29. Olivia #2
I wished I could say that was the only time I had to fight off the urge to bawl while tears slid down my cheeks, but that wasn’t the case.
Not everyone made a speech—otherwise we’d have been there all week—but we had the traditional ones like the best (wo)man and maid of honor, but also Serafina and Zia Vedette.
When we were fully done eating our fill and I thought the whole process was over, there was another clink of a glass during our kiss “cooldown time”, and I searched the many tables to see Rolando standing up.
My baby brother.
While I might have been the youngest girl of my siblings, Rolando was the youngest period. But as he stood there, striking in his suit, he didn’t look quite like that little kid I had in my head anymore.
I supposed he hadn’t in a long time.
“Hey,” he murmured, looking over all the heads to meet my gaze. Although his cheeks were a bright pink, as they often were whenever he had to do any form of public speaking, his voice was strong and steady. He was growing into quite the mature adult, wasn’t he?
“Hey,” I said back, eliciting a small titter from some of our pack, but most were quiet. No doubt they were just as surprised by the unplanned speech as I was.
“I already said most of what I wanted to say to both of you earlier,” he started out.
“But that was separately, and I realized there was something I wanted both of you to hear together.” He paused, almost as if waiting for an interruption, but none came.
For once, everyone was listening with rapt attention to the alpha’s youngest child.
“When my sister first came to me and asked for my help in getting ready for a date, I couldn’t help but think that wow, I hope whoever this wolf is knows how lucky he is. But then that wolf turned out to be a human, and one date turned into nearly a year of them before I even met the guy.
“But I have to say, from the moment we first threw darts together in that disco-themed restaurant, I knew you were the guy for my sister. You saw her in a way I’d always wished someone would, and you pulled her out of the rut I’d been watching her dig herself into ever since I could remember.”
Keith’s hand found mine, and I interlaced our fingers, squeezing that same three-beat rhythm over and over again.
“Now, after getting to know you, and seeing how you treat her, I know what I should be aiming for when one day I find the person whose soul matches my own. You, my papa, even my uncle Luigi are all the best examples a young wolf can ask for on how to be a proper, loving mate.
“Thank you, Keith, for loving my sister like she deserves. And thank you, Olivia, for listening to your drunk baby brother when he begged you to make a change. Despite the lot of us being literal wolves, I never much believed in fairy tales, but seeing the two of you together makes me think that maybe that kind of magic is possible.”
He raised his glass, and like the rest of us, his eyes were wet with tears that were about to spill over. Maybe some packs would criticize us for having our emotions so front and center, but they could go fuck themselves. It was my wedding. If I couldn’t be a teary, snotty mess then, when could I?
Besides, people like that probably hadn’t been held enough as children.
“Saluti!” he finished before he cracked, taking a big swig of his drink.
“Saluti!” everyone responded, even the English-only speakers among us.
I drained my glass and I didn’t think the day could get any more perfect. Well… except for one thing.
Standing, I removed the cloth napkin Keith had spread across my lap and let all the happiness that had been building up within spill out into my voice and my scent. “Now, who’s ready to dance?”
There were cheers all around, and the majority of people began to exit the pavilion to go to the dance area where there was a tiny little tent for the DJ and speakers in each corner.
No self-respecting Italian was going to throw a wedding with subpar music.
That was akin to running out of food. Or wine.
Or announcing an engagement or pregnancy during the reception.
Like that would ever happen!
Keith and I followed along with them, hand in hand, right up until we reached the edge of the dance area. Nearly everyone who was up to get down was waiting around the perimeter, and I knew exactly why.
After all, we’d been rehearsing for weeks.
“Hi, Papa,” I said, letting go of Keith’s hand only to reach for my father’s outstretched one. He had been waiting in the center of the square of grass we’d marked off for dancing, looking like an old Italian movie star in his tux with his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back.
“Hi, mi principessa.”
With that, he pulled me into the dance hold we’d practiced and the soft, gentle music started to play.
“O mio babbino caro~” the song began, and I would have thought that I’d long since run out of tears, but they commenced slowly, following the same tracks as those that preceded them, salty little trails of pure wonder and love.
