of “that young man” would come up later.

  After what seemed like an eternity, my young cousin Tony came running up the stairs.

  “Uncle Frankie wants Auntie Lil,” he announced breathlessly and dashed back to whatever game he was playing with the other cousins.

  “Well ... I’ve been summoned.” Auntie Lil set her tea glass down delicately, rose, and smoothed her hair. She tilted her head toward us and left for the backyard.

  “Your flowers are lovely,” Tom said, looking for a topic to discuss.

  “Thank you. I have always liked to have color in the yard. Do you have flowers in your yard at home?” Ma asked.

  We proceeded to discuss the merits of hydrangeas versus petunias that would have bored even the most ardent gardener.

  Finally, my father appeared around the corner.

  We all held our breath.

  “Nicky!” he summoned my brother.

  What in the world?

  “Yes, Pop?”

  “Call the Knights’ hall. We need to reserve it. If my sister is getting married, we have to have a nice reception.”

  I jumped up and ran to hug him.

  “Pop! You are the best.”

  “Your Auntie Lil is a smart woman. She’s found a good man. I’m happy for her. Now introduce me to these fine people.” He turned to Georgiann and Tom and sat with them, calling for a glass of tea for himself.

  I walked around to the backyard to find my aunt. She and Genio were still in the gazebo, sitting quietly. They motioned me over.

  “I’m so happy!” I kissed both of them.

  “So, are you still interested in being maid of honor?” Auntie Lil grinned.

  “You bet! How soon?”

  “As I told you, we’re not getting any younger, so as soon as we can.”

  “I’ll clear my busy calendar,” I said. I had the least busy calendar of anyone.

  “I better get back to help Ma get the food out. I think the natives are getting restless.” I turned to leave, but Genio caught my arm.

  “Thank you, Annalise.”

  “For what?”

  “For coming to China with your aunt.”

  “What? She would have come anyway!”

  “Probably. But without you, I’m not sure she would have had the courage to take a chance on me ... on us. You are really the reason we’re together.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” My face turned red.

  “You were her inspiration to be brave. Just remember that. Remember how brave you really are yourself.”

  I looked at him. He was sincere.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that!”

  I walked across the lawn. Me? Brave? Who knew?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I thought this maid of honor thing was going to be a piece of cake. Literally. I thought I was going to help Auntie Lil pick out a dress, flowers, and cake.

  I didn’t know that I was going to be the right-hand man, er, woman and have to answer every question that every single person had for the wedding. The brief period before the wedding was a whirlwind of activity—and this was for a simple wedding. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to plan a lavish wedding for a spoiled, dreamy-eyed young bride.

  Not to mention that in between planning, I had to negotiate the interview with Rory’s editor, who agreed to take some articles from me on spec. I wasn’t going to be making a lot of money from these efforts, but I had finally figured out that writing was what I loved to do. I would continue my blog, turning from travel topics to more general topics. I still had a number of followers, and the number was growing. In addition, I was signing up advertisers. Thanks to Breck, I was becoming a whiz at social media. It was incredible to think that a chance encounter with his sister on an airplane would lead to a semi-business relationship with him. I wouldn’t make a decision about moving to Manhattan until after the wedding, but since I could write my articles from anywhere, I knew I could live anywhere.

  Brave. Maybe I was brave. I remembered Genio’s words.

  The wedding day arrived, and everything went off without a hitch. Auntie Lil wore a gorgeous cream silk suit with a matching birdcage headpiece, and she looked like she’d stepped off the runway at Paris. For me, we found a swing dress in a shade called Persian that defied anyone to call it green or blue. The handy thing about having a priest in the family is that when he celebrates a wedding, he makes it even more personal. Uncle Sal—Father Sal—was joined by Father John from our trip, so that made it twice as lovely.

  When it was finally time for the reception, I thought my duties were done, but there were still a myriad of questions that I was answering throughout the afternoon. I was in the kitchen of the Knights’ hall, scouting down more cocktail sauce for the shrimp, when my cousin Tony flew through the double doors.

  “Annalise, somebody needs you!”

  “Of course they do. Tell them to get in line.”

  Tony flew back through the doors in the way only a preteen can.

  Moments later, he banged through the doors again.

  “He says it’s really important!”

  “What could it be? No swizzle sticks? Tell him I’ll be right there!” I blew my bangs out of my eyes.

  The doors slammed open again, and I yelled without turning.

  “Tony! I’ll be there—oh!”

  My gawky cousin didn’t wear Jimmy Choo cologne. I only knew one person who did.

  I swung around to find Eli Chamberlain standing quietly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “What? Here? But how did you find me?”

  “Did you think I couldn’t?”

