by Maria Herren
⇼
Several weeks later Simone was curled up on the couch when Charly walked in the door.
"Where've you been, Charly?" she asked.
"I had some things to pick up after class. What's the matter? Are you feeling okay? Charly asked.
"I'm fine," Simone said, but her face belied her words.
"Do you want me to make you something?" Charly asked, from the kitchen. "Some chicken noodle soup, maybe? With crackers? What's the matter with you? Did you fail a test or something?" Charly teased her.
''No, it came back positive pretty quickly," Simone responded, wryly.
"Well, if you didn't fail a test then I'd guess that we're both on the Dean's list!" Charly whooped, bringing a bag of chips, a bowl of salsa and a bottle of Tabasco sauce. Gleefully she dumped a bunch of the Tabasco sauce in the salsa and stirred it with a chip.
"Whhhhooooeee!" she exhaled, shaking her head. "It's not hot enough yet. What do you think?"
"I think I'm getting married in three weeks," Simone said.
There was a stunned silence.
"What are you talking about?" Charly asked, gently, her eyes wide with shock and concern.
"I got the official results this morning," Simone murmured, not looking at her.
"Awww, no. Sweetie, angel, are you sure?"
Simone lifted her head up and nodded slowly. "It's for sure. I'm pregnant, Charly."
"Oh. No. I'm so sorry, so sorry. Oh. God," Charly opened her arms and Simone ran into the circle. Charly felt Simone's tear on her own cheek. One. Then another hit her cheekbone and slowly made a path.
"Do you want some time to think about what you want to do?" Charly whispered.
''No. I'm sure. We're sure," Simone said, wiping her tears from Charly's face. "It's the right decision for me. For us, I mean. I wasn't sure until I told Vincenzo this morning. First he told me he loved me, then he asked me to marry him. He didn't hesitate for a second," she said with a small smile.
Charly took a deep breath. Her head was spinning. Everything she'd envisioned happening for her dearest friend had just changed. "Just because he loves you and you're pregnant is not enough reason to get married, Simone," Charly stammered breathlessly. "Are you ready for a baby in your life, and can you love Vincenzo back, for a lifetime?"
"That's a lot to ask from an emotional pregnant woman!" Simone said, shakily, wiping her eyes. "I'm scared, and nervous, and kind of excited, so ..."
Charly stared at her steadily, waiting for an answer.
"Well, it's not an auspicious beginning for Un Grande Amore, but yes, I'm in love with him and willing to commit," Simone said.
"Not just for the baby," Charly asked.
"I don't think so," Simone answered, honestly. "If our baby wasn't in the mix it definitely wouldn't happen this soon. I know it's not going to be easy."
The room was very, very still as the two young women looked at each other. "Can I wait a little longer to tell my parents?" Simone pleaded.
"Yes, you can wait a little longer," Charly answered, stroking her friend's hair.
⇼
The conversation with her parents occurred that evening. "I just want to see what they're doing this weekend, Vincenzo says he'll go home with me and we can tell them together," Simone said. "Hold my hand, anyway, Charly, my mom can always tell when I'm upset."
Charly held her hand through the conversation, clutching it so hard at some points her knuckles were white. It wasn't an easy conversation on either end.
"What happened?" Charly asked softly.
"Mom is going to tell dad. They were going to call me tonight to tell me about his new promotion. They'll be relocated in the next few weeks, so she's doing what she can to get the house in order. She was crying really hard. She wants to know where the wedding's going to be."
Charly felt like her heart would burst. "I hadn't thought of that," she said, softly. "How exciting to be married in Italy! If you decide to say your vows there I'm sorry I won't be able to witness it."
"What, are you kidding me? Do you think I'd get married without my best friend being there? Vincenzo's family has offered to pay for all of the American guests," Simone said.
Simone had spoken the words very matter-of-factly but with a dull resonance.
Charly put her arms around her and began to rock. "Oh, baby," she whispered, softly stroking Simone's beautiful red hair. "It will all be okay. I promise."
It was a promise that Charly worked very hard to keep. The next day she went to Barnes and Noble and bought every magazine she could find on style for brides. Simone agreed that she wanted a dress that was fashionable but not flashy, flattering, and with enough style to please Vincenzo's distinctly European taste.
Once they'd gotten an initial idea for a design, they searched out a professional. With the design in his capable hands it began to take shape.
"Ahhh," he'd sigh. "Such a vision you are!" he mumbled around the pins in his mouth.
"You're gorgeous! Drop dead, I flatter you not, gorgeous!" Charly echoed.
"Do you really think I look good?" Simone asked, insecure, tossing a handful of her hair over her shoulder and swiveling her slim hips toward the mirror.
"You're truly beautiful, Simone, and the veil is lovely on you. It makes you look slightly mysterious but still innocent."
It was a veil that Simone had chosen from several in his shop to try on with the dress and at those words he chimed into the conversation. “Yes! It works very, very nice for you! I think it has just the right length, and your eyes, yes, I think it is perfect for your beautiful eyes!"
"How much is the veil?" Simone asked.
"It is not so much. Sometimes, we have it on sale, but unfortunately at this time that is not the case," he answered, slyly.