“Mi piace, è bello, bello~”
We drifted across the floor, just my papa and me, my alpha and me. The music was saccharine as Kiri Te Kanawa’s lilting tones took us through the song.
“I am so proud of you,” he murmured, and I got the feeling that he wanted to rest his cheek on top of my head like he used to when I was young, but I’d long since grown too tall.
“Thank you, Papa.”
“You truly have become a beautiful woman. Inside and out. You are glowing, mi tesoro.”
“Sì, sì, ci voglio andare~”
It wasn’t a long song, something we’d chosen on purpose because while my father was many things, a jitterbug wasn’t one of them. But that was okay. We’d picked out a version of the song that had more than a minute of instrumentals so it wasn’t obscenely short or overstayed its welcome.
However, I was surprised when the ending approached and it felt like it was too soon. I was more than ready to start this new chapter of my life, but at the same time, there was so much history I was closing the book on.
“Just remember,” my father said, drawing me into an embrace so we swayed there during the final phrases of the song. “No matter what, you will always be my little, particular, brilliant principessa.”
“And you’ll always be my papa,” I whispered back, my voice warbling and barely audible.
He kissed my forehead. “Yes, I will.”
The song ended, and there was a swell of soft applause all around us.
Amanda somehow teleported to my side, handing me another silk handkerchief, somehow knowing that I’d left my other one in the wedding dress’s hidden pocket when I’d changed out of it.
It was for the best, really, because I’d already soaked that thing through.
While the crowd applauded, I took the time to dab at my face and compose myself, but once it faded, I threw my hands right back up in the air.
“Come on, everybody! Let’s dance!”
***
My feet hurt from dancing.
My face hurt from smiling.
My stomach hurt from laughing.
Even my neck hurt from lack of sleep and the weight of my hair and the ornaments piled into it.
In other words, it was the perfect day.
Everyone seemed to be having a blast, even the more curmudgeonly members of my pack who only attended such events as a formality rather than for genuine enjoyment. And considering how little food was left on the heated plates, it was safe to say they were all fairly satisfied too.
It was everything I wanted and more. Human and shifter, young and old.
Immigrants and natural-born citizens. None of those divides mattered.
In the end, we were all unified not only by love, but the desire to share that love.
For so long, I had been terrified of telling Keith the truth because I thought it meant that I would lose him.
That I had to choose. But there had been another option all along.
I had just been too scared to even hope for it.
“There you are! I lost track of you for a bit, thought you and my son might have run off for an impromptu... foot massage.”
I looked up from the random chair I had dumped myself in to see Miss Angela.
She made quite the dignified picture, even if her formerly perfect coif was now unruly and a slight sheen of sweat covered her face.
However, I immediately noticed that she was leaning a bit heavier on her cane than she usually did, so I turned the closest chair out to face her.
“Please, sit down. And although my dogs are indeed barking, I’m afraid that your son and my husband”—God, it felt so amazing to finally be able to use that term!—“has been thoroughly monopolized by the nonnas.”
I pointed across the dance floor where Keith was seated between Nonna Bianchi and Nonna Rizoli. They were arguing spiritedly with each other while Keith sat, visibly amused, in the middle.
“He does get caught up in the funniest things, doesn’t he?” Miss Angela mused as she gratefully took the seat I offered. “I can go fetch him after a bit of a rest. No better way to save your man from a couple of ladies than with another old lady.”
I chuckled lightly, remembering how well his mother had gotten on with my grandmothers.
I shook my head. “No need. If they were hogging the groom, I would have to insist that it was my day. But he lasted nearly an hour on the dance floor with me, and I had to cook up that scenario so he’d sit down and catch his breath. ”
“Of course my son would try to keep up with a bunch of werewolves! Knowing him, he didn’t want you to feel lonely while you were out there cutting up a rug.”
“I’m sure, and oh, I mentioned this to Keith, but we really prefer the term shifters over werewolves. Not many of us will take offense to it, but... you know.”
“Shoot, I forgot. Keith did tell me. Old habits, ya know?”