37. Wedding Night
Wedding Night
Bianca
“We might die from the sugar, but that’s okay. I put a little fruit on the plate.” I set my creation on the sectional, careful not to drop any cookies or grapes between the cushions. Maybe I went overboard with eight different chocolates on this dessert platter, but oh well.
Spending my wedding night with Benny’s grandmother wasn’t how I imagined I’d start a marriage. I don’t know what I expected after this morning’s nuptials, but everyone scattering like roaches in the light wasn’t it.
The trip to the courthouse took more time in the car than signing the actual marriage certificate. Andrea, Stephanie, and Luiggi witnessed my quick vow exchange with Benny. Steph hollered until Benny threatened to put her out, which was all the enthusiasm anyone had for the occasion.
Benny kissed my forehead and said he’d be working late.
Luiggi went off to wherever.
Stephanie ditched me to spend the day with Andrea, likely with her ankles next to her ears.
Even the staff had left hours ago.
Nonna is the only person who cares to be around me. She’s been on my ass about learning Sicilian but hasn’t left my side since I came back to the house as a married woman.
She takes biscotti off the tray. “Grazzi.”
“Pregu,“ I answer, trying my best to unclench my fists and jaw.
The ass in my assumptions was proud and wide today. I just knew I was getting some wedding cake—maybe some flowers—to commemorate the occasion. I’d settle for peanut M&M’s or another Lunchable.
Something to show someone cared about Benny and me getting married.
I rub my temples and release a frustrated breath.
How are the people closest to me acting like today wasn’t special?
Promising myself to Benny did something to me.
It didn’t matter that I was in a sundress or that my hair and makeup weren’t full glam.
Our connection is deeper, which should’ve constituted more than a fucking kiss on my forehead and a day of meetings.
“Vulissi ? bichiri di vinu, pi favuri.“ Nonna’s silk bonnet tips toward the wine bottles Alfred pulled from the cellar before he left.
Retail therapy was today’s sponsor, courtesy of Benny’s dime. I swapped my dress for matching silk pajama sets, printed movie tickets, boas, pearls, face masks, and in-home spa supplies. I washed Nonna’s hair and did our nails and makeup.
I deserved better today and treated myself with my new buddy.
Her grandson is still a dickhead, but Lionara Parisi is alright with me. Being around her reminds me of Mama Vee. Her wisdom. The love and affection in her soulful eyes. Her presence quiets Mama Vee and Vince’s absence today.
I kick off my heels to get comfortable and hit play on our feature film.
Mahogany. “This was Mama Vee’s favorite movie,” I tell Nonna.
“She wanted to be a fashion designer with her best friend, who traveled to Italy. Mama loved her some fabric and said every woman should have a classic blazer, a good pantsuit, and a reliable pair of heels.”
Nonna’s hand covers mine.
“She passed away ten years ago. You two would’ve been good friends. Look at me.” I fan my face. “Crying at a movie that just started.”
The screen casts a bright glow over the living room. “Do You Know Where You’re Going To” slow dances across tile floors to the blanket we share.
I glance at Nonna and squint. “Have you seen this?” I could’ve sworn she bobbed her head.
She says something in Sicilian to Billy Dee Williams on the bullhorn.
“His character got on my nerves.” I laugh at Diana Ross playing the hell out of Tracy. She goes toe-to-toe with Brian, as she should. “Mama Vee told me sometimes true love will want to make you go upside their head. But the right love will challenge you while making you feel seen.”
I roll the gold band across my ring finger that matches Benny’s.
“Your grandson gives me whiplash. I shouldn’t say anything, but it doesn’t count as talking mess if you can’t understand me, right?”
Nonna’s focus remains on the screen.
“This marriage isn’t supposed to matter. It was an agreement with no emotion involved. But that’s not true anymore. It hasn’t been for some time. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him after my kidnapping.”
Nonna chokes on a grape.
I pat her back. She mumbles something fast in Sicilian with “My Jesus.”
“He’s bossy, a dickhead most days, and kills people.”
Nonna coughs again.
