by Kathryn Shay
The backyard looked out over a forever wild area. The adults were all in the dining area, including Maggie. The kids— Morgan and Melody, Simon and Ryan and Jamie—played outside on the gym Gabe and Nick had built. Also joining them was John Blackwell, Max’s father.
Whitney began. “So, here’s what we want.”
Connor knew Whit and Max had given a lot of thought to the mechanics. Though they didn’t care much about the ceremony, they wanted to make the event special for Mama and Pa. “We’d like just family and our closest friends to attend. Pa, we can invite your brothers from out west if you want.”
“Let me think about that one, honey.”
They’d made another concession. “Mama, we’re getting married in church. Max has been going to one down the street from us. It’s Catholic.”
“Thank you, agra. I know that is for me.”
“It’s for all of us,” Pa added.
“The adults will be up on the altar with us. Gabe, Dec, Nick and Connor you’ll be men of honor for us both. Mama, you’ll be my matron of honor. Pa, you’ll walk me down the aisle.” She turned to Maggie. “And you can be a bridesmaid.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.”
Max put in, “Dad, I want you as my best man.”
“I would love that, son.”
“We’d like the kids to feel special so we’re putting them in the choir loft on either side of us.”
“I’ll have a talk with them before about behaving.” This from Gabe, who all the boys seemed to listen to the best.
“What’s everybody wearing, Aunt Whitney?”
Connor was glad to see Maggie so animated. When Whitney asked him about including Maggie in the adult plans, he’d said he thought that would go a long way in making her happy.
Whitney focused on the teen. “I want something simple. I was hoping, Mags, that you and Mama could help me pick it out online before you go back.”
“What is this online?” Mama asked. “No bridal stores?”
Whitney rolled her eyes.
“I’m kidding, dear. Online is fine for your dress.”
“You and Maggie could go shopping and get something coordinated.”
Maggie said, “In pink?”
“Oh, God. Pink!” The girls loved to tease Whitney with girly things, like the pink walls and bed linens in her old room, and their suggestion that she get her nails painted pink when they went for manicures.
“I’m kidding, too, Aunt Whitney.”
“What about us guys?” Connor asked.
“No tuxes. You’ll wear suits.”
Mama was beaming. Connor was so grateful to his cousin it distracted him from his obsessive thoughts about Calla. And his longing for her to marry him.
“This sounds wonderful, doesn’t it, Tony?” his mother exclaimed.
Pa winked at Whitney. “Yes, Deirdre.”
“There’s one more thing,” Whitney added. “We asked President Manwaring to come to the wedding and reception.”
Maggie’s eyes bulged. “The president of the United States?”
“Yes, honey.” Nick ruffled her hair. “He’s Aunt Isabelle’s brother. She thinks he’ll attend. That’ll mean Secret Service, but hell, we’re used to them hanging around.”
Macy asked, “What about the reception?”
“We were hoping to have it outside.”
“Where?” Gabe’s wife wanted to know.
“That’s up to Gabe and Nick.” Whitney smiled, the one she’d used all her life to wheedle the guys into giving her anything she wanted.
“Oh, honey, I’d love to have it, since Isabelle couldn’t attend otherwise.” Nick seemed really pleased. “If it’s in our backyard then we can carry her out to the living room, or the yard, if the doc okays that.”
Gabe said, “Fine by me.”
Macy added, “Let’s have it catered. I can be in charge of the arrangements since I’ve had experience in the food industry. That way, no one has to do anything that day.”
“Caterers have to be vetted by the Service if Jim attends.”
Max shrugged. “That isn’t such a big deal.”
Macy scanned the group. “The president will do just about anything for all of you.”
Whitney eyed Declan. He hadn’t said a word about the plans. “Dec, is this all okay with you?”
“Sounds great. Thanks for including Mags.”
Connor knew Declan wasn’t okay, but now wasn’t the time to talk about it. He guessed something had happened last night when he met Lila for a drink. Connor intended to find out as soon as he had an opportunity.
“Are you done yet?” the boys called out from the back door which was open with screens.
Nick rose and went to the kitchen. “Yes, and no screaming in the house.”
“Us and the girls are hungry.”
“We have pizza coming.”
Maggie called out, “I’ll get them snacks, Uncle Nick, and entertain them till the food comes.”
“How sweet. Gabe?”
“Anything in the pantry is okay.”
She got up and circled the table. She gave Whitney a big hug. “Thanks for including me, Aunt Whitney. I like that I’ll be with the adults.”
“Well, you are one, almost. Next year you go to college. I love you, kid.”
“I love you, too.”
When she was gone, Declan shook his head. “I wish I got those declarations from her so easily.”
“Want to talk about all that now?” their mother asked.
“Nah, Mama. Let’s enjoy planning Max and Whitney’s wedding.” He winked at Connor. “Now about the bagpipes and brass band?”
Whitney grinned at him. He smiled back.
o0o
On the morning Calla’s father left to take Brie home in his private jet, Renata, Lexy and Calla dressed in their finest suits in a variety of colors: mauve for Renata, yellow for Lexy and Calla donned a muted red outfit. Matching hats completed their attire. They were attending an outdoor concert for the Casarina National Guard. Every year, the event raised money to further fund the educational programs that Renata had instituted, and the event was a must-go for the royal family.
