by Kathryn Shay
“If this is about her, why didn’t she come herself?”
“You’re a dope, you know that. You told her not to return. You said you wouldn’t see her. And when she asked you to go with her you refused. Now shut up and go.” She arched a brow. “This is a hard line, Connor...” The childhood promise to let the other decide if someone was not acting in his own best interest.
So Connor had accepted. By the time he reached Camp David, he was no longer fuming. He was incredibly sad. He and Calla had come together here again, he thought as they drove down the streets.
All the streets along this route are named for trees. Why? Connor asked.
A small smile from Calla. Because the trees lining the area are hickory, walnut, sycamore and others.
Smarty pants.
He wallowed in the sweet memory.
At the Aspen Lodge he exited the car, and the men who’d come for him accompanied him to the door. Was he supposed to knock? Who the hell knew what the protocol was? The guards took the decision away from him. They knocked and opened the door.
Connor stepped inside and came face-to-face with the king. With Calla’s father. Funny, Connor didn’t know exactly what to expect, maybe someone larger than life, but he looked like an ordinary man. About Connor’s size, six feet, with olive skin and dark eyes. He was fit for fifty-seven. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Marino.” Ah, his voice was regal. In command.
“You can call me Connor, Your Highness.”
“And I am Alessio. Would you want something to drink? Coffee? I have made Callandra’s favorite.”
You’re drinking my coffee.
Yeah. I like it, even if it is black as night.
“Not now. I’d like to know why I’m here.”
“Right to the point. Then let’s sit.” They took a couch each, in front of the window which let in a light breeze. Connor was suddenly perspiring so the air helped with that. “I am here to get to know you, Connor.”
“Why?”
“I would appreciate you not dissembling. If I’ve learned one thing in this entire ordeal, it’s to tell the truth.”
“All right. You want to get to know me because I’m in love with Calla.”
“Yes. I’ve done you both a grave disservice and am trying to right the wrong I have committed.”
Connor’s fists curled. He remembered Calla before she left.
I love my father, Connor. I love you too. Please don’t make me choose.
I am asking that. Stay with me. Please.
No, I have to do this for him.
“You know, sir, I might go along with what you ask if you hadn’t allowed her to be abused. Hit, beaten.”
Alessio’s expression changed from intent to emotionally gobsmacked. He sat forward and linked his hands between his knees, staring at them. Finally, he raised his gaze to Connor. “That is something I will go to my grave suffering for. I was horribly wrong.”
Connor wondered if the king had ever admitted that before.
“All right. I accept your regret. Your sincerity. But it’s not me you need to say all this to.” He pictured Calla and her dark beauty hearing this confession. She’d listen like she always did, then be thoughtful about how to respond.
“I already have. I told her and my wife the same thing. Callandra has forgiven me.”
“Not your wife?”
“Not as easily. She is a strong, loving woman, who was unable to forgive me for a very long time.”
“I see.” Still, Connor was unclear about why he was here. “Well, if it’s my forgiveness you want, you have it. I don’t see how that changes anything.”
“I am not here about myself. I’m here about you and Callandra.”
“What’s between us goes beyond forgiveness. She left me twice.” His throat clogged. “I didn’t survive the first time well, and although I’m still standing, I’m not so hot these days either.”
“Then give me today to convince you.”
Connor wanted to say no. He didn’t want to spend the day with this man, at this place that held so many memories. He opened his mouth to reject Alessio’s proposition. But he had a sudden flash of insight that this could be good for both him and Calla. “I’ll stay. I’m not making any promises, though. Even though you are a king. Calla’s father.”
“I hope I can change your mind.”
An hour later they were walking the grounds. Connor held his breath at the rush of pain that came as he remembered his walks with Calla...how her hand felt in his again...how she leaned into him...how they commented on the birds and the trees and the terrain.
“Memories?” Alessio asked.
“Many.”
“I’m sorry if this place upsets you. But I wanted you to remember what it was like when you were happy with Callandra here.”
“She told you?” Jesus, he wondered how much.
“Nothing personal. But I know you got close.”
Connor didn’t say anything.
“Let me give you some history, Connor, which might clarify why I am like I am. Which in turn leads to why Callandra did what she did. I was born fifty-seven years ago. My father was a good man, a loving one. I was their only child.”
Connor hadn’t known the details.
“I tried my whole life to live up to his expectations.”
“I understand. I feel the same way about my father.”
“I was groomed to take over for him. And then a cataclysmic event happened.”
“To him?”
“No, to me. I met Renata Marcello. She was from an upper-class family and her father was a banker. She was seventeen when she came into my life, right after I returned home from college. I saw her at a royal ball that she and her family had been invited to. When she walked in, I was stunned by her beauty.”
“Calla must resemble her.”
An indulgent smile. “She does. We danced all night. My father wasn’t happy. He thought I should pay attention to all the women of Casarina. But I couldn’t help myself.”
