Chapter 36
36
T he Wedding, Harlem 1949
The sleek, pearl-white Cadillac glided down Seventh Avenue, its polished chrome gleaming under the pale November sun. Inside, Debbie Freeman sat stiffly in the backseat, her trembling fingers clutching the bouquet of white roses in her lap. The satin of her wedding dress nearly covered the entire back seat as she shifted uncomfortably.
"You alright, baby girl?" her father, Pete Freeman, called from the driver’s seat, his deep voice warm with pride. He adjusted the rearview mirror to catch her reflection more pefectly—his little girl, all grown up and radiant in lace and pearls.
Debbie forced a smile. "Just nervous, Daddy."
Beside her, her cousin and maid of honor, Kathy, squeezed her hand. Kathy’s dark eyes, sharp and knowing, lowered to Debbie’s stomach—still flat beneath the layers of tulle, but not for long. The secret between them was a living thing, pulsing beneath every word they didn’t say on the ride to the church.
"You look beautiful," Kathy murmured, adjusting the delicate veil perched atop Debbie’s pinned curls. "Like a movie star."
Debbie’s throat tightened. Beautiful . That’s what Matteo had called her the last time she’d seen him, his hands on her belly like she was carrying something precious. His baby was the one growing inside her—not José’s. But José Gonzalez, her sweet-natured Puerto Rican fiancé, was the man she had to marry. The only story her father would digest. The only man who could save her from disgrace.
The car slowed as they approached Mount Olive Baptist Church, its grand stone facade towering over the block. The sound of the organ spilled into the street, the deep, resonant chords of “The Wedding March” already swelling inside. A small crowd of well-dressed guests who were members of the church and ready to assist lingered on the steps, their breath curling in the crisp air as they waited for the bride’s arrival.
Pete parked the Cadillac and stepped out, straightening his tailored suit before opening the back door for his daughter. Kathy climbed out first, smoothing her emerald-green bridesmaid dress before turning to help her uncle and Debbie.
"Ready?" Kathy said.
Debbie swallowed hard. No.
But she took her father’s outstretched hand and stepped onto the pavement, the cold seeping through her satin heels. As Charles and Kathy fussed with her train—adjusting the folds of fabric just so—Debbie’s gaze drifted absently across the street.
And then—her heart stopped.
There, leaning against a lamppost, stood Matteo.
He wore a heavy wool overcoat, the collar turned up against the wind, and a newsboy cap pulled low over his brow. But she’d know him anywhere—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his broad shoulders filled out his coat, the quiet intensity in his dark eyes as they locked onto hers.
He shouldn’t be there. Not in Harlem. Not today . If her father saw him—if anyone recognized the young Italian prince, second-born son of Don Ricci, who’d been sneaking around with a Black girl—it would ruin everything.
Yet here he was. Defiant as always. Possessive as her heart needed. Honoring his vow to her that no matter what she said to another man today before the eyes of the Lord, he would be the man to love and protect her always.
Debbie sighed. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the two of them—the church music, the chatter of guests, the weight of her father’s hand on her arm—all of it faded.
She gave him the smallest, saddest smile. I love you , she mouthed, knowing somehow he’d understand.
Matteo’s jaw flexed. He nodded once—just a barely-there dip of his chin—before shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to walk away to a car parked up the street. His figure blurred as tears welled in Debbie’s eyes, but she blinked them back before her father could notice.
"Alright, princess," Pete said, offering his arm. "Let’s get you married."
“Yes Daddy,” she said.
Debbie took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward—toward the church, toward José, toward the rest of her life.
And away from Matteo.
* * *
The ceremony was beautiful. Almost all of Harlem including Bumpy Johnson and his wife were present. Half the church split between the Puerto Rican small community and the other half filled with Debbie’s guests.
Kathy watched her cousin and best friend say vows she knew she didn’t mean. Her gaze drifted to Ely who sat near the front pew and saw him staring at just her. When her gaze shifted to her father she could see he noticed the look Ely was giving her. Her father gave her a wink. She gave him a small smile.
And then it was done.
José and Debbie kissed before the entire church and several people clapped. The organ played, the rice flew and the couple went down the isle to proudly display their legal matrimony to the curch as Kathy passed off her bouqet to handle Debbie’s train.
Later, the party was at a local school gym decorated by the church under Mr. Glady’s instruction. Kathy had never seen her family happy. People barely noticed how little José and Debbie smiled. They went through the motions until the last guest left.
