“Women sure like to talk don’t they,” Luis murmured, careful to speak in an undertone even though they were in the living room.
With Zeke busy working on a wooden puzzle from the toy box, Jack gave Luis a wink of accord. “They do talk more than us. But no matter what, always make sure you listen when they’re speaking to you and respond politely, okay?”
“Okay.” Luis tipped his head in the direction of the dining room. “They gonna talk a long time?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad they’re getting along. I’ve known Liz all my life and Jillian means the world to me.”
“So you want them to be buds.”
“Maybe not that, but it would be nice if they weren’t enemies.”
Much later that night after the boys were asleep, Jack and Jillian had a last glass of wine on the sheltered deck overlooking the ocean.
“I like Liz. I can see why you were so close.”
“I’ve know her since pre-school.” Jack smiled. “Thanks for being nice to her. I appreciate it.”
“She said you helped her get through this mess with her husband. I know how much that means. It would have been a comfort to have someone like you when Ben went off on his spiritual quest.”
“I wish I’d been there,” he said, gently.
She smiled. “Me too.”
“I won’t ever let you down.” He met her gaze in the moonlight. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Jesus, I have to deal with more bullshit from the dead?”
“Hey, stop.” Leaning over, she pressed her fingers to his mouth. “You don’t have to deal with anything. I’m the luckiest woman on the face of the earth. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Hearing you utter that sentence was just déjà vu, that’s all.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for something that wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t good to you. Even if he was still alive I would have taken you away. So fuck him.”
She smiled. “I love your knight in shining armor persona.”
“Uh-uh. Pure cave man. I would have done it without a shred of guilt.”
“My Mom was dying.”
“I would have taken care of her too.”
“I was pregnant.”
“So?”
“You would have just overlooked all that?”
“Damn right. We were meant for each other.” He more than anyone understood that after years of casual sex with random women.
She smiled. “Like a real life fairy tale.”
He shrugged. “More like an old silent movie where the villain throws the heroine out of her home. Although I almost didn’t deliver that eviction notice. I normally don’t do that shit.”
“Maybe we would have met anyway.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, politely. Although unless she’d come knocking on his door, he never would have seen her. It was that fucking close. They could have missed each other. He wasn’t easily frightened, but that scared the shit out of him. “Look,” he said, gently, “if I get too controlling, like wanting to know where you are every second and crap, you have my permission to rap me on the head. Cause I’m thinking I might be that way sometimes.” Always, but he’d have to watch it. “Deal?”
She nodded, then with a flicker of her brows, said, “FYI, if you ever smile at another woman the way you smiled at me that first day, like you were offering me the world and all its pleasures, I’ll punch you. I don’t care where we are. Deal?”
He laughed. “You know who’s bigger, right?”
Her eyes sparked in the moonlight, her voice went up a notch. “I’m warning you, I’ll make a scene.”
“Hey, calm down, Bear.” Reaching across the small distance between the chairs, he lifted her up and onto his lap as if she were weightless. “That’s never going to happen cause I’m don’t care about other women. Only you. Got it?”
“What if”—
“Only you, Bear, now and til the stars go dim.”
She took a deep breath. “I love you so much. Tell me not to worry.”
“Nothing to worry about. That’s my job. Your job is to keep the sun shining in my world. Okay?”
She nodded, her eyes full of tears.
He kissed her gently, then smiled. “Ready to get married tomorrow?”
A flurry of nods this time.
He laughed. “That’s what I like—fucking enthusiasm.”
Chapter 57
The next day at four, Jack, wearing a new tux and clean-shaven in honor of the occasion, stood before a facsimile of a medieval altar that had been erected in the rose garden. Wade and Ray were to his left, the minister to his right, the guests, ushered in by his younger brothers, were seated before him in row upon row of gilded chairs. A quintet of chamber musicians had just stopped playing. He saw his mother nod at the conductor of the twenty-four piece orchestra housed in the nearby arcade and a moment later the opening bars of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz from Sleeping Beauty commanded everyone’s attention.
A ripple of anticipation flowed through the crowd; everyone turned toward the entrance to the rose garden.
