by Mj Fields
“What if I need help zipping?” I have no idea why I said that, but I did.
“You want me to wait?” He looks at me curiously.
“No. I’ll be fine.” I make my way to the bathroom, dress and baggy in hand. It’s huge, the bathroom is huge. It’s the size of the cabin, maybe bigger. I look at the shower, then throw my clothes the rest of the way off and quickly jump in. I can take two minutes to shower, I decide. It is my wedding day, after all.
The water is hot and the soaps—all three kinds—smell like heaven. I pick the one that smells like vanilla and scrub my body. The important parts get extra attention. I find a razor and decide to rid myself of the ‘landing strip.’ A few quick swipes of the blade and it’s gone. I am bare, just like he said he wanted. I don’t have time to wash my hair, so I don’t.
Next, I dry off and grab the baggy. White lacey boy shorts and a matching bustier fall out. I fasten the bustier around me, then spin it front-ways. This is when I notice that there are no cups. I feel ridiculous, but when I look in the mirror, I don’t feel ridiculous anymore—I feel sexy. I notice then that the counter has been lined with cosmetics and hair products. Everything is perfect.
This is the most beautifully messed up fairytale, and I am living it.
Quickly, I let my hair out of the clip and blow-dry my hair. I roll the back into something like a French twist and fasten it with bobby pins from the counter. I tease the top and smooth it. Somehow it looks elegant, despite the rush job.
I take some mascara and swipe my lashes three times, then use the liner to line just the top lid. I apply just a touch of lip-gloss and powder my nose. I look at the dress and shake my head. It’s stunning and I will be wearing it. I grab the deodorant off the counter and apply it, then turn back to the dress.
Once dressed, I walk out of the bedroom and find a pair of shoes. I don’t have to look at the label to know they are expensive. That’s it, I officially feel like Cinderella. Although I know this wedding is just for show, I am going to enjoy it and allow myself to believe it’s real.
I look up and walk to the mirror, turning slowly checking myself out. I hope Sabato thinks I’m beautiful. I hope he wants to cut the night short, because he is so hard he can’t wait to be inside me. That’s almost as good as love, I suppose.
I look up as the door opens and it’s Valentina slipping in.
“Wow, you look amazing,” she says with a smile as she comes towards me. “I brought a bag full of things, in case Sabato forgot something. But...looks like he remembered everything, except a necklace and earrings. I also have this.” She shakes my bottle of medication. “And this.” She holds up birth control pills and smiles.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” I say, honestly.
“You’re doing a good thing.” She smiles. It irritates me.
“I’m doing it because it’s what he wants.”
“And needs.” She counters.
“Tell me Valentina, why are you doing this for him?”
She looks shocked.
“Probably for the same reason you are.” There is a bit of a bite to her delivery.
“Just so you know, he won’t be banging you in the bathroom again. While he and I are married, I’ll be the only one bent over the counter.”
“Is that so?” She half laughs, half looks at me as if she feels sorry for me, like I’m slow or stupid.
“Yes, it is.” I nod. “Thanks for everything, but I assure you, I have it from here.”
“Melyssa, I am not your enemy.” She shakes her head. “On the contrary, I may be the only one in you and Sabato’s corner, when all is said and done tonight.”
“He’s the only person I need in my corner,” I say, with wavering conviction at best.
“I don’t want him. He’s a great fuck.” Her words slap me in the face and I close my eyes. “But he is not my end-all-be-all Mel and he’s not yours.”
The door opens and Sabato comes in. “Are you ready?”
I nod, without looking into his eyes.
“Che diavolo gli hai detto?” He speaks to Valentina. I don’t know what he is saying, but he seems angry.
“Solo la verita,” she says back, obviously in Italian.
“La verità di chi Valentina? Tu non sai la mia verità!”
He walks up to me and I see her look at him, then at me and back and forth again. She laughs. “Sei innamorato.”
“Valentina,” he snaps.
She grabs my face and smiles. “Non so come hai fatto.”
