by Mimi Strong
At MOCA, Dylan lost himself in an abstract painting for at least ten minutes. The painting was mostly white, with little crunchy-looking bits. I thought he was having a deep, profound experience, but when we walked away, he said to me, “I think we need a new dishwasher. I keep finding food on the clean plates.”
I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard. Dylan can be dark and moody at times, but he can also give Amanda a run for her money in the jokes department.
I can’t wait to be married, and to proudly call him my husband.
Chapter Eighteen
The morning of our wedding day could not be more amazing. The sun is bright, and flowers are blooming everywhere.
Tonight, we’ll eat and dance inside the castle’s ballroom. The dinner is being catered by a local family-owned restaurant, and there will be plenty of Italian wine, of course.
For the ceremony, chairs are lined up in the castle’s courtyard. Rose petals mark the aisle and the circle where Dylan and I will stand.
I’m nervous, but I think our special vows will be good luck. Clay Verity gave us a copy of the vows he and his wife wrote for their wedding. We decided that since the two of them have been happily married for so long, we’re going to borrow their words today for our “something borrowed.”
Our “something blue” is my old blue shoes—the ones from Dylan’s song, not the crazy heels. They’re not so pretty anymore, but they’re hidden by my beautiful dress, which is new.
Riley spotted my stolen wedding dress for sale on the internet, and Dylan wanted to buy it for me, but I told him I had a better idea.
As soon as we arrived in Rome, we went straight to the little wedding boutique I saw on my first visit, and I picked out their most beautiful gown.
Time is flying past me in a blur. The ceremony is about to start any minute.
Amanda and Riley fuss with my hair and makeup. They act like I’m going in front of a thousand people to accept an Oscar.
“It’s just us,” I say.
“It’s your wedding,” Riley says.
“Your real, secret wedding,” Amanda points out. We all laugh. No one has seen any paparazzi, and even if they did sniff around, Dylan made sure to book everything under fake names.
“I don’t care what I look like,” I say. “I’m just happy we’re all here.”
“Princess Jessica,” Amanda teases.
I look down at myself in the gown. The tight bodice is covered in shimmering beads. The shape forms a heart around my chest, with the point at my navel, making my waist look tiny. The skirt flows out from the hips, long at the back and with a slit up the front. The skirt is covered in tiny feathery material that layers softly. It’s glamorous and unique and stunning.
When Nan sees me downstairs, she tears up.
I hug her and beg her to not make me into more of a nervous wreck. “Riley and Amanda spent ages on my makeup. They’ll kill me if I mess it up now.”
She squeezes me tight. “The most beautiful thing you’re wearing today is your smile.”
Her words wrap around me with love. I have to tear myself from her arms before she does make me cry.
The music starts to play, just outside the doors leading to the courtyard. I hear Chet getting everyone to take their seats.
Nan curls her arm into mine.
“Is he the man of your dreams, Jess?”
I nod. “Yes, Nan. He is.”
“Good. I thought so. But you know, if he gives you any trouble after this, you just tell me. I’ll fly over to L.A. in a heartbeat.”
I laugh, then kiss her on the forehead. “You could just come and live by us. Then you could talk to him whenever you like.”
Nan smiles. “I do like the sunshine.”
The wedding march plays.
It’s happening.
Nan tugs me, and I stumble into my walk down the aisle. My insides are full of butterflies. Dylan’s standing next to Chet, plus Amanda’s boyfriend Caleb, and some older friends of Dylan’s. One of the guys is a tough MMA fighter, but he looks refined in his tuxedo, like James Bond.
All the guys are staring at me like they’ve never seen me before. I guess they’ve never seen this tomboy in a dress like this.
Dylan’s chest rises and falls with each heavy breath.
This is it. This is really it. After everything we’ve been through, Dylan and I are finally getting married.
Dylan lets out a low whistle when I get to him.
“Bellissima,” he says.
The world swirls, a wild twirl of color and light. People are talking, but their words mix with the chirping birds in the trees around us.
We stare at each other as we say our vows, but I barely hear any of it. I feel like we’re both floating, our feet not even touching the ground.
“I do. I absolutely do,” Dylan says, his voice rich with his trademark grit.
I say some words. I must have said the right ones, because Dylan leans forward and kisses me.
I can barely feel my own lips, let alone his. I drop my bouquet so I can wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him harder.
Our friends and family cheer and clap. A few people whistle, and finally, Dylan’s friend pulls us apart.
“Save some for later,” he tells us.
The wicked grin on Dylan’s lips tells me he has plenty saved up for later. We’ve slept in separate rooms for the last week, and there will be fireworks tonight.
Chapter Nineteen
I can’t stop smiling throughout dinner and it’s not just because of the wine and great food. Amanda and Riley make speeches that are mostly giggling. Throughout everything, Dylan never lets me go. He has my hand in his the whole time, like I’m a part of him now.
Before our tiramisu dessert, Amanda’s boyfriend Caleb takes the microphone. He’s so nervous about proposing, I can’t even watch.