Framed in the rose-covered archway was one of Jack’s younger sisters wearing a floaty dress of peach chiffon. With a smile Lea walked into the sunlight and moved down the recently-constructed flagstone aisle, followed a moment later by her twin sister, Lydia in an identical dress. The beautiful sixteen-year-old girls had joined the family as babies orphaned by the war in Afghanistan.
Lydia was halfway down the aisle when Zeke broke away from Luis and cannon balled through the archway, shouting, “Yook at me!” The blouse of his little white page outfit was partially untucked from his shorts, his unruly blonde curls bouncing as he raced down the aisle tossing rose petals with wild abandon. Larry caught him just before he barreled into Lydia, distracted the toddler with a toy car he pulled from his suit coat pocket and carried him back to his seat.
After the hubbub died down, Luis, red-faced with embarrassment, appeared in the archway, his hair slicked back again, his tux straightened, the slight tremor in his hands quickly contained. Keeping his gaze on Jack who was smiling encouragingly, he carried the ring cushion down the aisle without mishap and with a military precision that made people smile, took his place in the wedding party.
A stir of indrawn breaths wafted through the crowd.
The bride was next.
Curiosity was high.
Everyone knew Jack. He’d been one of the most eligible bachelors on the planet before and after his marriage; some said during as well but those were largely unsubstantiated rumors. Now, suddenly, very suddenly some noted with a suggestive eye roll, he was marrying a woman few knew; an anomaly in a small town where everyone knew everyone. A widow with a young son, wholesome, innocent, fresh as dew; the rumors were rife.
Talk about something coming out of left field.
Jack and innocence?
No one would have bet a nickel on it.
A flourish of trumpets from Mendelssohn’s Wedding March suddenly filled the air, marking the entrance of the bride. As if to emphasize the momentous occasion, a rainbow appeared from the haze on the distant horizon, the bright curve of color framing the archway. Perfectly.
Jack smiled, recalling the ray of sunshine illuminating Jillian that first morning in the Mendocino Hotel. She walks in beauty. Even the universe was in accord.
Five hundred guests stood transfixed by the magical tableau: a rainbow as curtain raiser transforming the scene; a stunning bride in a magnificent gown framed in a tumble of climbing roses; the romantic imagery fairy-tale-like.
Jillian wore flowers in her hair, a delicate wreath of roses crowning an antique veil of handmade Brussels lace Jack had purchased for the something old of tradition. Jillian’s gown was a fantasy of white lace, its bouffant skirt buoyed by tulle petticoats, the Juliette neckline and small cap sleeves framing her pale shoulders, her radiant smile for the man waiting at the altar.
Jack had never been happier.
Jillian in a daring leap of faith had found the love of her life.
All eyes were on the bride as she appeared to take one step forward, then changing her mind, stood motionless.
If it was possible for silence to exist in the midst of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March such was the voiceless bafflement on display.
Jack held out his hand in reassurance.
Jillian smiled, waved.
They could have been alone in the vast crowd.
Then as she slowly moved forward, Jack strode toward her, heedless of custom and the gasp from the audience. And when she hesitated again at the collective sound of astonishment, he broke into a run, scooped her up in his arms a moment later and twirled her around in a billow of white lace while the orchestra gamely played on.
“A helluva lot of people, right?” he whispered, coming to a stop. “My fault, I should have told you.”
“It’s okay. I was just surprised. My veil though”--her eyes flared slightly at the intense scrutiny directed at them. “Oh, shit, we’re shocking everyone.”
“Forget it. What about your veil?”
“Could you pick it up so it doesn’t get torn?” Her voice was so low he had to lean in to hear. “Or put me down and I’ll get it.”
“No way, Bear. You’re not going anywhere until we’re married. Hang on.”
Then in a gesture that fueled gossip for weeks afterward, he did a deep squat in a perfect symphony of muscular coordination, rested Jillian on his thighs while he caught her trailing veil, tossed it over his shoulder, and smoothly stood upright.
People exchanged amazed looks, breathless comments; a Guinness record number of eyebrows were raised. Who said chivalry was dead?
