I stood. “It would be my honor.”
We took the floor again, and Danielle and Ron nodded at us and swirled away. Ron dipped Danielle and she kicked her leg high.
“We don’t need to do that.” Cassandra smiled.
I agreed.
“You know what we do need?”
She shook her head. “What?”
“We need a wedding.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The amphitheater was packed to the rafters and there weren’t even any rafters. It was Pro Bowl Sunday and many of the passengers were tucked into bars and in the main theater where they were showing the game. But maybe it said something about the crowd on this cruise because most of the passengers were dressed up for a wedding.
Flowers rimmed the stage and the backdrop. Where they had come from I had no idea. Perhaps they kept a stock of flowers in the cool room for emergencies. Captain Sterling looked stunning in his white uniform. It was blinding and sharp and nearly stole the thunder from the bride.
Nearly but not quite. The bride wore a cream-colored dress that had come from one of the boutiques on board. She held a bouquet of carnations, and she was beaming. There’s something about a woman’s skin that has the capability to do that. It’s more than makeup. It comes from within. I’d seen men gushing with pride as their bride came down the aisle and they sure looked happy, but they didn’t radiate the way a woman did.
At least, not the way this woman did. She was radiant. The afternoon was getting on and the sun was ahead of us as we made our way back to Florida, so the ocean glowed a deep blue backdrop behind the stage. I lifted my chin and took a deep breath. I looked good in my new tuxedo, courtesy of the cruise line. Their tailor did good work. It did what a fine tux should do. It made me both look good and fade into the background, all at the same time. I took another breath. I didn’t want to mess up. I really didn’t want to mess up.
There was no aisle, but there were a lot of stairs. From the back of the amphitheater looking down the steps it looked like the view a ski jumper has at the top of the run.
A brass ensemble was set up on the side of the stage, and they hit the first notes of the Bridal Chorus. I wondered how Wagner felt about saxophones and trumpets. I offered my arm and the bride wrapped hers around it and we took our first careful step. I wasn’t sure if it qualified as a congregation when it was in an amphitheater big enough to hold the orca show at Sea World, but every head turned to us. It was the biggest crowd I had stood in front of since my final game of baseball.
All eyes tracked us as we made our way down the steps. We dropped into a time so that we stepped together, and I provided support, since I wasn’t reckless enough to risk wearing high heels like the bride.
I thought for a moment the music might finish before we even got halfway down, but someone had thought ahead. The band took a collective breath, more for effect than anything and then broke into Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours). A cat in a sparkling blue jacket jumped up and hit the lyrics. He didn’t look much like like Stevie Wonder but he sure could belt out that tune. I arched an eyebrow at the bride. She winked.
By the time we got to the bottom of the amphitheater, the crowd was clapping to the beat, bopping in place like it was a Paul Simon concert. We made our way up to the stage as the band hit the final notes. I nodded to the captain. He smiled like a priest, which I knew he wasn’t. When I had approached him the previous evening with my idea, he had been more receptive than expected. But it seemed I had done enough for him and his cruise line that he was willing to repay the favor. Plus I got the distinct impression he was an old romantic.
He had warned me that the old wives’ tale about ship’s captains being able to marry people at sea was just that, a tale. That had put a crinkle in my plan until he informed me that he was also a civil celebrant, and as such could perform the ceremony once we reached US waters and as long as the official documents were signed upon returning to dock in Palm Beach.
Captain Sterling nodded. I led the bride forward so she could drop my arm and take Ron’s. She offered me another beaming smile. I nodded to Ron. He was beaming as well, but his radiance didn’t come from within. Too many Florida summers had given him a permanent crimson tinge, but he sure did look happy with himself.
The captain stepped to the mic and gave the audience a moment to settle.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered on this fine vessel today to witness the marriage of Cassandra and Ronald. Who gives this woman to be married?”
It was a terribly old-fashioned thing to ask, especially, but not limited to the fact, that the Lady Cassandra sure as hell wasn’t mine to give away. But she and Ron had asked it to be so, and I figured it was just a tradition that they weren’t over.
“I do,” I said.
The captain turned to Ron’s side.
“And who gives this man to be married?”
The traditionalists were turning over in their graves now, but I kind of liked it. If the woman was given away, why not the man?
Danielle looked breathtaking. She was wearing a long dress the color of the ocean as it moves from the reef to the deep, a regal blue that she and Cassandra had selected and that took my breath away. She smiled that half smile and looked at me.
“I do,” she said.
I almost lost motor control of my legs, but I managed to back away and leave the bride and groom to their business.
The captain said some nice words. I think. I was watching Danielle. She was watching Cassandra and wiping tears from her eyes. Then the captain asked Danielle if she had hers, and me if I had mine.
We both stepped forward and handed over the symbols of a commitment to a life to be lived. It was a good start. There would be bad times. Life was no kind of perfect game. There were runs and hits and groundouts. Good and bad. Smiles and tears. But I hoped the smiles would outweigh the tears. I glanced down at the audience and saw Anastasia Connors. She sat rigid, chin held high. A Russian aristocrat. She might have just lost her husband or won the lottery. I couldn’t say from her demeanor. I hoped she found a smile somewhere, even if it was only on the inside.