  “Well, no. I suppose that if a wealthy tech guru wanted to track anyone down they could. But why?”

  “Why?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Surely you’re joking.”

  “No. I mean, we had a pleasant afternoon, but then you disappeared. Why would you track me down?”

  “A PLEASANT AFTERNOON?” His eyebrows met in a deep V.

  “What did you expect me to think? I didn’t hear from you. I thought I was just a diversion.”

  “A DIVERSION?”

  “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

  He moved toward me as the doors swung open again. In my reaction, I managed to squirt the cocktail sauce from my hands directly onto his shirt. He looked at me in disbelief, casting about for a towel.

  “Sis? Did you find the sauce?” an impatient Nicky asked.

  “In a minute!” I pointed him toward the hall.

  As he turned to leave, he saw Eli. He paused and pointed as if to say “Who’s this guy?” I was frozen in place. Eli looked up from attempting to clean his shirt, and Nicky caught him full-face. My brother’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened.

  “I said I’ll be out in a minute.” I shoved Nicky through
the doors.

  “My brother,” I explained.

  Eli nodded.

  “Again with splattering me with sauce?” he asked, cocking his head.

  I didn’t have a good response, so I just said the first thing that came to my mouth: “So, you were just about to explain to me how you toyed with my emotions, then dropped me like a hot potato.”

  Wow, where did that come from?

  Eli pushed the adorable flop of bangs from his forehead and breathed out patiently, “I was called away on a BUSINESS emergency, dealing with a merger.”

  Oh right, the Crispchip purchase.

  “At that point, I didn’t have CONTACT INFORMATION for you.”

  Oh. Right.

  “As soon as I could, I went to my cousin at the tour agency, who couldn’t give me your information because you didn’t book through her. Then I went to your blog, went to your contact information—which, by the way, you don’t answer—and got an answer from your tech support, who made me jump through hoops for privacy’s sake. You never answered my emails in the last day or so. Finally, I came here to your hometown, only to have to track you down at your aunt’s wedding. She, by the way, was DELIGHTED to see me.”

  My tech support? Oh. Breck. Hey, why didn’t he tell me?

  “Hold on.” I dug through my tiny maid of honor clutch bag for my phone and searched for emails. The last few days were really hectic. There, buried between the many wedding correspondence notes, were the emails from Eli. Not to mention one from Breck telling me to expect them.

  I looked up at Eli.

  “Sorry?”

  He looked at me, unbelieving.

  “Sorry? Sorry? That’s what you have to say? You are the most exasperating—”

  He took two steps and pulled me to him. Placing his hands on either side of my face, he gave me a spine-tingling kiss. I dropped my phone and purse, and reached up to twist my arms tightly around his neck. We stayed locked in that kiss for many minutes. Soon his hands moved down my sides to hold my waist and finally my hips. We were backed up against the counter in the kitchen, and I finally pushed him gently back.

  “What? You don’t like me anymore?” he whispered as he moved his hand to the nape of my neck.

  I reached up to trace his lips with my thumb and stared into the depths of his ebony eyes.

  “Oh, no, not that at all,” I whispered back, and he commenced another delicious kiss. I had to push back again.

  “It’s just that my father and my whole family are just on the other side of that wall, and I’m not sure I would want to be you if they came through the door at this moment.”

  He held me tighter as he kissed my neck.

  “What’s going on here?” Funny how my father’s voice could fill a room. We sprang apart.

  “Pop!” My eyes darted from him to Eli and back again. “This is Eli.”

  “Mm-hmm. And what is all over you, besides this Eli?” His unblinking hazel eyes bored into mine.

  I looked down at my dress. The cocktail sauce that I had found and then spilled on Eli was, um, now on me as well.

  “I was testing the cocktail sauce?”

  My father stood patiently despite my impertinent answer. Finally, Eli moved toward him to shake his hand.

  “Hello, sir. I’m Eli Chamberlain. I can appreciate your curiosity. If this were my daughter—”

  “But she’s not.” My father cut him off.

  Eli started again.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Tell me what I think. Then tell me what it is.”

  I closed my eyes. I knew that no matter how high-powered Eli Chamberlain was, he was no match for Frank Fontana.

  Or was he?

  “Annalise, can you give your father and me a minute?”

  I was wide-eyed as he ushered me through the back door.

  I paced outside, the gravel in the parking lot crunching under my feet. I knew a lot of girls my age would think this was ridiculous, but my family was my family, and whether anyone else considered it old-fashioned was not pertinent. Even Auntie Lil couldn’t escape it at her age.

  After what seemed like hours, they called me back in.