"Okay. Okay. How much is it, today?" Simone asked, laughing.
⇼
Vincenzo's family had offered to pay the airfare for the American guests. It was a generous offer and it was well received by friends and family. He and Simone were leaving for Italy a month before the actual wedding. They were at the airport with Charly when Simone showed Charly the guest list.
"What are you thinking?" Charly demanded.
"He didn't have to accept!" Simone said, shrugging her shoulders. "He's taken his exams early and he's looking forward to seeing you again."
"You didn't! You wouldn't! You couldn't have!" Charly sputtered.
"We did," Simone smiled.
"You hate me," Charly said, helplessly.
"We love you!" Simone said, reaching out and dragging her close for a warm hug.
⇼
It had been difficult, meeting Vincenzo's parents under the circumstances. However, both of his parents were welcoming and open and friendly. They seemed genuinely happy to meet her, although no one mentioned the baby.
"Do they know?" she whispered to Vincenzo late one night.
"Know what?" he asked.
"Do they know about the baby?" she said, softly.
"Yes, of course," he responded, sleepily. "My mother hopes that she gets your beautiful red hair."
"She? I think it's a boy!" Simone declared.
"Could be, sugar, my mama always wanted a little girl to spoil, that's all. Go to sleep, now. Don't worry. Ti amo, bellisima," he said, drawing her close against him.
"I love you, too, Vincenzo," she whispered. She closed her eyes and dreamed of little girls.
⇼
Simone had studied hard and fast to learn some words and phrases in Italian, and her efforts had paid off. His family and friends were charmed by her. There were so many uncles, aunts and cousins, to meet but she was surprised at how many of them spoke passable English. Everyone went out of their way to make her comfortable, yet she still counted the days until Charly and Eric's arrival.
Finally it was the day when she would see her friend, again. It was a beautiful day filled with sunshine. Standing with Vincenzo at the airport he looked down at her and smiled. "I'm sure I wouldn'
t have found you on my own," he said, tightening his arms around her and drawing her close. "I'll always thank Charly for bringing us together."
She looked up at him and the face that she adored was warm with feeling. "You really do love me, don't you?" she said, somewhat in surprise.
His grip loosened and he held her from him. He studied her face and there were too many hurts written there that he'd never known and couldn't understand. He kissed her gently on the nose. "Yes. I do love you," he murmured. "You, our baby, our life together."
Simone knew it was true. He kissed her softly on the lips and gathered her close. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his warmth.
When Charly and Eric came through the gate they were both struck by the tableaux. Other travelers circled around them while they stood still in their tracks.
"There's a sight you don't get to see very often," Eric said appreciatively to Charly.
"Hey! That's Simone!" Charly yelled.
That's the way it should be, Eric said to himself, shouldering the bags as Charly ran to her friends.
Six
The wedding was extraordinarily beautiful, although there was an undercurrent to the union that was palpable. More than a few of Vincenzo's friends and family were unhappy at his choice of an American wife. There was much talk among them as to why the announcement was followed so quickly by the wedding. It was Catrina, Vincenzo's on and off girlfriend of many years who sparked most of the fires. Charly watched her dart vicious looks at Simone's belly, then knowing looks to various women around the cathedral.
The cathedral was called Monreale. It was magnificent. Built a thousand years earlier on the top of one of the highest mountains in Sicily. Many of the intricate mosaics were etched in gold, and the light coming through the stained glass windows caught the gold and reflected a golden light around the couple.
Eric was oblivious to the undercurrents and was caught up in the beauty of the ceremony. It was obvious to him how much the pair loved each other and he said a silent prayer, asking for a blessing on the two of them. Charly stood quietly beside him and he held her hand. Looking down at her he could see a vein pulsing in her neck and he marveled at the woman she'd become. He felt like the luckiest unmarried man in the cathedral, to be standing next to her.
Later they threw rice together as the newlyweds ran down the steps. Charly noticed that Catrina threw nothing. Charly was silently glad that she was there for her friend when she saw the angry glare that Catrina gave the departing couple.
That's one pissed bitch, she thought.
⇼
It was the reception that everyone talked about. Simone was so beautiful on Vincenzo's arm that even Charly was impressed. Standing like the red-headed beauty that she is! Charly thought to herself.
She looked around, admiring her surroundings. There were pure white Casablanca lilies in the uplifted centerpieces on the tables, surrounded by the pink Crown Vetch which blossomed gracefully over and draped itself around the trailing ivy. Candles set on mirrors dusted with rose petals were at the base of each centerpiece. The perfume from the lilies filled the room.
Prior to the main meal the guests were able to choose from tables laden with an assortment of warm breads, cheeses that ranged from Gruyere to slivers of Parmigiano Reggiano and creamy fondue. Vegetables were erudite or lightly steamed. Charly's favorite was the white asparagus with butter and garlic sauce. There were oysters and steamed clams and lobster tails.
And champagne. Lots of champagne. Expensive champagne. After she tasted her first glass of champagne Charly said, "That's only bubbles!"
