Chapter 32 The Arrivals
Chapter32 The Arrivals
The Mother of the Bride
Alexa leaned against the luggage cart in the baggage claim area at LAX, a giveaway that she was beyond fatigued from being
on her feet for the last few days. There had been site inspections of the wedding venue and her final dress fitting. She had
shopped for gift baskets for multiple guests staying in multiple locations, like Simon and his family and Timmo Lynch. She
walked through Roxanne’s beach house, where her family would be staying, to inspect the linen and the bathrooms because her
family was in the hospitality business and very demanding about such items. (She swapped out the hand soap, candles, and other
amenities for extraordinary ones from Hudson Grace at the Country Mart.) And last night, she stood in the kitchen, baking
loaves of her signature bread, her only culinary skill. Now, as she waited for her family to make it through customs, she
used the cart as a barre so she could stretch out her hamstrings. She’d been obsessed with her walk down the aisle and keeping
her muscles flexible for the task. She didn’t want to creak down the aisle like someone’s yaya.
Although she hoped to be a yaya fairly soon.
It was then that the Diamandis family emerged from the tunnel leading from passport control like an army of well-traveled mercenaries ready to add their energy to any event. The clan included her older brothers, Nikos, Yiannis, and Theo; their wives Thalia, Demi, and Calla; and cousins Chloe and Iris, who were close in age to Penny. (They opted to shop in California rather than ski in Italy.) Rolling their bags like pros, dressed in black puffers and Euro sneakers, they appeared to have all slept well and been fully caffeinated on the plane. The Diamandises were a force.
Alexa’s heart burst. She had underestimated the joy she would feel at seeing her family on her turf for Penny’s wedding. Normally,
it was she and Penny who traveled to see them, making the thirteen-hour flight and arriving on familiar soil with anticipation
of experiences to come. But not this time, and it made Alexa grateful and humbled to have her people on hand to witness the
next step in Penny’s life. For the first time in all the planning, she had the feeling that this wedding weekend might actually
be fun.
As soon as they spotted Alexa, the noise level rose in the arrivals area, with calls of “Yia sas!” and spontaneous cheering,
as if they were in a contest to outdo the large Korean and Brazilian families in the waiting area. The Diamandises came to
conquer.
After hugs and kisses, Alexa went into tour guide mode, popping up a collapsible white flag with the distinct Odyssey Vacations
logo, leading her family out in the chaos that was the LAX curbside pickup. “Let’s go! Páme, páme!”
“You’re not driving, are you?” her brother Nikos asked, immediately settling into old family patterns about her inferior road
skills. Everybody laughed, even Alexa.
“Of course not,” she said, leading the group to a black Mercedes motor coach stocked with water, coffee, and snacks. “We do
things first-class here in the Golden State. You have a driver all weekend. Meet Ricky!”
And with that, the family piled into the bus to start the two-hour drive north to Montecito.
***
After the long drive followed by a leisurely lunch at Jeannine’s, where Alexa’s family marveled over the generous California
salads and all the people in great sunglasses, she delivered her family at Roxanne’s house and instructed them to make themselves
at home. Roxanne was staying at the Miramar with Toots, but she had stocked the fridge for her guests, which was a lovely
gesture. They immediately organized a late dinner at their place, contacting Penny and insisting she and Chase come. Ricky
was tasked with taking the women to the grocery store to supplement their supplies while the men napped. They were resting
up to do the cooking, her brothers claimed. Alexa could tell the chaos was going to grow from there, so she ducked out quietly.
She loved her family but they were a lot.
Plus, she had one more guest to get settled.
***
Alexa was waiting for Timmo Lynch at the rental house she had secured for him, which was walking distance to her own place
but in an entirely different stratosphere in terms of price and prestige. Set back off the street, it was an immaculate midcentury
modern with ripe citrus on the trees, a heated lap pool, and a view of the Pacific Ocean from the dining room. It was the
latest celebrity rental house, a trend that had infiltrated the neighborhood. The owner was a designer from Sag Harbor who
had recently relocated and was trying to put his stamp on the town. He didn’t live in this house, but it was all part of his
online presence. He was the type who not only had his own line at Target but shopped there, too. At least according to his
social media. He’d offered the neighbors first dibs on the rental over the holidays at a reduced fee as a show of good faith
and appreciation. Alexa snapped it up on Timmo’s behalf.
At first, the mayor had balked about not being at a hotel, but she informed him that many of the wedding guests and the Widows would be staying at the Miramar and she would hate to run into them in the elevator. A private home, she reminded him, would be more private . He signed on immediately. They wanted to make the most of their three nights together.
Timmo had a driver and security for the weekend, and she watched as his black car pulled into the driveway. The candles were
lit and the champagne was chilled. Earlier in the day, she had felt a little guilty leaving her family for... for what?
Was Timothy Lynch her boyfriend? Her lover? Something more? Time would tell. But for now, he was both a distraction and a
destination. There were the long calls at the end of his day. The flirty texts. The anticipation of their next meeting. But
there was also planning their first getaway somewhere after his reign as mayor was over. The suggestion of spending August
together at his place on Long Island. She scanned real estate listings imagining her own little place in New York. They were
enjoying both the grand and the intimate moments together.
She opened the door. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
And she really meant it.
He allowed security to check the house before sending them off for the night.
“Where is your team staying?” Alexa asked.
“I have no idea. For three more days, I’m the mayor of New York. And I’m going to let my executive assistant make all the
arrangements. Next week, I’ll be an old out-of-work Irishman, taking cabs and scraping by.”
“I doubt that.”
“As do I,” he said, then took her in his arms and kissed her. Deep, exciting, but familiar in the best way. “You smell good,
like the sea.”
“I swam today. A quick plunge. But I didn’t rinse my hair. Knowing how much you like the salt air.” She kissed him again, tasted the whiskey he must have had on the plane. “Maybe you’ll come with me in the morning down to the beach.”
“If you’ll stay with me tonight.”
She thought of the overnight bag she had already stashed in the primary bedroom. Of course she would stay with him tonight.
“Yes. That’s my plan.”
***
Later, when the champagne was gone and the dishes done, the couple relaxed on the couch, a fire roaring in the fireplace and
some sort of light jazz coming through the speaker system. Timmo’s eyes closed, but he wasn’t quite asleep. He was on New
York time, and even a night owl like himself felt the effects of the three hours’ difference. She thought about giving him
a shake and then dragging him to the bedroom. But when his breath got heavy, she knew he was past his peak performance hours.
She laughed as she thought about aging and romance. Timing was everything.
“Timmo.” She shook him gently. “Let’s go to bed. You’ll need your sleep for tomorrow morning.”
He stirred. “That I will.” And then he asked for the second time that night, “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”
“Yes. That’s my plan.”