“Fuori di qui, ora!” he snaps at her.
She smiles at me again, kisses my cheeks, and whispers in my ear, “Enjoy that counter. You look beautiful.”
As soon as she leaves, Sabato and I look at each other.
“What did she say?” comes out of both of us, at the same time.
“Okay, I feel like I’m in the ‘Twilight Zone’ here. Speak English, please.”
“Let’s go. Our guests are waiting.”
We walk out hand in hand and Nikki and Paige are there. They both look to be in total shock and I am in shock because a: I didn’t expect this b: I definitely didn’t expect this! If anyone could see through me, it was them.
My stomach skips, as I realize this is going to be a mistake.
I feel Sabato’s hand squeeze mine and then he casually walks us up to a man I don’t recognize.
The man immediately starts talking and of course I have no clue what he is saying. But I am standing in front of him, face to face with Sabato and he is holding my hands.
Behind us, I hear Paige whisper, “What the hell is going on? Is Mel gonna be part of the entertainment?”
Oh, of course they don’t know why they’re here. I can’t help but laugh. I look at her and wink.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, much too loudly. “I know that look, you gave it up!”
My jaw drops and I feel my face turn a million different shades of pink.
Sabato’s grip on my hands tightens, but I refuse to look up from the floor.
“Grazie per Essere Venuti a sostenere l'Unione di Sabato e Melyssa.” The man in front of us is talking to everyone now and I giggle inside and look up, just a peek. His face is stone, so clearly he must not speak English.
“Sono incaricato dallo sposo per mantenerlo breve e semplice, proprio come il loro corteggiamento,” he continues.
I hear a man’s booming laugh from near the doorway. He’s attractive, tall dark and handsome—just like the rest of the men in the room. He has a blonde girl snuggled up against him and he is whispering in her ear as she giggles.
“Zandor Steel,” Sabato whispers to me, “A friend.”
“What the hell is going on here, Sabato?” Now it’s Abe’s voice interrupting the poor, serious Italian guy.
The officiant interrupts, “Sabato vuoi accogliere Melyssa come tua sposa nel Signore?”
“E 'il mio onore e apparentemente mio privilegio,” Sabato says, looking at me sternly. “I do.”
‘I do.’ I can’t help but smile at the words. I hear all sorts of gasps and then Nikki and Paige’s voices arguing quietly. But I pay no attention to what they say. ‘I do’ is all I can hear, or think, or feel. He does.
“Melyssa vuoi accogliere Sabato come tuo sposo nel Signore?”
Sabato squeezes my hands when I don’t reply, then he nods toward the man I now recognize as some kind of officiant. “English for her, please.”
“Do you take this man to be your husband, to honor, respect and love?”
Sabato’s jaw tightens and twitches at the ‘L’ word and my stomach squeezes.
Suddenly, the whispers are all I can hear. The room seems cavernous and stifling at the same time. I feel like I’m on display, naked and cold. My throat instantly turns as dry as the Sahara.
“I do.” Somehow, I squeeze out the words. When I do, a warm feeling of relief rushes through me—or maybe it’s something else, stronger than relief.
Sabato pulls two wedding bands from his
suit pocket and pushes one on my finger. He hands me his and I do the same.
“Puoi baciare la sposa. Kiss her!” Finally, the officiant’s solemn face breaks and he laughs.
The room is half laughs, half roars. I am all smiles as Sabato’s arms surround me and he lifts me. We are eye to eye when he whispers, “Thank you,” so that only I can hear. Then he kisses me, as if I am the only other one in the room.
When I am dizzy and Elsa is cranking up the AC in Arendelle, he sets me on my feet.
“You prepared for the inquisition?”
“Bring it on.”
“Signore e signori, il signor e la signora Sabato Efisto.”
I release one of her hands and look at the waiter. “Serve dinner now, please.”
The officiate walks over and sets the papers on a table. “Who is signing as a witness?”
“Zandor, will you do me the honor?”