Danielle and I stepped back and our eyes connected. Hers were filled with tears of joy. I had no such tears. I was sure I was capable of them, but I rarely reacted to happiness that way.
“Ronald, do you take Cassandra to be yours, to cherish and hold from this moment, and for all moments to come?”
For a second I thought he wasn’t going to be able to answer. Unlike me, Ron was a cryer. I could see a lump in his throat the size of a baseball. He nodded fervently but I didn’t think that satisfied the legal side of the proceedings.
“I do,” he managed to say. He took the silver necklace with the small claw of a stone crab at the end of it and placed it around Cassandra’s neck. They both already wore wedding rings that neither of them cared to remove. The memories held within those rings were neither sad nor to be forgotten. They both had pasts and both were just fine with that. Plus we’d all had enough of rings for a while. No one else they knew had stone crab claws.
“And, Cassandra, do you take Ronald to be yours, to cherish and hold from this moment, and for all moments to come?”
“I do.” She hung the necklace around Ron’s neck and lingered there for a moment.
I could see tears in the corners of her eyes too, but she was a different model of vehicle from Ron. They didn’t seem to make her kind anymore. Stiff upper lip and all that. Having known her for a while, I couldn’t help but think the world was poorer for it.
“Then I have the joyful responsibility to tell you that by the power vested in me by the great state of Florida, I pronounce you husband and wife.”
The captain glanced at Cassandra and grinned.
“You may kiss the groom.”
The band wasted no time in kicking up again. They broke into Only You by the Platters, which set the crowd off swaying and clapping as the happy couple wasted no time and got straight into their
first dance. They had the spotlight for a verse and then the singer invited everyone to join in.
I took Danielle’s hand and we hit the floor, joined by a number of other couples, friends of the newlyweds, offering congratulations. Other people just danced in the aisles. Crew brought around trays of champagne. I was confident that the free drinks weren’t going to last all night, but I was happy to wait for later and pay for my own. Right at that moment, I had business to take care of, and I wasn’t letting her go for all the bubbles in France.
We danced for an hour. The sun fell low and the champagne flowed and I didn’t have any of it. I was intoxicated by something else. Life, perhaps. One of the good days. The ones you capture in photographs and keep in a drawer and then pull out one day when you’re searching for socks or a passport or lip balm, and you look at it and you sit on your bed for an hour reliving every damned moment of it. It was one of those days.
And then BJ Baker ruined it.
I was off to the side watching Danielle dance with some guy who may have come over on the Mayflower. His back was as crooked as a mobster, but he was on his feet and giving it a red-hot go, so I had nothing further to say. BJ drifted over with a scotch in hand. As I watched him, I thought about how unfair life could be. BJ was as healthy as a Grand National winner while Adrian Pascal’s brain was exiting out the back door. Same game. Same hits.
“Jones.”
“What do you want, BJ?”
“Nice ceremony.”
It had been a nice ceremony, and I supposed that was the kind of small talk people made at weddings. But there were a thousand people within a football field’s worth of space. Why couldn’t he small-talk with them?
“I heard you organized all this.”
“A lot of people helped organize this.”
For a moment we said nothing.
“You know, Jones, you get in my craw.”
“There is a God.”
“But I have to admit, you do know how to look after your people.”
“They’re called friends, BJ. It’s what we do for each other.”
“Whatever, Jones. Listen, that kid you were talking about yesterday. The one with the granddaddy in Pittsburgh.”
“Yeah.”
“You know his name?”
I did know his name. Army had told me.
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Wagner,” I said.
BJ turned from me and took out his cell phone and hit a contact.
“You might want to watch those ship-to-shore calls,” I said. “They cost a bomb.”
BJ shrugged. “Fox Sports gets the bill.”
He connected the call and practically shouted down the phone.
“Milt. No, still here. Listen, I need you to fix something. We were supposed to do a cross to a hospital during the last Pittsburgh game. Yeah, the whiteout game. You know what hospital that was? No? Find out. I want to do a piece this week, for the Super Bowl coverage. Yeah, that’s it. Human interest thing. There’s an old guy in the hospital, he’s a huge football fan, sick as a dog. His name?”
BJ glanced at me.
“Wagner.”
“Yeah, Milt. Wagner. Set it up. I wanna meet the old guy, do some on-camera. I’ll fly up tomorrow. Gotta be back for the game, Milt. Good. You’ll make it happen? Good man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
BJ hung up and put his phone away and then turned and looked at me.
“What do you think just happened?”
I shrugged. “You called your manager to set up a doctor’s appointment? I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. None of my business.”
“Damned right, none of your business.”
“You okay, BJ? You look pale.”
“I can still take you, Jones.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Remember that,” he said, and he turned and strode away.
“I’ll remember, BJ,” I said to myself. “You’re still hard as nails. A real tough guy.”