It was time for Kathy to step up and do what she had committed to do. She glanced at Ely. He nodded he understood and walked over to him. Kathy took his hand and boldly crossed the gym to where her father sat at a table laughing with Bumpy Johnson and the men in his crew.
Bumpy noticed her approach first, her father last. A wave of deja-vu went over her as she remembered the man who came before Bumpy that she gave the performance of her life too, before she fed him a poison cupcake. This time, she would do it right. Prove that Elliot women were more than killers. They were willing to make sacrifices for the family they loved.
“Hi, Bumpy, Daddy, Mr. Charles, Mr. Shane,” she said with respect.
“Hi, beautiful,” Bumpy said and got up from his seat to kiss her cheek. The other men said nothing, but all smiled and nodded.
“Bumpy, this here is Ely Brown. I don’t think you remember his father, Edward Brown, who used to run with the sanitation crew before he got hurt on the job and they moved back home?”
“I remeber,” Bumpy said and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you son.”
“Thank you sir, nice to meet you too.” Ely said and gave a firm handshake.
“Daddy, I wanted to tell you cause I already told Mama. Me and Ely will be leaving to head back to Mississippi tomorrow. We got to get Big Mama back before the last of the winter planting as promised,” Kathy said.
Henry gaze immediately went to his wife who was talking to guests. Brenda caught his stare and smiled.
“Your mama okay? What she say?” Henry’s mask of a tough guy slipped, and Kathy saw how vulnerable he became at the mention of Mama’s approval.
“She fine. You know the family coming this winter. We gone go and hang out with José and Debbie tonight. If that okay? Have some fun.”
Bumpy brows raised as if impressed. The other men aroudn the table stared. Henry got up and huggeed her. The shame she wore like a cloack all day as people from the community whispered about her and the Italian boy they were certain she had run off with, watched.
“Okay, baby girl. My Eddie and Scheff will be on you guys tonight. To make sure you safe.”
“Thanks Daddy, nice seeing you again Mr. Johnson,” Kathy said.
“Nice seeing you too, Kathy,” Bumpy said with approval. Kathy slipped her arm around Ely’s waist, as Henry slid Ely a pair of car keys to one of his cars to get them wherever they were going.”
Together she and Ely approached a laughing Debbie. “Where’s José? We ready to go,” said Kathy.
Debbie smiled. “Yea, I’m ready too. He went with hsi cousins. He’ll be back. Can you go get the car, and pull it around front,”she asked Ely.
He winked at Debbie and kissed her cheek. “You looked beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Debbie said softly. Ely walkd off.
When they were alone they hugged. “You okay?” Kathy asked.
“No,” Debbie shook crying on her shoulder and hiding her face.
“Hold on,” Kathy said. “You did great.”
“I saw him Kat. Across the street. He looked so hurt. I hurt him by making him do this,” Debbie wept.
“No! No! He wasn’t hurt, stop it Debbie. He was relieved. He was across that street because he wanted you safe. And he wanted you to be happy and respected here. Stop it. We gonna leave as soon as José come back. So smile and pretend just a little bit longer. Make your Ma happy and proud. Look at her.”
Debbie wiped her eyes and then looked up at her Ma surrounded by the church women fussing over her and Big Mama. Women that typically ignored her when her aunt Brenda back was turned. And her Ma looked so beautiful. Debbie smiled at how she glowed with joy when her father came up behind her and swept her into his arms. They were happy. Kathy at her side saw her father approach her mother. Maybe he wanted proof that her mom wasn’t angry with him. Her mom embraced him immediately and kissed him in front of every one. Somehting her mother never did in public.
“We did it,” Debbie said. “We made them happy.”
Kathy nodded, her heart hurting, beating fast, aching over the fact that she would be away from her parents again, not able to join the joy, not able to marry the man she wanted with them at her side.
“We did it. And that makes it worth it,” Kathy said.
Debbie took her hand and squeezed it. The girls gave each other a sad glance and smile. José walked back inside the gym with Ely. It was time time to go. Time to see the men they did love.
* * *
The back room of Mama Stewart’s was thick with the scent of collard greens and bourbon, the dim light pooling over the scarred wooden table where the three men sat. Matteo hadn’t spoken since he’d slipped back in, his knuckles white around the untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Carmelo watched his brother’s face—the red-rimmed eyes, the jaw clenched so tight it could crack teeth. He knew that look. It was the same one their father wore before he shattered something.
He had gone to see Debbie, to steal a glance of her in her wedding dress. He had told himself it was for her, to make her less scared. However, it was a lie. Carmelo had known fear and its dark depths ever since he had lost Kathy. What Matteo saw had broken something inside of him. The woman he loved was before God marrying another man.