I frown. “Maybe we’ve had enough grapes for tonight.”
She squeezes my hand.
“The feelings I have for Benny aren’t fading. I love who he is around me, the parts of him the world doesn’t get to see. I love who I am when I’m with him and how he challenges me to meet my goals. He prioritizes me, except on the day we got married.”
I had voluntold him, but a small part of me thought things would be different because we were. Maybe I was in denial to keep from getting hurt. Like right now.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say.
“What you feel is valid, baby.”
I scream before Nonna does.
“You speak English?” I gasp, damn near jumping out of my bonnet and skin.
“Of course, I do!” She clutches her chest. Lord, if I kill this woman by accident… “My grandson asked me to speak Sicilian for you to learn.”
“Well,” I pant. “Shit. Sorry for cussing.”
Nonna laughs. “I hope you don’t hold this against me. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better, Bianca.”
“Me too.” I smile before my stomach somersaults. “Please don’t tell him what I said.”
She kisses my hand. “He cares for you, Bianca. I’m sorry today didn’t feel special, but I’m honored to have you in our family. Kidnapping aside.”
I groan. “You heard that.”
“Let’s pretend I didn’t. Don’t give up on him today,” she says.
The movie ends. I pack up the leftovers and say goodbye to Nonna, rerouting to my bedroom. I stare at my ring with glossy eyes and grab my phone to call Vince. He’d be heartbroken to miss my wedding, after he broke Benny’s legs with his bat.
“Principessa.”
“Hey, Vince,” I sniffle.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you too, kiddo. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. It’s been a minute, and I needed to hear your voice. I’m fine.”
“A lotta crying for you to be ‘fine.’ Who am I seeing?”
I snicker. “You’re too old to be fighting. I just finished watching Mahogany.”
“Oh.” He goes quiet. “How you been, kid?”
Married to a crime boss.
Pretending to be a don.
“Having an eventful summer,” I say honestly. “I took a solo trip.”
“Yeah? What state are you in?”
I bite my lip. “Italy.”
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Bianca Marie Harris. Tell me you didn’t run off to get fucking kidnapped.” Vince’s tone lifts in warning.
“Is it fair to look at Italy through such a negative lens? Kidnapping can happen anywhere.” It was a coincidence that someone had taken me in Naples.
“What did I tell you, Bianca? It’s not safe for you to be over there by yourself.”
“Vince, I’m turning forty. I’m old enough to take care of myself. Steph just flew in and is staying with me.”
His fatherly sigh is adorable. It comes with a side of cussing. “Just be careful, kid—and stay away from the south.” Too late. “My hips don’t do well on long flights.”
“I’m safe.” We’ll revisit the specifics once I get back.
After I leave for good.
The sun lowers toward the hillside, painting the sky in soft blues and pinks.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I say over the bougainvillea waving in the breeze. “Mama Vee would’ve loved it here.”
“Yeah, she would’ve.” My eyes prick with tears at the hitch in his voice. “You get your fearlessness from her.”
“It doesn’t feel that way sometimes. I have fears.” Like allowing myself to fall in love.
“The things worth the most risk often require the greatest faith.”
The drapes flutter at Vince’s recitation of Mama Vee’s words. Don’t be so afraid that you block your blessings, baby. She said it whenever I was ready to quit.
I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Anytime, kid.”
I promise Vince I’ll call more before he gets off to finish the lunch rush at the restaurant. We’ll dodge specifics about my trip for now, but I know they’re coming.
The drapes brush my skin on the way to my desk to journal. Putting words to paper helps me clear my head, and I need it.
A knock shakes my door.
“Little Latin boy in drag, why are you crying?”
“Bitch,” I cackle and wipe a tear at Stephanie. “Excuse me for being emotional on my wedding day. I’m the only one who seems to care since you left me. Where have you been, anyway?”
“Out, grabbing our gowns.” She tosses mine onto the bed.
I frown. “How? Didn’t Benny blow up the shop?”
She lifts a shoulder. “You know your husband is resourceful. I’m running late. Put the dress on and meet me outside.”