“I understand that fully.”
“I saw her every day for a month. She’d graduated from our university school which would be your high school. She was headed to college in France to become a teacher.”
“So with that education, she started the Marcello Schools?”
“She started them, yes. But she never went to France.”
“Why?”
“She started schooling in Casarina because of me. We have colleges there, but not as well-respected as some in other countries. Right away, though, she got pregnant with Callandra.”
“So she married you at seventeen?”
“Not for eight months. My father was livid about the child and ordered us to wed right away. But my Renata held out because she wanted a prenuptial agreement. Unlike Callandra, she knew about the laws of the land.”
“And you wouldn’t give it to her.”
“My father wouldn’t allow me to. But he gave in right before Callandra was born when he realized he was not going to force Renata to do anything she didn’t want to.”
“That’s quite a story.”
They walked farther, the crunch of the leaves and twigs beneath their feet filling the silence. Finally, Alessio began again. “Our life was idyllic for three years. We had another baby even. We were so happy. Then my father died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was twenty-seven when I became king. And it changed me, Connor. Not for the best. It started this whole chain of events that led me here to you.”
o0o
When they headed back to the lodge, Connor was still musing on Alessio’s explanation of what happened to change him. His mind was spinning with the tales Alessio told: of trying to balance family and government, becoming more and more stern and unyielding as he wielded his power out of the palace. Of his fights with Renata. Apparently though, they made up with passion because Connor knew his children were closely spaced. And Callandra had been raised with love, but also with a sense of deep and
abiding loyalty.
As they reached the pool, Alessio stopped. “Ready for a swim?”
It would certainly clear his head. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Jim Manwaring said to use the clothing he keeps here.”
“I’m not sure I can fill the president’s trunks.”
Alessio laughed, a full one, like Calla had laughed when they could suppress the hardships of Syria. It made Connor’s heart clench. The more he was with her father, the more he noted how much Calla resembled him, not in appearance but in mannerisms.
When they met back at the pool, Alessio dropped towels on a chaise and said, “Race you to the end.”
The total absurdity of the king of a country acting like a kid lightened the tension in Connor’s stomach. “You’re on.”
They walked around to the deep end of the pool, Connor counted, “On three. One...two...three.”
Both executed a perfect dive. Alessio had a strong crawl. And a fast one. Connor tried to keep up but he couldn’t. The king won by a length. “I still have it, cumba!”
He’d picked up some Italian and knew that was an archaic term for friend.
Hefting himself up, Connor sat on the edge of the pool, his feet still in the water. Alessio stayed in the water, leaning against the side. “Why did you join Doctors Without Borders?” her father asked.
Connor didn’t have to figure that one out. “Because I was needed. Because I knew I could help over there since I had the God-given skills to be a doctor.”
Hmm. “You know Renata’s parents were among its founders.”
“I do.”
“Calla’s explanation for going was almost the same as yours.”
Connor looked away. Loss hovered around the deck area, thick and deep. “At this place, we discovered we’re a lot alike.”
“That’s always good to build a life on.”
“Alessio...” He wasn’t ready to go there.
“I know. I promised her I wouldn’t pressure you.”
“She knows you’re here?”
“Ha! I would be run out of my own palace if she didn’t know. But you don’t understand. She asked me to check on you.”
Why did his heart leap at the notion? “That surprises me.”
“What do you mean? Surely you know how much she loves you.”
Connor didn’t respond.
Alessio said, “I’m taking another swim. Think about what I just told you.”
As the king executed an arm-over-arm crawl, Connor could think about nothing else:
I want you. I don’t know how to stop this.
You can’t. He leaned down and kissed her nose. We never could, right from the very first time.
Then, later...the carnal stuff: how it felt to be inside her. How she trembled under his hands. The intense pleasure she gave him.
But the most tender times hurt more:
Muffled sounds. Are you crying?
Yes. Are you?
Yes. I missed this.
I missed you so much, Connor. Like this, being a part of me.
I could never have this with another.
Me either, Connor. I love you.
I love you too.
Alessio returned.
Connor said directly, “You’re right. I still love her.”
“I thought so. Now, you must learn to forgive her.” With that, he pushed off from the edge again, leaving Connor to feel all sorts of conflicting emotions.
Like father, like daughter, he guessed.
o0o
They had a normal dinner. Alessio cooked, which Connor got a kick out of. After which, the king said, “I must go to France tonight for a meeting in the morning.”
“Will the car be available to take me back to Whitney’s place?”
“Of course. Before I go, may I give you some advice?”
Hadn’t he been doing that all day?
“Yes, of course.”
“Don’t let yourself lose her. She loves you, you love her and you could live happily-ever-after together.”
Connor smiled. Casarina had always seemed like a fairytale land to him.
“On a personal note, my relationship with Renata can be tumultuous sometimes, but I cannot imagine my life with another woman.”
Connor sighed.