Across from them, Samuel Foly, Superior Court Judge of New York, sat with the weary patience of a man used to delivering verdicts no one wanted to hear. His tailored overcoat hung neatly over the back of his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. He’d come as a favor, not a friend. He loved José, and wanted to reassure him that the life of secrecy he’d introduce him into was more safely guarded if he’d go through with the facrce of a marriage.
Mama Stewart slid a fresh bottle of bourbon onto the table, her gaze lingering on Matteo. “Here, boys. Drink this,” she said softly, before retreating, the door clicking shut behind her.
Carmelo broke the silence first. “Mr. Foly… I gotta ask.” He swallowed hard, the words sticking like gravel in his throat. “This ceremony we’re doin’ tonight—the vows, the papers you brought—it ain’t legal , right? I mean, it’s still against the law for us to marry Negroes. So even if we sign ’em, we gotta wait for the laws to change. Yeah?”
Samuel’s eyebrows lifted. “Who told you it was illegal?”
Matteo’s head snapped up. Carmelo frowned. “ Everybody knows. That’s why places like Mama Stewart’s exist. That’s why we’re hidin’ in back rooms like criminals.”
“Yeah,” Matteo growled. “It’s illegal .”
The judge sighed, swirling his drink. “You’re kids,” he muttered, more to himself than to them. “New York doesn’t have anti-miscegenation laws. Never has.”
Carmelo blinked. “ Miscegenation ?”
“Laws banning interracial marriage. They don’t exist here.” Samuel’s voice was calm, but his eyes were pitying. “There’s nothing in the books stopping you.”
The glass in Matteo’s hand hit the table with a crack . “ Bullshit! ” The cutlery jumped. “My friend Tommy—his cousin’s a cop—he swore it was illegal!”
“Tommy’s wrong,” Samuel said flatly.
Carmelo felt the room tilt. His lungs burned like he’d been punched. All this time. The running, the hiding, the lies—Kathy’s tears when he’d been dragged away before she was packed up and sent to Mississippi, Debbie’s trembling hands as she stood in a church full of people marrying a man she didn’t love— for nothing .
Matteo’s chair screeched as he shoved back from the table. His voice was a raw, broken thing. “My Debbie married him for nothing ? My son’s gonna call another man Daddy , and it was all a fucking lie ? She could’ve been mine ?”
Samuel held up a hand. “You’re not listening. Legally , yes, you could’ve married her. But no judge would’ve signed off on it?—”
“ You’re a goddamn judge! ” Matteo roared. His fist connected with the wall, plaster dust raining down. “ You could’ve signed it! ”
Samuel didn’t flinch. “I wouldn’t. Not for you. Not even for myself.” His gaze switched to the door, where the muffled sounds of the diner carried on, oblivious. “The world isn’t ready. I’m not ready.”
“ Fuck you! ” Matteo spat. He stormed to the far corner, his shoulders heaving, hands raking through his hair like he wanted to tear it out.
Carmelo pressed his palms to his eyes. Kathy. Sweet, fierce Kathy, who’d followed him into hell because he’d sworn there was no other way. If she ever found out—if she knew he’d upended her life over a lie —she’d walk out that door and never look back.
He forced himself to stand, crossing the room to Matteo. His brother was shaking, veins standing out on his forehead like live wires. “Matteo,” he murmured, gripping his shoulders. “ Breathe. ”
“She married him ,” Matteo choked out. “I made her do it. She begged me, and I?—”
“ Listen to me. ” Carmelo cradled his brother’s face, thumbs digging into his stubble. “The girls can never know. You hear me? Never. ” He glanced back at Samuel, then lowered his voice. “But we got the papers. Right? You brought ’em.”
Samuel nodded slowly. “They won’t be legal unless filed?—”
“ Did you bring them or not? ” Carmelo snarled.
Another nod.
Carmelo turned back to Matteo, gripping the back of his neck. “Then we stick to the plan. We marry ’em tonight. Show ’em the papers with the seal, make ’em believe . We keep those documents safe, and one day— one day —we file ’em for real. Debbie divorces José. Kathy comes home. Your son knows his father.” He shook him gently. “You protected her. Both of ’em. That wedding he went through today ain’t nothin’.”
Matteo sucked in a ragged breath, his fists unclenching inch by inch. Carmelo pulled him into a rough embrace, his own chest aching. Behind them, Samuel watched in silence, his glass untouched.
Some truths were worse than lies.