I watched the captain dancing with the bride, who he twirled into the groom’s waiting arms. Then the captain retreated to his perch above us all. He also had business to attend to. Like docking a big ship without crashing the damned thing. And as his name implied, he did a sterling job of it. The music was still going when the lines were cast and the gangway dropped onto the dock.
The passengers and crew lined the decks as the newlyweds disembarked first. Rice rained down as if a tornado had hit a paddy field. The gulls swooped in. Ron and Cassandra waved to the cheering friends and strangers.
Then, a pair of US customs and border patrol officers strode up to the happy couple. Even in the midst of a wedding, they had a job to do. I thought they could give it a pass, but they generally weren’t as carefree about these things as I was. To their credit though, once they gave the passports a stern look, both officers gave the bride a kiss, and one gave Ron a peck on the cheek for good measure.
The happy couple’s chariot awaited. I had called Sal Mondavi. He knew a lot of people with a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. I had asked if he could rustle up a limo. He had said he could. He had lied. What he had rustled up was a horse-drawn carriage. Two white ponies nibbled at hay being offered by Muriel, who had clearly left the bar at Longboard Kelly’s unattended. I figured she would be safe. All her best customers were here. She gave both Ron and Cassandra a big smooch. Mick stood beside her, furtively glancing at the border patrol like they were his sworn enemy, and offered hearty handshakes to the newlyweds.
The driver helped Ron and Cassandra up into the carriage and they waved like the king and queen of Florida as they rode away into what was now, quite literally, the sunset.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The house was quiet. No hammering, no sawing. It seemed Paco had packed up and gone home for the day. The place looked clean and new and smelled vaguely of sawdust. I dropped my bag in the living room and then went back out to retrieve Ron and Cassandra’s luggage from the SUV. When I got there, I remembered that not everyone traveled as light as I did, so I left their cases in the back of the Cadillac. I’d drive them over tomorrow.
As I closed the door I heard Danielle say, “Um, MJ.”
“Yep.”
She was standing in the kitchen, looking at a piece of paper.
“What is it?”
“It’s a note. From the contractor, Danny Rucci.”
“What needs fixing now?”
“Nothing. He says Paco’s done.”
I stopped and looked around. Nothing looked different. But then, to my eye it had looked done for weeks.
“So what’s next?”
“Nothing.” She looked up from the note. “They’re done. Finished. Completed.”
“The house is done?”
Danielle smiled and nodded. She picked up the keys that Danny had left on the counter. I gave her my impressed face, and then turned in place. The house looked brand new, like a show home, as if a hurricane had never even contemplated roaring through. The recessed lights shone down on the wood-look tile. The white beadboard kitchen gleamed. It looked like a beautiful home.
It didn’t look like my place at all.
“Danny says the last job to do is in the refrigerator.”
“The fridge? Is it broken?”
Danielle opened the fridge and then turned around with a smile.
“What?”
She stood up, holding a cold bottle of champagne.
“He’s a class act, that Danny,” I said.
“Grab some glasses,” she said. “Let’s take it outside.”
“Nothing to sit on, remember? The loungers got moved back into the garage while they did the patio.”
“We’ll sit on the grass then.”
I said nothing. At such times I find it best just to do what I’m told. I grabbed two flutes from the kitchen and stepped out onto the patio.
Danielle stood looking at the two loungers and the small table between them. A card sat on on
e of them. Danielle picked it up.
“Welcome home, love Sal.”
That was Sal. Danielle handed me the champagne bottle to uncork.
“You do know some very unusual people,” she said.
I nodded as I tore the foil.
“But they sure do care about you.”
“Us,” I said, and I let the cork fly with a pop.
I poured two glasses, and we sat down on the loungers. They were pointed across the darkened Intracoastal waters, and the lights of Riviera Beach beyond. I handed Danielle a flute and held up mine. She looked into my eyes.
“What shall we toast?” I asked.
“Happy endings, and happy beginnings.”
We touched glasses.
“You did good work today,” she said. “You might have a future as a wedding planner.”
“I had a lot of help. Porter knows everything that happens on that ship.”
“You know when we were up on the stage with Ron and Cassandra? I thought for a second you might pull something.”
“Pull something? Like a hamstring?”
“No, like a stunt. Like pulling out a ring and making it a double wedding.”
“Are you sorry I didn’t?”
“No. It was Ron and Cassandra’s day. It’s just the kind of thing you would do.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the thought did cross my mind.”
“But it was Ron and Cassandra’s moment.”
I shrugged. “It was. But it wasn’t really that.”
She frowned, the little line appearing between her eyebrows. “What else?”
“I thought about how I was giving away Cassandra and you were giving away Ron.”
“I liked that.”
“I did too. But you have someone who should do that.”
She sighed. “My dad?”
“Sure.”
“He won’t travel, or can’t travel. I told you that.”
“I know. But we can.”
Her face went blank. I couldn’t read it. It was one of those law enforcement faces that says they could lock you up for a thousand years or let you go, they wouldn’t care either way.
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