When she took her seat the waiter presented her with a choice of pasta dishes. Charly chose the angel hair pasta with red sauce, shrimp and scallops. It was a table for twelve and she nodded politely at the other guests. Vincenzo's mother had been unyielding in her demand that there would be both American and Italian guests at every table. So far she was the only American at hers, and she waited patiently for Eric to show himself. The other seats at the table began to fill, and she smiled every time a seat was taken. There were several different languages being spoken around the table. She recognized Spanish and French, as well as Italian.
Carlo Carruci stood and watched her from the bar. Vincenzo had told him all about Charly. How funny she was. How smart she was. He didn't mention how pretty she is! he said to himself. He probably didn't really notice, being so much in love himself. He was truly intrigued by the young American woman who had enough poise to enjoy herself without a companion.
The music was lively and fun and several couples had left the table to dance, and Charly was enjoying watching them. Simone suddenly appeared at her elbow, catching Charly by surprise. "Come outside with me!' Simone said, heading for the open French doors.
On the terrace the breeze from the ocean was cool and refreshing. Simone angled her face into the wind. "This is too good to be true, isn't it?" she sighed. They watched the lights pass beneath them from the small boats of the fisherman, signaling each other to pass. "Am I really this lucky? Is all of this real?" Simone asked, removing the pins that held her tangle of red hair, shaking it back over her shoulders.
"It's real, Rapunzel. I'm so happy for you," Charly said, smiling at her friend. The moment of enjoyment was broken by the arrival of Catrina Carruci and her entourage of friends. Catrina had been a serious girlfriend of Vincenzo's, on and off, for many years. Her brother, Carlo, had told her that Vincenzo was dating an American girl, but she'd never thought it would go this far. She was viciously angry.
"So!" she said, ignoring Charly and positioning herself directly in front of Simone. "This is the woman that Vincenzo has finally chosen!" she said with disdain. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm the one that he did not choose. For what I think are very obvious reasons!" she finished, giving a pointed look to Simone's midsection. With a languid grace she extended her hand.
Her English was perfect. Her spitefulness even more clear. Most of the group surrounding Catrina could understand some of the words, but everyone understood the insult.
Simone automatically reached to take Catrina's extended hand.
"Don't touch her," Charly said, with a tone as quietly venomous as Catrina's eyes. Simone slowly let her hand fall.
Charly stepped forward, quick and lithe as a cat, to position herself between the two women. She made sure that all of Catrina's friends could see her face. "I'm the woman who needs to meet you," she said, grasping Catrina's hand firmly. The two of them exchanged a hard stare and Charly's eyes flashed brilliant green fire.
"Please allow me to introduce you to Vincenzo's wife," Charly said, softly.
Catrina immediately recognized her danger of being in bad form. It was with some reluctance and a little respect that she took up the gauntlet of graciousness.
"My name is Catrina Carruci. Welcome to Italy."
⇼
Eric stood quickly when Charly came back in the room. "Where've you been?" he asked, taking her hand and sweeping her around in a circle. "I missed you! May I have the first dance?"
She was so light in his arms that it felt as natural as breathing. The ballroom steps that they'd learned separately became much less foreign when they worked them together. Neither noticed when the other dancers stood back to give them more room.
The music changed tempo and they easily switched style. Observant by nature, Eric realized that he was no longer keeping the count of the music in his head. He was surprised to find how easily his body responded to her fluid movements. The heat of her body and the smell of her skin was intoxicating. She's too beautiful to be real, he thought, softly stroking her dark hair.
Against his will the music ended.
She smiled up at him, slightly out of breath. "Come on! The chef is at our table!"
On the way to their table Eric wondered exactly when he'd fallen in love with her. He watched her while the chef described their options for various fresh sauces on their choice of pasta. He watched her while the chef describ
ed the sauces. She had excelled in her Italian lessons at the University, but she was still a beginner and her vocabulary was limited. The chef had some knowledge of English, yet it took several animated minutes for them to agree on her order.
"What did you order us?" he asked.
"I'm pretty sure I ordered my pasta Con Le Sarde. He says it's a Sicilian specialty and that no one prepares it as well as he does!" Charly said, leaning her head back and laughing.
Eric admired the length of her throat. "Terrific. What did you order for me?"
"Prime rib. More brown than pink, with some green beans and potatoes," she said.
"What's Italian about that?" he asked.
"Nothing! You look, as the chef said, ‘so very much American’, he wanted to make sure you'd get something that you'd enjoy," Charly explained.
"That was nice of him," Eric said. "Beef is always my first choice."
⇼
He took in her profile while she listened intently to one of the guests who was struggling to express himself. She does that with everyone, he thought. She blocks out everything else to give her total focus. She makes everyone feel important.
Finally the old gentleman came to the end of his story and was rewarded by Charly's warm laughter. He looked so proudly around the table that Eric was tempted to laugh.
Something made him turn in his chair. His sharp eyes searched through the crowd and found the figure of a man standing across the room who was totally focused on Charly. Eric knew the look. It was more than interest. It was fascination. The man felt the strength of his stare and returned it.
He was a large man. Tall, by Sicilian standards, with wide shoulders. His jet black hair was white at the temples. He rolled a fat cigar lazily between his long and slender fingers.