In the car, all three women sat in the back seats. They hadn’t driven far when Lexy’s phone rang.
“Should I take it?” she asked. “I don’t want to bother you two.”
“Sure,” Calla arched a brow. “Maybe it’s a beau.”
“I don’t have a beau.” Her sister clicked on. “Hello... Yes, this is Alexandra Marcello.”
Renata cocked her head. Why would she use her middle name, though it was legal?
“Oh. Oh! Hello.” Lexy’s eyes went as round and shiny as a freshly minted coin. “Yes, I sent it six weeks ago.” A long pause. “Oh, you do? You do?” Calla could hear a man’s laughter on the other end. “Yes, yes, it hasn’t sold yet... Of course I know your house is large. Terms?” Now Lexy waited. “Oh, my God.” More laughter.
A longer explanation from the other end.
“Yes, I live a distance away, but I should be able to come. I’ll get back to you... Mr. Reynolds, thank you so much.”
When Lexy hung up, her hands were trembling.
Renata frowned. “Cara mia, you’re shaking, but you sounded happy. What was that all about?”
When she still didn’t answer, Calla’s asked, “Lexy, tell us.”
“Oh, my God. It’s wonderful.”
“Well,” her mother said dryly, “we all could use some upbeat news.”
“I...I...got a book offer.”
“A book?” her mother asked. “What kind of book?”
“One I wrote. And Ravenna illustrated. It’s for children.”
“Are you serious?” Her mother’s face flooded with joy. And pride. And much love.
“Yes. The editor wants me to come to New York for a discussion of terms. But Mamá, he mentioned six figures. I know money isn’t important to us, but that means they expect many people to buy my
work.”
Mamá smiled broadly. “It’s wonderful that they value what you’ve written.”
Calla came to the edge of her seat. “You told me you never shared your writing with anyone and that it wasn’t very good.”
“I did with Ravenna so she could do the illustrations.”
“Honey,” Calla continued. “This is a big deal.”
“I know. I’m so happy...” Suddenly, she frowned. “Oh. I—I was going to stay here and help you with the baby. Well, I won’t be gone that long. But Ryder Reynolds asked me to come to New York soon. They’re anxious to make a deal.”
Her mother said, “They’ll want to preclude others from offering.”
“I didn’t send the manuscript anywhere else but to Random-Reynolds Publishing.”
“Hmm. We’ll have to talk to someone about this. Get you an agent.” Calla made the suggestion.
Renata said, “Alexandra, there are publishers in Casarina. Or at least in Italy. Why did you not go there? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want help. I wanted to do this on my own. Anyone in Italy will know the Gentileschi name and probably yours, Mamá. Marcello is more common in America. And besides it’s my legal name, too.”
Their mother said excitedly, “We’ll have to celebrate tonight and make plans.”
“All right. I can’t hardly believe it.”
“My sister.”
“My baby.”
“My life!” Lexy said. “Oh, God.”
o0o
Calla’s mother never looked more regal than when she stood on the stage to introduce the Casarina National Guard band and thank the crowded audience. She stood tall with her dark hair flowing around her shoulders and down her back. She regarded the audience. “Thank you all for coming to support The Marcello Schools. As you know, we’ve educated thousands of young women and men from all around the world. Though the state of Casarina supports our efforts, your contributions today will go toward a trip the senior students are planning to the United States. And now, here is our National Guard band.”
Renata led the clapping as twenty-five men and women walked on stage. They were dressed in Casarina’s colors: the soft blues and greens of the sea surrounding them. The event had been planned close to the waters of the Mediterranean. Calla tried to enjoy the breezes and warm sunshine, and the scent of salt but her heart still hurt because she missed Connor. Even more now that she was carrying his child.
She wondered how he would fare in Casarina. If things were different, they’d spend time here and in the U.S. Once, they’d talked about what a life together would be like, but the notion was bittersweet because the fantasy could never be. So Calla was stuck, and she knew it.
The band began with a rousing rendition of the National Anthem of the country. Calla sang proudly. When was the last time she participated in the song? Too long ago, she decided.
It was when they went to sit down that she saw him. Them.
Lorenzo Bertocchi and his new bride, Katarina Affizzi, who sported a very round belly. Of all the things Calla expected if she ever saw him again, it wasn’t this. How long had the woman been pregnant? As a doctor, Calla could see that she was past her first trimester. Calla had left Casarina three months ago. Dear Lord in heaven, the woman had been pregnant while Lorenzo was still having sex with Calla, still hitting her. What kind of man was he?
Lexy followed the direction of her gaze. “Calla, oh my God.”
She took Lexy’s hand. “It’s all right. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t, really. A tape was playing in her head...
You envy Lorenzo because he’ll share that pregnancy while you deprive Connor of his right to do the same.
You didn’t do anything to change Connor’s mind.
You left without a fight.
Depression swirled like a fog around her. But today, seeing her ex-husband, she pushed the feelings away. She wouldn’t succumb to negative emotions. It was time to pull herself out of the funk she was in. She wasn’t sure she could act yet, but she wouldn’t mourn what she didn’t have.
