by K. C. Wells
“It’s not like you’ve said anything that we weren’t already thinking. And you’re right, of course. We do have to do something.” He tightened his arm around Angelo. “Eh, babe?”
Blake crouched in front of Angelo. “Trying to appease your family nearly lost you your future husband a few years ago, remember? I don’t want this to ruin your day, or your future happiness, because I know you’re trying to make everyone happy.” He looked into Angelo’s dark eyes. “Decide what you two want, and then stick to your guns. That doesn’t mean you can’t make compromises along the way, but make sure she knows this is your wedding.” He smiled. “And if it were me? I’d start by setting a date and letting her get used to the idea.”
Angelo stared at him in silence for several long seconds, before nodding slowly. “You’re right,” he said simply. He turned to Rick. “Maybe we need to talk about this tomorrow when we go for Sunday lunch with Mum.”
Rick nodded, his gaze focused on Angelo. “Whatever you say. I just don’t want to see you miserable anymore.”
Angelo let out a soft sigh and cupping Rick’s cheek, he pulled him into a gentle kiss.
Blake rose and left them to it.
He’d done his good deed for the day—he hoped.
* * * * * *
Will found Blake exactly where he’d expected—standing at the foot of Nathan’s cot, gazing at their sleeping child. The room was painted in a sunny yellow, with a musical mobile of Winnie the Pooh hanging over the cot, and on a shelf above it, all of Sophie’s stuffed animals, staring into it.
Will shivered. “I don’t know about you,” he whispered to Blake, “but if I woke up to find all those glassy eyes trained on me? I’d have nightmares.”
Blake gave a soft chuckle. “That’s just you, then. I’m sure Nathan will love them. Think about all the love Sophie lavished on them over the years. There’s a lot of love in this small room.”
Will liked that. Then he grinned. “Our little girl can be very stubborn, you know. She insisted we didn’t need to buy a new mobile for Nathan, not when we already had Winnie from when she was a baby. And although I said he deserved to have a new one, she folded her little arms and stood her ground.”
Blake bit his lip. “Hmm. So Sophie is stubborn. I wonder which of us she gets that from.” His eyes gleamed.
Will narrowed his gaze. “Oh, I see. Now it comes out. I’m stubborn, am I?”
Blake brought his finger to his lips. “Shh. We don’t want to wake up Nathan, do we?”
Will arched his eyebrows. “Be careful what you say or I’ll change my mind about my plans for this evening.” He stared at Nathan, noting his hands balled into tiny fists, his breathing nice and regular. Sophie had come into their lives after a problematic birth, but it had been plain sailing with Nathan. Their perfect little boy.
When he glanced across at Blake, he noted with amusement that his husband was staring at their son in exactly the same manner. God, what a pair we make.
He took Blake’s hand in his. “I know you could stand there all night, just watching him sleep, but I have something else to occupy you. Plans, remember?”
Blake raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
Will grinned. “The guests have all gone. Sophie is finally asleep. The party is cleared away. The bed has towels laid out on top of it, and there’s a bottle of massage oil standing in warm water.”
The happy sigh that fell from Blake’s lips as he followed Will from the room was answer enough.
Chapter Five
“No time like the present,” Rick whispered as Angelo brought out the tray with the coffee pot, milk jug and sugar bowl and placed them in the middle of the dining table.
Angelo gave him a hard stare. “Do not rush me,” he said through gritted teeth. Discussing it the previous night had been one thing—then it had seemed a reasonable proposition—but now, in the cold light of an equally cold March Sunday?
Angelo was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking horses.
“Thank you, tesoro,” Mum murmured while he passed around the coffee pot.
“Suck-up,” Luca whispered, grinning. Unseen by his mum, Angelo gave him two fingers. Luca just laughed quietly. Beside him, his wife Rachel watched the byplay with a faint smile. After all the years they’d been married, she was more than accustomed to how Angelo’s family rolled.
Mum appeared not to have noticed her son’s remark. “I’m so glad you and Rick were able to join us for lunch.”
“I’m not.” Vincente groused. “That meant there was less of Mum’s cooking for the rest of us.”
Angelo eyed his brother’s belly that was already overhanging his belt. Beside him, Rick placed a hand on Angelo’s thigh beneath the table, and it didn’t take a genius to work out the meaning behind that gesture. Say nothing. God, it was tempting though. At forty-eight, his brother had turned into a fat man. No wonder Mum had asked him to play Babbo Natale at Christmas. The red Father Christmas costume had fitted him perfectly.
Then it struck him. Rick really does know me. It was as if he’d felt Angelo’s itch to say something.