“Hell yes I will,” he says. He comes up and pats me on the back, very hard. “You didn’t just drink the water, man, you fell into it. When you come up for a breath, the four of us need to do some traveling.”
I smile to be polite, but I’m pretty sure Melyssa and I won’t be traveling anywhere for a while yet.
I look at Melyssa, who is gesturing excitedly to her friends. Abe’s girl seems angry, but the other girl—Paige—only seems to be wildly amused.
“Pick one of them to sign, as a witness.”
“What?” Melyssa gasps.
“One of your friends needs to sign,” I say again, as I watch them both approach.
“Oh boy,” she mumbles.
“Pick Paige,” I whisper in her ear. “She seems less angry.”
This makes her laugh. It also makes her look at my lips. For the sake of the show, I kiss her. For the sake of how good her lips taste, I do it again.
“Get a room,” Zandor chuckles.
“You’re in my room, Steel.” I attempt to joke back.
“Which one of you wants to be my witness?” Melyssa asks in a sweet little voice.
“Witness to what exactly, Mel? Do you care to explain how two of your best friends since childhood had no idea you were dating anyone? And now we just witnessed you marry into the fucking mob?” Nikki snaps at her.
“I’m not in the mob,” I snarl back.
“Easy Sabato,” Abe warns. “You don’t want to talk to her like that. Trust me.”
I laugh, because it’s funny shit, but Melyssa gives me a pleading look.
“Noted, O’Donnell,” I look at Nikki. “But how about you also keep that same respect in mind, when you speak to my wife.”
“A minute, Melyssa?” Nikki points over her shoulder.
I look at Paige and then the paper. She brushes past me and whispers, “You hurt her and a dead horse in a bed will seem like nothing compared to what I do to your dick.”
Then she grabs the pen and signs.
Nikki turns on her immediately. “Are you fucking stupid, Paige?”
“Hold on there, chick,” she laughs.
“No you hold on, Chick,” Nikki snarls at her.
“Chick says butt out. She’s an adult, sober, seems pretty damn in love.... I mean, think about her dating past. Can you say train wreck?”
“Okay, both of you!” Melyssa takes the pen and signs the paper, then hands it over her shoulder to me. “I’m married. Look, nothing anyone can do to take that away now, so—”
“He’s wanted for questioning for his father’s murder,” Nikki points out.
“Well, good fucking riddance to the asshole,” Melyssa snaps back.
“Okay ladies,” Zandor steps in then. “And Abe—”
“Fuck you, Steel.” Abe rounds on him and I try to hide my amusement.
“Am I late?” I look behind me to see Signora Josephina Steel barge into the room.
“No Momma Joe, just in time.” Zandor goes over and gives her a kiss on each cheek.
She laughs. “So what problem can I help solve?”
“Just in time,” Valentina greets her with a kiss.
“Zandor causing problems?” Joe asks.
“No Sabato and Melyssa are married. Abe and the girls think it’s a hoax.”
“Is that so?” Josephina laughs and walks over to me. “Complimenti. Trattare il suo bene e noi non saremo in grado di dire che l'avevo detto.”
“Of course.”
“I really need to learn Italian,” Melyssa grumbles.
“I prefer if you don’t.”
Signora Steel laughs, then she gives Melyssa a hug. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Mel, now!” Nikki is still waiting.
“Can we wait for another day, ladies? This is her wedding day,” Signora. Steel says, as she sits down at the table. “Mangiamo, let’s eat.”
Zandor sits next to her and I see her show him something on her phone. “This can’t be put off much longer. D’Angelo wants to speak to him.”
I sign the paperwork and hand it back to the officiant. “See that this gets filed immediately.”
We all sit at the table. Melyssa, myself, and our six guests settle in to pretend we’re happily celebrating together. Cozze grattugiate is served, along with Champagne.
Melyssa looks at it, but doesn’t touch it.
“Is everything all right?”
“She’s allergic to shellfish,” Nikki tells me, in a condescending tone.
