Chapter 27
KARINA
Marco and I are getting married at a lavender farm.
The fields are in full summer bloom and the landscape around the cottage house is lined with row after row of fragrant, deep purple buds.
Charlie took it upon herself to handle the décor, and her interpretation of my request for “subtle” resulted in a profusion of floaty chiffon, eucalyptus branches, wisteria, and tons of other gorgeous white flowers as far as the eye can see.
There’s even a driftwood arbor strung with tiny lights. This place looks like heaven on Earth.
I’m so glad Marco and I decided to go all-out. My first thought had been to stay at home and renew our vows on Bellanti property, but after he reminded me that we no longer have to worry about staying close to home for safety reasons, I took some more time to think on it.
“What would your dream wedding look like?” Marco had asked. “Whatever it is, I say we do that. Sky’s the limit. We’re free to live our lives however we want now.”
But I couldn’t decide. I’d never given much consideration to what my own preferences for a wedding ceremony would be, since I grew up knowing my uncle would handle my nuptials.
Suddenly having the freedom to choose left me drowning in Google images and Pinterest boards and wedding planning blogs.
I was overwhelmed with possibilities, and starting to think that the whole eloping-in-Vegas thing wasn’t such a bad idea.
That was when Frankie intervened and suggested I talk to Charlie.
When she recommended the private lavender farm for our intimate family-only wedding, I immediately fell in love with the idea. I’m glad that Marco did, too. Once we had the venue nailed down, everything else started coming together quickly as well. So here we are.
Peeking out the window of the cottage, I spy white chairs lined up in front of the arbor that sits under the shade of a massive oak tree.
Since it’s only our immediate family in attendance, the seating area is small and intimate.
Pillar candles made of beeswax burn inside tall glass hurricane vases, casting a warm glow along the path I’ll walk to the arbor.
Everything looks perfect. I owe Charlie, big time.
This all feels so surreal.
My first wedding in the Bellanti chapel had been a rushed, forbidden, and a completely secret affair.
For my do-over, I’m thrilled to have the chance to enjoy the small pleasures of being a bride.
A stylist who Frankie knows came in to do my hair and makeup.
She wove an elaborate braid down the back of my head and over my shoulder, then accented it with small white flowers.
For makeup, she kept it light and simple as I asked.
My dress is cream, high-waisted, and cap-sleeved in the Regency style I love so much.
I think even Jane Austen would approve. Frankie also gifted me a dainty gold chain with a pink pearl drop pendant. It goes beautifully with my ensemble.
I can’t stop turning this way and that way in front of the large oval mirror, admiring how such an understated dress can be so elegant. I look like me, but a different version of myself.
I look happy.
Frankie is tucked into a wide, deep-seated leather armchair.
She watches me through sleepy eyes. I’m pretty sure she actually was sleeping a few minutes ago.
Who wouldn’t be in that chair? The entire cottage is plush and comfortable.
It’s used exclusively for the events here, and there’s a separate bed-and-breakfast on the property as well.
I would have begged Marco to stay there for our honeymoon, but we’re flying to Sicily instead. Not that I’m complaining.
“You haven’t stopped smiling all morning,” Frankie teases.
In the mirror, I look at my sister-in-law and grin. “Oh yeah? Well you haven’t moved from that chair all morning.”
“Want to know a secret?” She winks. “I’m stuck, and I don’t even care.”
We both laugh, and we’re still giggling when we’re interrupted by a knock on the door. Charlie pops her head around the door, her expression a mix of surprise and caution.
“Karina? You, um…have a visitor.”
“I’m not expecting anyone,” I say, confused.
Everyone who is supposed to be here already is. Charlie steps back and swings the door open wide. My breath hitches in my throat.
“Mom?” My voice breaks. I can’t believe she’s here.
“I’ll be outside,” Frankie says, tactfully slipping out of the room and closing the door.
“You look lovely,” Mom says, stepping further into the room on light feet.
Her narrow shoulders are turned inward, her body language telegraphing her uncertainty. She’s dressed for the occasion in a pale, dusky rose gown with subtle beading on the sleeves and nude heels. Her hair is done up, and I spy a slick of lipstick.
“Thank you,” I say, still reeling. “Are you…did you…what are you doing here?”
She flashes a worried smile. “Marco sent an invite. I hope this is okay? I can go, of course, if you don’t want—”
“Mom. No. Please, stay.”