As Jack carried Jillian toward the altar, a spattering of claps erupted, quickly swelling into a riotous crescendo, exploding into whoops of delight at the last when he undraped the veil from his shoulders, set his bride on her feet, and kissed her.
Cue the end of the wedding march.
Same old Jack, everyone thought. Audacious, exempt from rules. Although, every woman who’d ever enjoyed Jack’s personal attentions uttered a small sigh. That jaw-dropping act of love signaled the end of his bachelor days.
After waiting for the pandemonium to die down, the minister who was a friend of the family, smiled at Jack. “Is everyone ready now?”
Jack looked at Jillian.
Rosy with embarrassment, but wildly happy, Jillian nodded.
“We’re ready,” Jack said.
The brief ceremony was made briefer when Jack noticed tears welling in Jillian’s eyes. He looked at the minister and murmured, “Skip to the end, okay?” then turned to Luis and added, softly, “We’ll have the rings now.” Wade and Ray exchanged glances but weren’t surprised. Jack’s gaze had been trained on Jillian since she appeared in the rose archway, his attention unreservedly focused on her.
Taking over the ring exchange with ease, Jack first slid Jillian’s gold band on her finger, then slid on his—a first for him; he’d chosen not to wear a wedding ring before. “Thank you, Evan.” He smiled at the minister. “Now make the announcement so I can kiss my wife.”
The word, wife, suddenly washed the world in sunshine, the rollercoaster of emotions the last two weeks, her recent misty-eyed wish her mother could have been here evaporating, this moment so full of joy and happiness Jillian’s heart swelled. As she lifted her face and Jack bent low to kiss her, she whispered, “Husband of mine…”
Jillian smelled of roses and summer air, she was sweet and wonderful, she was his heart and soul. “I love you, Jilly-bean,” he whispered, and kissed her so tenderly the entire audience was moved to silence. Even those who didn’t want to be; even those who had been telling themselves this marriage wouldn’t last any more than the last one had.
Raising his head a moment later, Jack looped Jillian’s veil over his shoulder, lifted her into his arms, and turned to the vast multitude of guests. “Meet Mrs. Jack Morgan,” he said with an adoring smile for his bride. “The love of my life.”
A stunned hush fell at the extraordinary pronouncement from a man of Jack’s reticence and reserve, the silence lasting a pulse-beat, no more. Then the first hip, hip, hurrah rang out, quickly followed by a chorus of raucous, ringing jubilation that spread over the rose garden, across the acres of vineyards on the surrounding hills, and rose triumphant into the limpid, blue/gold sky.
With the ceremony over, wine, drinks and hors d’oeuvres were served in the scented garden, followed in turn by a seven-course, al fresco, candle-lit dinner, dancing under the stars, and the warm companionship of a close-knit community. After a neighborly few hours had passed, Jack leaned in close to Jillian and quietly said, “I’m running out of small talk and good manners. Come, let’s say our goodbyes.” Since he’d been carrying a sleeping Zeke for the last hour, he signaled the band to stop playing as they approached the bandstand. After helping Jillian up on the platform, he waited a few moments for the increasingly rowdy crowd to quiet, thanked everyone for coming to the wedding, replied to a few shouted jests with good humor and curtailed a comment from one of his drunken friends with a raised hand. “That’s it, guys. We’re off on our honeymoon. But the wine and liquor won’t run out, the band will play as long as you can dance and Mom’s serving breakfast in the morning.”
Amid loud cheers, they made their way through the press of people, found Luis playing with the other children, Sam at his side, then hunted down Leslie to say goodbye.
“The wedding was just wonderful,” Jillian said, a little dewy-eyed and blissed out, her smile joyful. “I can’t thank you enough. It was a dream come true.”
“My pleasure,” Leslie said, smiling broadly. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed doing this. Boys can be troublesome.” Careful not to wake Zeke, she tapped Jack on the chest. “I was wondering if he’d ever find a girl to love. So thank you for making this all possible.” Pulling Jillian into a hug, she whispered, “You’ve made him happy and that’s not easy.” Stepping back, she gave Jack a nod. “Now send pictures of your honeymoon. I like to know what’s going on.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“That tone of voice means he won’t, so you send me some, Jillian.”