“Something we haven’t discussed. I apologize,” I say, looking at Melyssa, not Nikki.
“She gets sick every spring with allergies and ends up with bronchitis. You’d never know she is even sick, because she doesn’t want to bother anyone. She doesn’t like peas and she doesn’t know why. She loves music and dancing, but—”
“It isn’t a big deal, Nikki,” Melyssa interrupts.
“It is a big deal.” I tell her. Not a big deal? It could have killed her.
“I wouldn’t have eaten it.” She pushes back from the table. “Nikki, Paige, let’s go.”
“Melyssa,” I stand to follow, but she shakes her head, no. “One moment, please.”
I take her hand and pull her behind me.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m the one in your corner. Or, on your counter. You don’t have to—”
She covers her face. “Dear God, what else did you hear?”
“Bent over the bathroom counter and I plan to—”
She laughs and pushes me. “It’s a really nice counter.”
“Better than the cabin?” I ask.
“I think...maybe.”
“Did you think the toilet was clean enough?” I push her hair away from her face.
“Pretty sure,” she says, as her body arches towards me.
“Is there something of importance you failed to tell me?” I throw the question in, hoping she’ll confirm what I should have already suspected.
“I’m allergic to shellfish. I don’t eat fish at all, actually.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.”
“Leave it alone,” she says and begins walking away.
I grab her arm and pull her back. “Don’t you think you should kiss me? You know, for show.”
“Mmmkay.”
I watch her walk towards the master bedroom and feel like I am sending her off to the slaughter.
After everyone is finished with the first course, I have the wait staff clear the table and tell them to hold off on the seafood feast.
“Chicken and beef please, whatever is quickest.”
I sit back down at the table and look over at Abe, who is clearly pissed and then Zandor who is amused and lastly at Valentina and Signora Steel, who both look at me in a softer way than they ever have before.
“Detective D’Angelo has been looking for you for almost a week.” Abe crosses his arms.
“Huh, if you hear from him, let him know I am going to be busy with my wife for a while. Honeymoon, you know.”
“Will you b
e taking her back to Italy?” His tone pisses me off.
“No, I think we will be sticking around here.”
“Because you’ll be in some trouble if—”
“Abe, he fucking helped us out.” Zandor tries to placate him.
“And he’s using one of Nikkolette’s best friends.”
“Is that so? What exactly am I using Melyssa for? I need no money and there is no lack of ass to be had—”
“Bro, my Mom.” Zandor says, trying to hold a serious tone and failing.
“Abraham, how long did you know Nikkolette before you knew she was the one for you?” Signora Steel asks.
“With all due respect Momma Joe, Nikkolette and I are engaged and taking our time.”
“To each their own.” She smiles, raises her glass and turns to me. “Now, what will you do with that club?”
“I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“And Melyssa, what do you think she’ll want you to do with it?”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine with whatever I decide.” Zandor laughs and I look at him. “What?”
“Nothing, man.” He holds up his hands and when I look around the table, everyone seems to be amused. It annoys me.
I stand up again. “Please excuse me.”
I go to the room, where Melyssa and her friends have been hiding. I don’t like that she has disappeared. I open the door and walk in, without knocking. They aren’t in there. I look toward the bathroom next and the door is cracked open.
I can hear talking. I can also hear crying. I don’t want anyone to make her cry.
“You’re sure?” It’s her friend, Nikki, who asks.
“What choice do I have?” Melyssa’s tone frightens me.
“You have plenty of choices,” Nikki says.
“No, I don’t,” Melyssa grumbles.
“What happened with Ryan’s family isn’t your fault,” Paige says.
“I know that. This isn’t the same thing.”
“He needs you. You feel obligated,” Nikki interjects.
“No, I don’t feel obligated. I just...feel. I don’t know how to explain it. I won’t even try to explain it to you, but I know that I want. I want him.”
“And what if this is just a convenience for him?” Nikki again.
“It’s not.”