Caleb starts his surprise proposal with a few kind words about me and Dylan, then stalls. He starts telling bad jokes about rock bands and drummers.
Dylan squeezes my hand under the table. “Poor guy,” he says. “This is why I didn’t propose to you in front of a huge crowd.”
“Hah! As if you’d ever get nervous in front of an audience.”
“Playing music is different. It’s a performance. When I’m with you, that’s real.”
I lean forward and kiss him. “I love you so much,” I whisper.
“I love you with everything and more,” he says.
Over by the podium, Caleb finally stops telling jokes and walks across the ballroom, to where Amanda is sitting at the long family table.
He clicks off the microphone sets it on the floor as he lowers himself to one knee.
Now we can’t hear a word he’s saying, but I can see it on Amanda’s face.
When he’s done proposing, she screams, “YES!” and throws herself into his arms hard enough to topple them both over.
Everyone goes wild, including the staff at the castle.
Chapter Twenty
After dessert, Chet takes the seat next to us and thanks us for inviting him.
Dylan says, “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, man. Are we good?”
“We’re good,” Chet says. He doesn’t acknowledge how Dylan once accused us of having an affair, but moves right into official Morris business. “We’re better than good. The publicity from the new restaurant partnership is working like a dream. Instead of giving that publicity cash away to bars, we’re getting a share back again. We’re launching the album with the budget it deserves.”
I smile at Dylan. “We’ve got some marketing surprises planned, too. You’ll see.”
Chet grins and pats the cell phone in his pocket. “Speaking of surprises, Dylan’s going to have some competition soon. I just got a call. We found her. The angel-voiced woman of my dreams.”
He looks lovestruck.
I tease him, “What’s going on, Chet? Are you going to sign this girl to the label, or propose to her?”
Chet gets a
mischievous grin, and his cheeks redden. This woman must be incredible if she’s making him blush.
“You love her,” I say, still teasing. “I can’t believe it. Chet Morris finally found a girl who makes him speechless.”
Dylan says, “Congratulations, man. If she’s the one, don’t let her get away.”
I’m so happy for Chet, I grab him in a hug. “We can come back here to this castle for your wedding.”
He pulls away laughing. “Easy now. Nobody said anything about a wedding.” His expression goes serious and he looks around at the ancient stone walls and flickering candles. “How far in advance did you have to book this place?”
Dylan answers, “It’s all ours for the rest of the week.”
Chet shakes his head. “I have to make a confession. I haven’t met this girl in person yet.”
Dylan and I exchange a look. Now my happiness for Chet is turning to worry. He’s a brilliant, powerful man, but love does strange things to people.
“She’s in Ireland,” Chet says. “I’m going there in the morning.”
“Alone?” I ask.
He looks away and casually says, “There are still a few seats left on the flight.”
Dylan and I exchange another look. I don’t even need to ask him, because I can see his answer in the twinkle in his eyes.
I whisper to Dylan, “This is crazy. We’ve barely seen Rome.” I pick up my glass of champagne and take a sip. “But I have always wanted to visit Ireland.”
Dylan says, “I need to check out this music competition of mine.”
His tuxedo tie is crooked, so I reach out and straighten it. He puts his hand over mine and unfastens the tie, then unbuttons his shirt.
While looking deep into my eyes, Dylan says to Chet, “We’ll come along to Ireland for a day or two. Just a fun detour.”
Chet pulls his phone out and starts making a call. “I’ll book the tickets.” He walks away from us, the phone held to his ear.
I shake my head. “You love keeping me off balance, don’t you?”
He takes my hand and kisses the tops of my fingers. “And you love taking my breath away.” He kisses his way up my arm, then gazes into my eyes. “The girls won’t mind if we ditch them for a couple days, right? We’ll be back in time for the big vineyard tour.”
“It’ll be fine. The next couple days were set aside for our… free time.”
His dark eyebrows raise with interest. A wolfish hunger lights his eyes with fire. “We can have free time anywhere.”
I glance around to see who might overhear us. Everyone is having a great time all around us. Caleb has taken over the DJ booth and is playing his own mega-mix of modern songs mixed with some of the oldies my grandmother grew up listening to.
She’s clapping her hands and having the time of her life, at the center of attention. She seems to be bonding with Dylan’s mother. The two of them have been side-by-side all day.
Dylan leans in close and kisses my bare shoulder. He lets out a growl, just loud enough for me to hear over the music.
“Jess, we should start our free time now.”
I look deeply into his dark brown eyes. Everything else slips away, and it’s only the two of us.
The two of us.
I don’t know if I should tell him what I’ve been thinking about. I don’t know if now is the time, or if I’m ready.
“Dylan, I…”
He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to finish.
I want to start making our family.
He keeps waiting for me to speak.
Let’s have a baby.
I bite my lip. Damn it. I can think the words, but I can’t say them out loud. Back when the thief stole my purse in Italy, along with my birth control pills, I started thinking about going off them. Then my sensible side kicked in, and I had my doctor send over the prescription to be filled in Italy.
I’m still on birth control, but every day I take my pill, I pause a little longer bringing it to my lips.
Dylan, let’s have a baby.