I’ve never seen her look so fragile and yet so strong at the same time. I’m sure it took a lot for her to break away from my uncle to come to the wedding today. Crossing the room to her, I clasp her delicate hands in mine and urge her to look at me. Her eyes fill with tears.
“You really do look beautiful, Karina. Just beautiful.”
“So do you. I’m glad you decided to come.”
Her face lights up. “You are?”
“Of course I am.”
Nodding, I look her over. Her old bruises have healed, and she doesn’t appear to have fresh ones.
She’s never been a healthy weight, her nerves and stress constantly ruining her appetite, but she looks well.
There’s more color in her cheeks and her face isn’t so pinched and dull. I wonder if she’s given up drinking.
“Is Dad here?” I ask.
“He’s already seated.”
I peek out the window again, my heart flipping as I recognize his broad shoulders.
“I’m so proud of you, Karina.” Her voice is thick with emotion.
“For getting out, and never caving to your uncle. I nearly let him destroy your life the way he did mine. I…I’m not a brave person.
I’ve been afraid of Sergio since we were children.
For as long as I can remember, he’s been the one running the show.
But you stood up to him. You really did. ”
There are countless ways she was a terrible mother, but in this moment, I don’t care about any of them. This is a fresh start. It’s time to let go of the past. I’ll never forget, but I think that with time, I’ll be able to forgive. Maybe then, she and I can begin to build a real relationship.
For now, though, I only want to focus on Marco.
“Why don’t you go sit with Dad and I’ll see you both afterward?”
She smiles and sniffles a little. “Okay.”
She closes the door as she leaves, and I find myself staring at it long after she’s gone.
“Knock, knock,” Charlie calls from the hallway.
“Come in,” I tell her.
“It’s time,” Charlie says as she steps into the room, followed by Frankie, who holds my stunning bouquet of lavender, blue thistle, and eucalyptus.
“How’d it go?” Frankie asks softly. “With your mom, just now. You okay?”
“I’m okay,” I say, and I mean it.
“Good!” Charlie says. “Because we gotta get you out there.” She grabs the bouquet from Frankie and hands it to me. “Are you ready for Wedding Take Two?”
“Yes. More than ready.”
“Molto bene! I better go find my seat,” Frankie says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before waddling away.
I follow Charlie down the hall to the front door, and on her cue, I step outside into the bright sunshine. The string quartet starts to play, and I feel a broad smile stretching across my face. Here goes nothing.
As I pad over the pebbled walkway in my silk flats, I inhale the calming scent of lavender in my bouquet.
Marco waits for me under the driftwood arbor.
He’s in a three-piece gray suit with a button-up vest, a pale blue shirt, and a navy silk tie and my God he looks good enough to eat.
He smiles wide when he sees me and our eyes lock instantly, so that I’m barely aware of our families watching as I walk down the aisle.
After I hand off my bouquet—right back to Frankie, who’s sitting in the front row—I finally take Marco’s hand in my own.
The string quartet stops, and a light breeze wafts around us, carrying the sweet scent of the fields and the coastal air.
Marco barely stops looking at me long enough to acknowledge the priest as he begins the short ceremony.
Everything about this is so different from our first wedding in the tiny stone chapel.
We’re not hiding anymore. Our union is out in the open for everyone to see, and we no longer care who knows or how they might react.
This is the way love is meant to be.
Our vows are completed, and I’m rocked to my core by the glint of tears in Marco’s eyes as he pulls out my engagement ring. I haven’t worn it since he took it off after winning the big race. My finger has felt so empty without it, and I’m excited to finally have it back.
But as I look closer, I realize that it’s different. The center is the same—a flawless, emerald cut stone set east-west—but now there are periwinkle blue side stones added, one on each side of the diamond.
“Sapphires,” Marco whispers. “Thought a little upgrade was called for.”
The ring sparkles in the light as Marco slides it onto my finger, snug against my gold wedding band, right back where it belongs.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I love it.”
Our eyes meet and then he kisses me, tenderly, gently. His touch is filled with love, and I can’t stop clinging to him as our mouths move together. The kiss goes on much longer than it probably should, and everyone cheers loudly when we finally break away.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Bellanti,” the priest says.
Marco cups my cheek and gives me another soft kiss. I wish we could run off and board our flight to Sicily right now. Throwing my arms around him, I nuzzle his ear.
“I can’t wait to be alone with you,” I whisper.
“Me neither.”
He pulls back to give me one more kiss and then smiles against my mouth.
“Welcome to the rest of your life, Mrs. Bellanti.”