Chapter 10
Katarina
Dinner was tense last night. Lucky for me, afterwards Papa and Niko whisked the men off for manly talk, drinking, and smoking. I spent a while showing the ladies around the grounds, but eventually was able to retire to my room.
After a lengthy discussion with Klara while packing, I logged into the schedule to move things around so she could be with me today. The talk helped. I felt as good as I could, considering the circumstances.
I’d woken up to light knocking on my door for the tailoring of a dress I didn’t pick, and to choose from six different pairs of shoes. While they finished up a few details on the veil, I managed to sneak in a light breakfast in the kitchen.
Klara arrived not long after, and the rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. I was getting married today. I’d be leaving this place soon, for good. But for some reason, instead of the sadness I expected, I was numb. The day was a whole out of body experience.
The women that came with the bikers met Klara, and we did a ladies afternoon tea, then we all were taken to the beautiful Catholic Church that we visited on the major holidays.
We got our hair and makeup done by the stylists Papa brought in.
They all had lovely dresses as guests, but Penny was fitted for the only bridesmaid dress.
After meeting Klara, she eagerly gave up the dress, and the role.
I was appreciative, but I didn’t think I showed enough gratitude. Everything was just a blur and I was only able to maintain basic niceties and manners. Penny didn’t seem offended, though. If anything, she seemed relieved. And luckily, they wore the same size.
“Here, hon,” Mama Hen said as she passed me a sweet almond croissant and a glass of champagne. “You hardly ate, but this’ll take the edge off.”
Taking the pastry and glass, I nodded and took a bite. “Delicious.” The champagne paired well with the flavors. I wanted to knock it back but took small sips, nibbling the croissant in between.
“I love your dress,” Mama Hen said.
Looking at the sleek, white dress with fine details, I shrugged. “I suppose it’s nice.”
“That wasn’t very enthusiastic,” she replied.
My mouth fell open. “My apologies. The champagne must already be getting to me. It’s lovely. Just not the style I would have chosen.”
Her brows pinched. “I see. And the colors?”
I looked at the dress that Klara was modeling. The single bridesmaids dress was different from the others, but they all were a deep shade of red, like an aged Malbec. I personally preferred blues, grey, and even black. Not that black would be appropriate for a wedding. “It’s pretty.”
Mama Hen studied me for a moment, then patted my hand. “Can I get ya anything else, hon?”
Shaking my head and plastering on the best smile I could muster, I said, “No, but thank you so much.”
Mama Hen walked away, fussing over the other women. Klara came over and sat with me, grabbing the flute I sat down and taking a sip. “Not long now. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. You look wonderful. Thank you for being here.”
Klara put the champagne down and grabbed my hands. “I wouldn’t miss it. Are you sure you’re alright?”
Nodding, I smiled. “I knew this day would come. I just didn’t know it would be so–”
“Rushed?” she asked. “And nothing like you. Who picked out that dress?”
Shrugging, I said, “It had to have been Niko or Papa. Oh well. It’s all fine.” I pulled one hand from hers to grab the drink and finish it off. “Okay. Let’s get this dress on.”
“Wait. I have something for you.”
My hands shook as we exchanged vows. I wasn’t sure if it was how little I’d eaten, the champagne that kept being served to me every time I turned, or him.
He could pass as one of father’s men in his perfectly fitting tuxedo, clean shaven, and that dark hair swept back perfectly.
It clearly had product in it, but it didn’t look greasy or crunchy.
Some men put way too much gel, but not him.
I wondered if it was soft. I wondered the same about his full lips as I stared at them while he pushed a band onto my ring finger.
As he recited his vows I heard him, but it wasn’t registering.
I doubted he was Catholic, but of course Papa would arrange his only daughter to be properly wed in the Church.
“Katarina,” the priest said. Looking over, he smiled and continued, “Please repeat after me.”
Nodding, I looked back toward the hulking man with piercing blue eyes. “I, Katarina, take thee Hawk. Wait.” I whispered, “I need your real name.”
He grinned. “That is my real name. I’ll fill you in later.”
A few chuckles came from the pews. There weren’t many people there, but a small and quick wedding to Papa was not what a normal person would consider small.
Many of them were his associates and their wives, then of course those who came with Hawk.