“Do you honestly see yourself settling down with someone else?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps this last thing will help. I know of your fears about her leaving you again, perhaps taking your children with her. I promise on my father’s grave, I will never ask her to do that.”
“Even if we have a boy?”
Her father leaned over. “Yes, until he’s of age, and can make the choice himself. But I’ll instill a sense of loyalty in him, of duty to his country.”
“I would expect no less.”
“Take a risk, son.”
Connor sighed.
“You could go to Casarina now. I’ll send the plane back for you.”
“I can’t do that.” Did he want to? The answer came to Connor like a bolt of lightning. “But I’d like to. However, my cousin is getting married at the end of the week. I have to be here for that.”
“Ah, I see. After?”
“Maybe.”
“Thank you for coming here. Talking to me.”
“I love her as much as you do, Alessio.”
“Hmm. Then maybe someday, you’ll be calling me father, too.”
o0o
Calla and Lexy had begun playing Scrabble an hour ago. Because her father was due back anytime now, Calla thought it would be a distraction. But she’d forgotten how she and Connor played and the memories were bittersweet. Since Papá had left, she recognized that she probably wasn’t going to get over the terrible feelings inside her.
The door opened in the entryway. Calla forced herself to stay where she was until he came inside. She heard voices. Her mother. They spoke very softly, gently, then came onto the sunny living room holding hands.
“Papá, welcome back.” This from Lexy.
He crossed to her and kissed her cheeks. When Calla stood, he hugged her. In her ear he whispered, “I saw Connor. He’s in about the same shape as you are, cara mia.”
She stepped back, placed her hand on her stomach. “You did what I asked, didn’t you Papá?” She sounded like a little girl with the hope in her voice.
“Of course.” He glanced at her mother. “I know I let you down before, but I will not again.”
“I believe you.”
“I will tell you the details now, if you wish.”
“No, you’re always tired after trips. Go rest. I can wait.”
Her mother went upstairs with her father and Calla said to her sister, “I think I’ll stretch out here on the sofa, Lexy, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Can I get you something?”
“No thank you.” Calla lay down on the flowered rattan couch big enough for two people. She closed her eyes but sleep eluded her. She thought of Connor in Syria once more, his blue eyes sparkling with moisture.
I can’t imagine separating from you, Calla...
Please, love, don’t go back. We can be happy together...
And then the second time at Camp David.
You don’t understand my fears and the repercussions of the last time you left me. Razim...
Calla thought about Razim and how he died trying to save a man he adored. She thought about Connor and how he suffered over that. And she thought about her own state of mind and how utterly sad she’d been since she came home. She fell asleep with an image of her and Connor and the baby living happily-ever-after.
Calla awoke. The sun was setting but she could see the silhouette of her father against the sky. “Papá? How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know what I want to tell you, Callandra. Let’s talk.”
Chapter 14
* * *
When Whitney Anne Dwyer appeared at the back of Mother of Sorrows Church,
everybody took in a collective breath. Her face shone with so much pleasure, her eyes sparkled with so much love that every single gaze in the place focused on her.
The gawking was also caused by her appearance. The dress she’d chosen was strapless, and her tanned shoulders glistened even in the muted lights of the vanilla-scented sanctuary. White silk draped over her chest, narrowed at the waist and ended at ankle length. Sparkly shoes completed the outfit. Around her neck was a single strand of pearls that had been her mother’s. She wore no veil. One was not needed with her luxurious dark hair falling in soft waves down her back.
Pa, next to her, also beaming, whispered something in her ear and they proceeded down the aisle. The two reached the front, where the wedding party, aka the family, stood in honor of the bride. Each of her cousins wore raven-black suits, white shirts and silly grins. Mama had picked a simple pink sheath and Maggie a darker pink dress that Declan thought was far too mature for her.
The younger set waited in the seats reserved for the choir. Morgan and Meli sported frilly pink dresses. The three boys had been fitted with navy suits, but no one could talk them into ties. Still, Ryan and Jamie tugged at their shirts. Simon, Gabe’s son, shifted from one foot to another, but all of the nephews smiled at their aunt.
Max stood at the altar with his father, both in dark suits, too, an expression on the groom’s face that was so profound, so loving, he almost stole the show from her. Almost. When Whitney and Pa reached the front of the church, he practically skipped down to meet her. Shaking hands with her father, he pulled Whitney close and said, “Ready, hotshot?”
“You betcha, mister.”
The vows and the ceremony were simple.
Whitney: “I love you, John Maxwell, and no matter what happens I’ll be with you. I’ll love and cherish you our whole lives and bring you babies, and joy and happiness.”
Max: “You’ve already made me the happiest man in the world. Never again will I question my feelings for you. Never again will I leave you. You are the only woman, the only one, for me.”
The priest, standing behind him in garments of white and gold, asked the age-old questions and both responded “I do.” Max’s words were uttered hoarsely as if he couldn’t believe in his good fortune.