The two princesses were sitting in the front row. When the concert ended and the crowd dispersed, Calla turned to find Lorenzo and Katarina had come up to her and Lexy. Seriously?
“Hello, Princesses.” Lorenzo’s tone was smarmy. “I thought I might introduce you to my new wife.” Her rounded belly didn’t take away from the woman’s Helen-of-Troy beauty. Long blond hair that shone in the sun. Emerald green eyes. Svelte even in pregnancy.
Calla said graciously, “Hello, I’m Callandra, this is my sister Alexandra.”
“I’ve seen you from afar,” the woman told them. There was satisfaction on her face. Calla thought, What the hell, let her gloat. I’m rid of him.
And said a prayer that the woman was not being abused.
“Stand back, Bertocchi.” Her mother’s strong voice came from behind. “You are never, ever to approach the royal family again, capisci?”
Temper rose on Lorenzo’s face.
To the woman, Renata said, “I hope he treats you better than he did Callandra. But if you ever need help, come to the palace. We are here for you.”
With that, her mother hustled the girls away.
On the way to the car, Calla said, “Mamá! You were so controlled back there. Even though I knew you wanted to rip his face off.”
A sly smile. “I already did that once.”
“What do you mean?”
She explained her first meeting with Lorenzo and how she attacked him. Calla had noticed there were still light scars on his cheeks.
Lexy said, “I’m glad you were kind to the woman.”
“I can afford to be kind to her. But I will not allow Lorenzo Bertocchi to think he’s accepted by our family.”
Sighing, Calla sank back against the cushions of the car. She reminded herself she was not alone in all this and she should be grateful for what she had.
o0o
At six at night, Jim Manwaring stood when King Alessio Gentileschi entered the Aspen Lodge at Camp David. His friend was dressed like an ordinary person: beige slacks, navy polo shirt with loafers. Then again, Jim wore jeans. “Alessio, my friend, so glad to see you.”
Bypassing Jim’s hand, Alessio gave him a bear hug. “Thank you for arranging this.”
“It’s nothing.” He saw through the window the Secret Service agents talking with the royal guards. “They probably have a lot to say to each other.”
“As do I to you.”
“Would you like to get right to it?”
“Yes, over this.” He handed Jim a bottle of wine from the best vineyard in Casarina. “A case for you is being put in the car.”
“Thank you.” Jim poured the wine and they took their glasses outside. May was magical all over Washington and Maryland and the flowers and shrubs were in full bloom. Jim wished like hell he could use the place as a retreat more often.
He turned to Alessio. Out here, he noticed the man’s face was lined with stress. He hadn’t had an easy time of it in the last few years. “What can I do for you?”
“Two things. Now that you have your immigration problems solved—” Jim had done sweeping immigration reform in his first hundred days, one of his best pieces of legislation “—I’d like to suggest dual citizenship for first families of both our countries.”
Jim sipped the tart cabernet. “This is superb.” He set his glass down. “I think I can guess why you want that.”
“Of course you can. My girls are all here. Their visas expire when they’re thirty.”
“The time limit was set at your request, Alessio.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “How could I have been so blind, Jim? I never saw my restrictions could backfire.”
“Fathers often can’t see their children clearly. We want so much to protect them, especially the girls, though I worry like hell about my boy in college.”
Alessio still wore a frown. “In any case, I realize this arrangement ben
efits me more than you. But I’m prepared to offer anything you want in return.”
“Hmm.” He thought of how he’d played matchmaker for Nick and Gabe. Hell, what was one more time? “Perhaps if we include my extended family.”
Alessio raised a brow.
“Connor Marino is related to my sister and would become a legal citizen of Casarina.”
“I see you’ve deduced my real reason for coming here.”
Jim laughed. “What’s your plan?”
“Just this...”
o0o
“You’re a stupid son-of-a-bitch, you know that, Marino?”
Connor spoke the words aloud in the back of a car which resembled President Manwaring’s limousine. Alessio Gentileschi, the man who ruined his life, had sent the huge armored vehicle for him. With a missive:
To Dr. Connor Marino,
His Highness, King Alessio Gentileschi, requests the honor of your presence at Camp David at 10 a.m. today. It is of utmost importance he see you, and he believes you will want to hear what he has to say.
Thank you.
He’d gotten the note at Whitney’s condo two hours ago. She’d opened the door to find his people on her stoop...
“We are emissaries of Casarina. We have a document for Dr. Marino. We were told he is staying at this dwelling.”
“Um, yeah, he’s here.”
Connor came to the door. “I’m Dr. Marino. Is this about Calla?”
Instead of answering, the man who wore a suit much like the Secret Service’s attire handed him an envelope with a royal seal stamped over the fold. Connor recognized it as the Gentileschi family coat of arms. “We will await your answer in the vehicle.”
Connor realized his heart was beating a clip. Dear God in heaven, he wanted this to be from Calla, he wanted her to have made an overture, so badly it hurt.
But instead her father requested his presence. Demanding an audience. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” Connor said to Whitney after she read the note.
“A king.”
“I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are. You’re miserable.”