Since his party was so small, Papa’s associates sat on both sides.
Clearing my throat, I went on. “I, Katarina, take thee Hawk to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.” Turning, I grabbed the band provided to Klara for him, then turned back.
Still shaking, I pushed the ring onto his finger. He took my hands, giving them both a gentle squeeze. I gazed into his eyes, almost in a trance, as the priest finished.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.
Hawk only let go of one hand, the other grabbing the veil and lifting it over my head. His gaze was heated, intense. Cupping my jaw, he leaned in and my lips naturally parted for him.
When his met mine, a spark ignited. My mind blocked all other noise or presence.
My eyes squeezed shut as his soft but strong lips caressed mine.
His tongue pushed inside, but it was quick.
He tasted of whiskey but the smell of cigarette smoke was present as well.
My hand squeezed his and his thumb swept over my cheek.
With one last soft peck, he pulled away and for just a second, my lips chased his.
But as sounds flooded back, clapping filling the cathedral, I remembered myself and straightened up. I was thankful for being raised to show no emotion. My stomach was flipping and my arm was practically vibrating from his touch.
We both turned, facing the small crowd of fifty or so people and Klara passed me my bouquet of dark red roses.
Hawk guided me down the aisle, arm in arm as the organ played. Klara and Niko were our only attendants. I assumed they were following us, but I was focused on smiling and making it through the grand wooden doors.
Two men opened them as we approached. Once we walked from the cathedral, we took a left as another man waved us in that direction. We stopped near an exterior door, and I turned to see if Klara was coming.
His breath was warm on my neck as he leaned closer and quietly said, “You look beautiful.”
Looking over, I was again entranced by his light gaze. My dress had a low scoop neck, and I prayed he didn’t look down because I was certain my heart was about to jump from my chest.
“Hey,” Klara called.
My trance was broken and I looked over as Klara and Niko came over. Niko shook hands with Hawk, my husband. Klara hugged me. Then Niko hustled us outside to the limo waiting.
The ride back to our home wasn’t very long, and it was very quiet. Niko poured champagne for everyone, and he gave me a stern look after mine was gone in just three sips.
Most of the guests had made their way back. A tent had been set up outside with lovely white and maroon decorations, and everyone dined on steak, chicken, or lamb.
A violin quartet played love songs, but after dinner, someone announced the father daughter dance. Hawk pulled my chair out and walked me to the makeshift dancefloor in front of all the tables near the stage.
“Thank you for escorting my little Katushka,” Papa said.
Hawk placed my hand into my father’s but before he left, he said, “I think she’s my little Katushka now, but I’ll let you have the first dance.”
Papa’s hand gently squeezed mine and I stifled a laugh. The quartet began playing Daddy’s Little Girl, though, and my chin trembled.
Papa pulled me closer, and we began our slow dance as the lights went down, a spotlight on us.
“You look radiant today, my dear.”
Smiling, I told him, “Thank you, Papa. You look very dashing. Isn’t it customary for the bride and groom to have the first dance?”
He chuckled. “Well, I took advantage of being in charge of planning. So, are you nervous?”
“He seems agreeable. I’m going to miss home. But I’m curious to see my new home. And the ladies seem very friendly.” That was all true, but it felt very trite. What else was I supposed to say? Feel? I didn’t know any of these people and have only left home long enough for a vacation.
He grinned. “Oh yes, lots of new things. But I meant nervous about tonight.”
Oh my God. Was he actually talking about this with me? On the dance floor? In front of all these people? “Papa,” I gasped.
His belly shook with his laughter. “Ah, my little Katushka. You’re a wife now, and you have your duties. I know your mother isn’t here to discuss such things, but I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you have built it up.”
Still forcing a smile, since everyone was watching and assuming we were having a lovely moment dancing to a heartfelt song, I said, “Papa, I’d rather not talk about this with you. I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Good girl. Or should I say woman?” He laughed again. “He’ll know you’re innocent, and I’m sure he’ll be gentle.”
“Papa!” I whisper-shouted. “Thank you but I fully understand my duties and what will happen. I don’t wish to discuss this with you.”
“Alright, alright. Just no more champagne. You’ll need to make this official before you leave.”
Swallowing hard, I lifted my chin and put on my very best fake smile hoping the bile that rose in my throat subsided soon.