“We’re out of here, Mom,” Jack interjected, afraid of a lecture. “And thanks for everything.” He grinned. “You did Hollywood proud.”
Chapter 58
It was ten pm Venice time when their charter jet landed at Marco Polo airport. Jack’s driver, Paolo, met them and drove them to a private boat pier where Jack’s Panorama Limousine cruiser was tied up. After everyone, including Sam, was aboard the long, sleek boat, Paolo navigated the twists and turns of the moonlit canals at high speed, the nighttime beauty of the ancient city flashing by in all its picturesque glory.
Jillian was wide-eyed at the stunning display, Luis, standing beside Paolo at the wheel, was spellbound at the boat’s flying pace. Seated beside Jillian with Zeke sleeping on his lap, and Sam at his feet, Jack was pleased his choice of a honeymoon site met with favor, although he wasn’t surprised. His decision to buy a home here was prompted by a similar sense of awe; Venice was breathtaking.
In short order, thanks to the late hour and Paolo’s driving, they reached Jack’s small palazzo, the boat was tied up and a few moments later the small party stood before the arched facade. Jack turned to Jillian. “Elevator or stairs?”
Jillian smiled and pointed. Luis and Sam were halfway up the courtyard stairs.
Following a boy and his dog up the stone staircase, they walked into a mirrored entrance hall. Having been called by Paolo, two, middle-aged nannies, looking professional in navy blue slacks and white blouses greeted them in English, and welcomed them to Venice. When Luis was introduced, he responded with polite reserve, then looked up at Jack with a searching glance.
“You can always call me if we’re out for the evening,” Jack said; he’d given Luis his own phone. “Otherwise, w
e’ll be here. Mariana and Francesca are mostly babysitting Zeke. You okay with that?”
“Sure. Just checking.”
Jack smiled, understanding Luis’s sense of caution wasn’t going to disappear overnight. “Not a problem. Let’s go find your bedrooms. I’m guessing Zeke is out for the night.”
A half hour later, Zeke had been tucked into bed, Luis was in the room next door, watching TV, Sam sprawled beside him on the bed. Luis was dog-sitting tonight and taking his responsibilities seriously. Or maybe Sam was babysitting Luis; Jack wasn’t sure of the dynamic. In any event, he and Jillian, would be alone tonight.
Jack issued instructions to the nannies while Jillian did a last check on Zeke. “Although my wife’s directions supersede mine,” he noted.
A few minutes later, Jillian came into the nannies room. “Zeke is sleeping soundly,” she said, “so fingers crossed. But he can be a restless sleeper. If he wakes up and doesn’t see me, he might start crying. If he’s a problem, don’t hesitate to knock on our door.”
As the newlyweds descended a broad flight of honey-colored marble stairs a few moments later, Jillian gave Jack a rueful glance. “Don’t be surprised if we get a frantic call in the night. Zeke’s only had Larry and Em babysit for him so he might freak the first time he sees two strangers.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’re just on the floor above.” Although Jack had confidence the nannies, with their impeccable credentials, could handle the situation. He wasn’t, however, rash enough to say so. “How about a drink? Then I’ll show you the view from the top floor.”
Jillian softly laughed and linked her arm in his. “What a charming suggestion. Who ever thought I’d be in a Venetian palazzo being offered a view from the top floor?”
“Who ever thought I’d be offering it?” Jack smoothly replied.
“We’re on our honeymoon so I’ll say poppycock rather than something more vulgar.”
“I love when you speak Jane Austen. Nevertheless, it’s true.” It’s not that he’d been virtuous in Venice, he had just chosen not to bring the ladies home. “I haven’t had the place long,” he said, offering a reasonable if not factual explanation. He’d bought the house as a private retreat a year before the divorce; maybe he’d had a premonition. Wade had kept it out of the settlement. “What do you want to drink?” He gestured at a small bar tucked into an alcove. “Sit down. I’ll bartend.”
A Fine Balance Page 35