  “Annalise, it seems as if you have quite a persistent admirer. He explained to me what hoops he jumped through to find you.” My father’s tone was even, so I didn’t know where he was going with that.

  “He tells me that you might have feelings for him as well?”

  “Yes?” That was wimpy. I cleared my throat. “Yes.” That sounded better.

  “I like him. He’s solid.” My father’s tone was certain.

  Whew.

  “Get yourselves cleaned up and come join the party. You don’t want to miss any more of your aunt’s wedding reception.”

  He kissed me on the cheek.

  “Of course, you don’t have to rush out there, Gypsy. You can take a few more minutes.” He winked and left. An old softy after all!

  I turned to Eli.

  “I don’t think we’ll be able to get this mess cleaned up, do you?”

  He pulled me toward him.

  “So ... let’s just see if we can make it messier?” He smiled.

  I laughed as the door banged open again. What now?

  Nicky had returned with two Knights of Columbus Fun Run T-shirts.

  “Pop says you might need these,” he laughed as he tossed one to each of us, along with a pair of sweatpants for me.

  “Thanks. Nicky, this is—”

  “Eli Chamberlain. I know.” He shook Eli’s hand. “Sis, do you think you could have mentioned that your mystery man was the CEO of Graviton Gaming?”

  “It didn’t seem relevant.”

  “To you. But I guarantee you that there are a slew of cousins out there who are going to be very excited to meet the man who invented the Nuon gaming system.”

  “I’ll try to live up to their expectations,” Eli said as he swapped out his cocktail-sauced shirt for the T-shirt.

  “Ha!” I ducked into the pantry and changed. When I returned, Nicky was gone.

  “I have something for you.” Eli held out his hand.

  The battered canister of tea.

  “I thought I lost it,” I whispered.

  “I had it in my pocket when we got out of the pedicab. I didn’t think our visit would be cut short before I could hand it back to you.”

  I opened it and breathed in the fragrance of the plum blossoms, remembering how his father had found every recording of the song honoring the flower because of his love for his bride.

  “So ...”

  “So ...”

  “So this is real?” he asked, clasping both of my hands in his.

  “Seems like it. But, Eli, what would you have done if I’d turned you away?”

  “But you weren’t going to, were you?”

  “What makes you so sure I still won’t?” I tilted my head.

  He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes.

  “Because I went all the way to China and back to find you. I’m sure not letting you go now.”

  Other Books by Barbara Oliverio

  Love on the Back Burner: A Tasty Romantic Comedy

  Readers’ Favorite Award-Winning Love on the Back Burner spins the story of sassy Alexandria D’Agostino. She is youngest in a tight-knit Italian-American family with a successful marketing career and a passion for cooking, yet her romantic life is less than 4-star. For years, she has tried cooking her way into men’s hearts by flaunting her old world culinary skills, but now, she’s changing the menu. She dishes up childhood favorites to a succession of first dates (recipes included). The book features an engaging cast of characters including a rock-star-turned- priest brother, a no-nonsense Italian immigrant grandmother, and a crew of friends who are always up for a good meal. With a dollop of persistence and a dash of laughter, will Alexandria discover the recipe for happiness—and perhaps love?

  Love on the Lido Deck: A Nautical Romantic Comedy

  Sharp-witt
ed, always-organized Keira Graham has traded in her high tech career as a systems analyst for the whirlwind world of event planning. As she builds up her fledging business, she learns that her widowed mother has news of her own—a serious gentleman caller! Is Keira ready for mom’s new romance?

  When she gets a game-changing opportunity to organize a major event on a luxury Caribbean cruise, Keira turns to best pal chef Alexandria D’Agostino to help recruit famous chefs who will offer classes for foodies looking for fun in the sun as they gain cooking know-how. The cruise becomes a rollicking adventure for Keira, her sassy assistant Juliet, the entire D’Agostino clan, Keira’s mother and other surprise guests. And has Keira meet her match in charismatic Cruise Director Brennan McCallister, who could have something more than keeping everything shipshape on his mind?

  Filled with wit, charm, and a few recipes along the way, Love on the Lido Deck brings characters to life with laugh-out-loud situations, crisp dialog and sweet romance on the high seas.

  Available on Amazon, BarnesandNoble.com, iTunes/iBookstore and wherever fine books are sold

  About the Author

  Award-Winning author Barbara Oliverio applies her writing skills to both fiction and non-fiction and is a public speaker and retreat facilitator. She and her husband have well-worn passports with many stamps. This is her third novel.

  For bulk sales or author appearance, contact

  [email protected]

  www.scolapastapress.com

  Like: facebook.com/AuthorBarbaraOliverio

  Follow: twitter.com/@BOliverioAuthor

 

 

 


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