Paolo snorted. “You mean more food for you, you fat bastard.” He caught Angelo’s eye and winked. Apparently Paolo had no qualms about speaking his mind.
Mum gasped and gave Paolo an evil glance. “You should not use such language in front of your children.”
Paolo’s wife Tina gave another explosive snort. “You are kidding, right? They’re teenagers. Have you heard the language they come out with? I blame the internet and TV.” The teenagers in question, two girls and a boy, were no longer at the table but were in the lounge, playing with the PS4 that they’d brought with them. Two of Vincente’s three kids were with them, and judging by the laughter, they were having a far better time than the adults.
Mum pursed her lips and said nothing but handed out the coffee cups and side plates.
Maria came in from the kitchen, carrying a large plate on which sat a chocolate cake that made Angelo’s mouth water. He tried to ignore Rick who smacked his thigh. Unfortunately, Maria caught it and burst into laughter. “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, bro, remember? Especially if you want to fit into your wedding suit.”
Angelo groaned and Luca cackled. “Way to go, sis. You went and said the W word.” He dug Angelo in the ribs with his elbow. “Because it must have been, what, a whole hour since it was last mentioned, right?” The grin he gave Angelo was pure evil.
Mum nodded vigorously. “But we need to discuss this. There is so much to do, so—”
“Mum?” When Angelo was certain he had her attention, he smiled, although his stomach churned and all the hairs in the back of his neck lifted. “Mum, sit down, please. We need to talk.”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Her expression was one of sheer confusion.
Angelo nodded. “Yes, but there is something Rick and I need to share with you.”
Around the table his brothers and sisters-in-law chuckled. Maria did not, however. She met Angelo’s gaze and nodded. Thank God for that. They had an ally. He should have known Maria would be on their side.
Mum sat and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Well, I’m listening.” Her back was stiff, as was her facial expression, and Angelo groaned inwardly to see it.
This is not going to be easy.
Angelo clasped his hands on the white tablecloth, but Rick reached over and took one, lacing their fingers. Angelo gave him a grateful glance before focusing on Mum.
“Rick and I have been talking, and we’ve come to a decision.” He paused to inhale deeply, aware that all eyes were focused on him and that everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Rick simply tightened his grip on Angelo’s hand.
Angelo felt like Indiana Jones, about to step off the precipice.
“We’re going to set a date in August and we’ll take care of the ceremony.”
There. He’d gotten the words out.
Mum’s jaw dropped and those dark eyes held what could only be
described as hurt. She stared at both of them, swallowing a couple of times. Then she coughed. “You… are going to organize the wedding?”
Angelo nodded, his heart pounding. “Yes. You don’t have to concern yourself with it anymore. Leave all the hassle to me and Rick.” He’d figured trying to paint it as though they were doing her a favour might lessen the blow.
Not if her expression was anything to go by. She looked for all the world like Angelo had struck her.
“In August?” She frowned. “But surely there is not enough time. You will never find a church that is still available. Churches get booked up so quickly these days.”
“Who says it has to be in a church?” Rick blurted out.
Fuck.
Mum hissed, and Angelo was positive that if she’d had a crucifix nearby, she’d have held it in front of her. “But… it has to be in a church.”
“Mum, it can be anywhere,” Maria said in a soothing tone. “Nowadays people get married outdoors, on a beach, in a castle, a hotel, you name it.”
“And who would perform the ceremony? Some civil servant, when it should be a priest. After all, you are being joined together in the sight of God.” She genuflected.
Angelo didn’t think this was the right moment to share Rick’s beliefs. He had no problem believing in God, but as for some of the assholes who claimed to speak for Him? That was another matter entirely.
“Not a problem.” Maria’s voice cut through his wool-gathering. Angelo gave her a quizzical glance, and she smiled. “I know someone who would be happy to perform the ceremony.”
It took him a minute to realize he knew him too. “Franco?” He and Rick exchanged Christmas cards with the priest, had done since they were first together.
Mum apparently knew his name. “Your friend? The one who is the priest?”
Maria nodded. “Except he’s now a prison chaplain. He’s still able to conduct weddings, I think. I’m sure he’d be delighted to be a part of this.”
That was a great idea. “Maybe we should meet with him to discuss it,” he said slowly. Rick nodded in agreement.
Mum bit her lip. “But that still leaves the issue of where you would get married.”
“Why don’t you leave that to us?” Rick suggested with a warm smile. “One less thing for you to worry about.”
Angelo nodded. “And it’s not like we’re saying we don’t want your help.” Beside him, Rick nodded too. They’d discussed this part the previous night. “We’d like your input with regards to the reception.”
Her eyes lit up. “Truly?”
