29. Olivia #4
Those who had clustered the closest behind me were now in a mad dash to try to sprint after the flower missile, all of them getting in each other’s way and occasionally stumbling.
Those in the middle were also running, but instead of trying to untangle themselves from each other, it was more like they were all converging on wherever their brain estimated the bouquet would land.
And then there were the outfielders. I liked to think they were the ones who knew me best, knew that I was going to pelt that beautiful arrangement of various blooms as hard as I could.
They were the calmest of all of them, if only because they didn’t really have to scramble and could instead carefully calculate the best place for them to be to intercept the airborne bouquet.
It was a madhouse, an utter madhouse, and I was delighted when Keith started laughing with me. Was it the highest brow of humor? No. But he got me.
One of the many reasons why I loved him.
But, my practically perfect husband aside, I watched as the separate throngs of my pack members became less distinguishable and it was all a mass of enthusiastic Italian shifters trying to grab a bit of good luck.
I was grateful that neither Miss Angela nor Amanda was participating, because at this point, it wasn’t safe for humans.
It was wild and chaotic. It was perfectly imperfect in every way and only became more so as the bouquet finally began to descend, and my relatives started jumping for it.
By that point, it was nearly impossible to keep track of what happened. But then the triplets came out of nowhere, running up the backs of those who had jumped too soon and landed hard only to launch themselves impossibly high into the air.
One, two, three small hands made contact with the flying blossoms and when the trio landed together, there was utter silence.
Everyone stared, clearly shocked, and even the triplets looked startled, like they hadn’t thought about what to do if their plan succeeded.
But it was in that silence when I heard the voice of their mom, Vedette’s daughter, who was almost always desperately trying to catch a nap whenever her mother offered to watch them at family events.
“Athos, Porthosa, Aramia, put those flowers down!”
Wait… those are their names? Really?
“I thought they were called Moesha, Larry, and Curly?” Keith murmured from beside me.
“I could have sworn it was Ronnie, Bonnie, and Connie,” I mused right back.
“Some auntie you are.”
“The worst.”
The entire situation was hilarious, and I was sure we’d talk about it for days to come.
It got even better when someone dived for the triplets and they took off, tossing the bouquet between them anytime someone got close.
It was a parade of single people who were only half-seriously chasing down the three miscreants, and I could only hope that the photographers were filming and snapping all the pics.
It was pure, unadulterated chaos. People were laughing, falling over themselves, and diving after the whirling force of nature that was our own Italian version of the three wolf-sketeers. I looked to Keith, and he must have seen me move in his peripheral vision, because his gaze met mine.
“Welcome to the pack,” I murmured, tilting my face up to him. And just like I hoped, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him.
“Happy to be here.”
And then he kissed me.
I truly wished our own live reenactment of the Benny Hill theme could keep going forever, but eventually, the triplets acquiesced and gave the bouquet to someone else.
And by acquiesce, I meant they held an impromptu auction to the highest bidder who offered them not money, but rather an unlimited supply of triple chocolate fudge pops all summer.
Personally, I was sure that was gonna cost them more than the average college tuition, but their finances weren’t my business.
Once everyone was recovered from that whole fiasco, it was back to eating and the dance floor, although some people chose to combine both.
I didn’t, if only because I was too busy shouting the lyrics, or kissing my husband, or laughing like a madwoman.
In fact, the only moment when I wasn’t smiling like a loon was when I saw Amanda, who had been hanging with my grandmothers and playing with Rosemary and Oregano, get on the dance floor with Massimo.
And from the way she tipped her head back and belted out a laugh after he leaned forward to whisper something in her ear, something told me that maybe, just maybe, I should keep an eye on that.
After all, Amanda had been an incredible wing-woman to me. Maybe it was time to return the favor.
But that was a matter for the future, because all I wanted to do was celebrate. Keith and I were starting on our long journey together. There would be ups, and there would be downs, but I couldn’t wait to experience all of them at his side.
After we finished celebrating, of course. For now, all we had to do was dance.
And so dance we did.
All of us.
Together.