“Why?” I ask.
She bucks her eyes.
“Okay.” I’m off the bed to play dress-up. “You can still kiss my ass for that tone and for leaving me.”
“It’s fine.” I swat Stephanie’s hand out of my curls. They’re moisturized and don’t need her fingers fucking them up.
“This is a beautiful dress, girl.” Her eyes sweep my gown with a fresh lash install and double-winged eyeliner. Her hair is in a topknot with a few tendrils dusting the straps of her canary gown.
I fan my eyes. “Don’t make me cry. You said we’re going on the back porch.”
“A friend can’t be happy for her bestie?”
“Steph, you know this marriage is for my safety. We’re not…like that.”
“Who says it can’t be more?”
“Do you need to lie down? You’re acting funny.” I check her forehead.
“Come on.”
Her hand wraps around mine to pull me out of the room. Our heels echo in the glow of tea lights lining the hall.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Hush.”
Rose petals litter the living room between a row of candles and the back door.
Tears tangle my words. “Steph. All of this wasn’t necessary to eat dinner in our formalwear.”
Her voice chokes. “I didn’t do this. Your husband did.”
“What?”
Our fingers intertwine on our slow approach to the back door.
Outside, Alfred strums a guitar in a tux as Nonna sings a song in Sicilian.
Her soft yellow gown slides over the ground and her rich mahogany skin.
Loose pin curls, which she clearly hid from me along with her ability to speak English, ripple in the fading colors of the sunset.
“Hey, cousin,” Andrea says in a black tux.
My jaw drops and rolls. “No tracksuit?” I tease through tears.
“The occasion called for this.” He grins, offering me his arm. “May I?”
Nonna holds Alfred’s bicep to follow us. She winks at me as he sings and plays, never missing the chance to glance her way.
Oh, she has more secrets.
Tea lights flicker in bags bordering a rose petal path through the citrus grove. Straight out of a fairytale.
“You did all of this today?” I ask between trees wrapped in white lights.
Andrea tips his chin toward Stephanie. “This one got tired and quit.”
“Don’t lie on my name,” she scoffs. “I took an iced tea break.”
“A nap,” Andrea counters.
The two go back and forth, earning a hiss from Nonna to be quiet.
All laughter dies at the clearing lined with candles and more rose petals.
Benny walks toward me in a black tux with a red rose on the left lapel.
His long frame fills out his suit with the lean muscles I’ve memorized.
Hades and Ares follow, wearing red ribbons as collars.
“Where are their leashes?” Stephanie whispers behind me.
“Do not sing James Brown,” Andrea warns. “You already wore out ‘Please, Please, Please’ today.”
Remnants of the sun glimmer over Benny’s face as it sets and night comes to life.
“Hi, love.”
I offer a watery smile. “Hi. What is this?”
“Me showing you that you’re mine.” He takes my hands. “Our marriage is what we make it for however long we have.” The backs of his knuckles glide over my cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” The words catch in my throat with a day’s worth of emotions. His nearness is so overwhelming that I miss the priest behind him, next to his uncle.
“Giulianu Bennici,” he says, kissing both of my cheeks. His dark gaze regards me with an impassive expression. “It’s nice to finally meet the woman who has stolen his heart.”
Did that sound like a compliment?
Questionable.
Just checking.
Benny guides us around his uncle in all black to the priest. Andrea and Stephanie join us in the front as the best man and the maid of honor. When it’s time to exchange vows, the priest uses Benny’s current surname but asks us to recite another.
Parisi.
Benny’s real last name before he changed it to become who he is.
A slow smile eases over his face. He mouths, my wife, and brushes away a tear. We kiss as husband and wife for the second time today, under the sunset, to cheers, rose petals, and Alfred’s guitar.
The things worth the most risk often require the greatest faith.
Benny kisses my lips again. “Pack your bags after dinner. I’m taking my wife on her honeymoon.”
Rose petals pick up in a breeze. Through fear and the possibility of heartbreak, I choose not to block my blessings.