I can think it, but not say it.
Maybe I’m not ready to have a baby after all. If I can’t say the words, how can I handle the reality?
He’s still waiting, so I choke out some words. “I need to get out of this dress.” I make a goofy face. “It’s so pretty, and I love it, but you know I’m a tomboy farm girl at heart.”
“I know who I married.”
“I’ll go upstairs and get changed into something simple. Then we can really hit the dance floor.”
Dylan nods. “Caleb is threatening to play the chicken dance.”
“I love the chicken dance.”
He lets out a huge laugh. “Of course you do.”
I jump to my feet. “I won’t keep you waiting.” I gather the beautiful dress in my hands and run out, feeling like Cinderella.
As I turn the corner for the stairs to our room, my shoe hits the corner of an uneven tile. When I straighten up again, one shoe feels funny.
I sit on the steps and check the shoe.
My beloved blue shoes have seen better days, but tonight is definitely the end. The soles of both are worn thin, and now one sole has cracked completely.
I laugh to myself as I take the shoes off. My head feels light from the champagne, and suddenly everything seems funny. I can’t believe I think I’m ready to have a baby.
One of the Italian staff at the castle stops to ask me if I’m okay. I’m sitting on the stone stairs, in my wedding dress, all alone and laughing to myself, with my broken shoes in my hands. I can’t blame her for worrying.
“Yes.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Just catching my breath.”
“Are you waiting for someone?” she asks.
Dylan walks up behind her.
“Not anymore,” I tell her.
“I’ll take care of everything now,” Dylan says. The woman nods and walks away quickly.
“I haven’t even been gone five minutes,” I say. “You miss me already?”
He smiles and takes the broken shoes from my hands. “I know where these belong.”
“In the trash?”
He shakes his head, looking solemn. “In the display case at the restaurant, along with my old guitar. They belong together, to complete the story.”
I get chills all over my body. This is just like Dylan, to notice the poetry in life, to know how to put everything in harmony.
“Good idea.” I grab the railing and get to my feet.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he says, his voice low and gritty. “Don’t you run away from me.”
I wasn’t going to run, but now that he says I can’t…
Giggling, I dash up the stairs ahead of him. The ancient stone steps are cool and rough under my bare feet.
He catches up before we reach the door of our room. He sweeps me up in his arms, just like a prince in a fairy tale.
He holds me tight against his chest. I lace my arms around his neck and kiss his jaw as he opens the door to our room and carries me over the threshold.
The room is like a small apartment, with sumptuous couches, marble tables, and fresh flowers everywhere. Against the wall, under the window, is a king size bed.
Everything is perfect, except for the two housekeepers, making the bed. They’re older ladies, and they don’t speak English.
Dylan starts talking to them, not in English. He does speak French fluently, but his Italian is not great, apparently. The women look even more confused.
Finally, he gestures for them to carry on making the bed, then gives me a frustrated look.
“You’ll have to wait a little longer,” I say, teasing him.
I came up to get changed anyway, so I grab some of my things and go into the washroom. I use a washcloth to remove some of the heavy makeup, so I look like myself again. I slip out of the beautiful gown and hang it on the shower curtain rod.
Dylan is still in the room, waiting patiently in his tuxedo.
I slip out of the tight corse
t bra I had to wear under the bridal gown and freshen up with a quick dash through the shower. I’m careful to not get my hair wet, because I really love the styling.
He knocks on the door. “Bellissima?”
“One more minute,” I call through the door. I slip on some comfortable cotton underwear and pull on a simple blue dress. It’s not as fancy as my bridal gown, but it’s new, and the lace detailing at the neck will look nice in photos.
When I open the bathroom door, Dylan’s standing right there. His eyes go wide. He seems almost as surprised and excited as when he saw me in the gown.
“Let’s get back to the party,” I say.
“It’s still early,” he says.
He has a pair of my sandals in his hands. He passes them to me. “Come with me. I want to show you the gardens.”
I notice he has some blankets tucked under his arm.
My heart starts to race.
I put on my sandals quickly, and practically chase him out of the room and down the hall.
It’s dark outside, and as we move further away from the castle and its surrounding lights, it gets even darker.
Soon, there’s nothing but the moon lighting our way through the beautiful gardens. I can hear the music of our wedding party just faintly. They’re playing another oldie, and I can see everyone in my mind, dancing and having fun in the ballroom.
We come to a clearing, and the view of the valley is so beautiful, I stop right in my tracks. Even in the moonlight, I can see the contours of the hills and vineyards.
I turn to Dylan. “It’s like a postcard.”
We both look up at the moon and stars.
He says, “No way. They couldn’t fit all this on a postcard.”
We both turn around at the same time and look back at the castle. It looks warm and golden against the midnight blue sky.
“Right here is perfect,” Dylan says. “The fireworks are set to begin any minute.” He gazes down at me. “We can go back if you want.”
I take the blankets from his hands. “Not yet. I have something I want to tell you.”
Instead of telling him right away, I start spreading the blankets out on the grass. We both sit down, and then lie back, gazing up at the stars. He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says.