“Of course. Think about it. The wedding itself will be over fairly quickly. The reception is a much bigger event.” At that moment he’d say anything to make her smile again. Mum had done little smiling in the last six months, understandably.
It seemed his words had done the trick. Mum nodded, her eyes bright. “This is true. I can help with the seating plans, the choice of menus, the music for the evening… ”
“Hey, we can all chip in with ideas for the reception,” Luca butted in. “I’ve had some innovative ideas, things to make your wedding stand out from the crowd.” There were murmurs of agreement from around the table, where it became apparent that his siblings were on the same page.
Oh God.
Angelo kept a straight face. “Oh? Such as?”
“How about having Nonna as a flower girl?” Paolo suggested with his habitual wicked grin. “She’d love it.”
Somehow, Angelo couldn’t see his ninety year-old grandmother inching her way up the aisle with her Zimmer frame, strewing rose petals everywhere.
Paolo’s suggestion opened the floodgates and everyone started talking at once.
“You could have napkins printed with a word search on them. Give the guests something to do when it gets boring. Of course, knowing you two, we’d have to vet them first. Wouldn’t want to shock the Italian rellys, right?”
“Hangover kits! Every seat gets a bag with a hangover kit, containing a bottle of Gatorade, a couple of aspirin, and a coupon for McDonalds.”
“How about having a food truck at the venue? That’s a great idea!”
“And every guest gets a badge—Team Angelo or Team Rick.”
“What about planning something special for your first dance together? You could start out really boring, you know, with a slow number, and then the music changes and you two launch into this choreographed routine that lasts about ten minutes.”
“How about fireworks at the end of the night?”
“You need entertainment. I’ve seen this fantastic act where silk ropes come down from the ceiling, and these dancers are suspended by them.”
* * * * * *
Rick had to admit, Angelo had lasted longer than he’d anticipated. When Angelo began to bang his head against the table in a slow, steady beat, Rick knew it was time to step in.
“Great suggestions, guys. You’ve, er, certainly given us something to think about.”
Angelo jerked his head up at that, his eyes wide. “Great? Are you fucking kidding me?”
That got an instant reaction from Elena, who glared at Angelo.
Not that he noticed. He pointed at Tina. “No. No badges. This is not bloody Twilight, all right?” Then Paolo. “Nonna? A flower girl? Seriously?” He levelled a finger at Vincente. “A dance routine? Well, that would be wonderful except for one eeny weeny, teeny tiny problem—I can’t dance and Rick has two left feet.”
Rick did his best not to react. He wasn’t about to tell them that he and Angelo had met in a gay club, and that Angelo on the dance floor was a thing of beauty to behold. Far be it from me to stop him in full flow.
Angelo wasn’t finished. “Silk rope acrobats? At the reception?” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll be suggesting clowns next.”
Luca grinned. “Aw, come on. Everyone loves clowns. Well, except for Stephen King’s creepy murdering dude.” He shuddered. “Those teeth gave me nightmares for weeks.”
Rick ignored Luca and laid his hand on Angelo’s arm. “We can discuss the reception when we know where it’s going to be held, right? Finding a venue is the first task on the list.”
Elena looked bewildered by the proceedings, not that Rick could blame her.
Angelo let out a growl. “You people are bloody crazy, do you know that?”
“Down, boy,” Rick murmured, giving Angelo’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Play nice.”
Angelo inhaled deeply and then sagged into his chair. “Rick’s right. We can talk about this once we’ve found a venue for the wedding.”
“Then you’d better get a move on,” Vincente said with a frown. “We’re already in March, for God’s sake. If you’re serious about getting married in August, you don’t have long left.”
It occurred to Rick that they might have bitten off more than they could chew, but there was no going back now. We wanted control of the wedding and now we’ve got it.
Heaven help us.
It was either going to be the most wonderful wedding—or that three-ring circus he’d predicted a couple of weeks ago.
As they cleared away the cups and plates from the table, Angelo whispered to Rick, “It’s no use. We have to set her straight on a few things.”
“And there you have the crux of the matter,” Rick muttered. “She’s thinking straight, all right, only we’re not.” Angelo was right: they’d let things go on far too long.
They went into the kitchen and Rick shut the door behind them. Angelo went over to his mother and took her hand.
“Leave the coffee things for a minute, Mum. We need to talk to you.”
She stiffened. “What, again? Didn’t you say enough in there?”
Angelo pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and gestured for her to sit, before joining her. “Mum,” he began, his voice gentle, “you know, don’t you, that there’s no way we can get married in a church?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course you can! Why would you think that?”
Angelo let
out a heavy sigh. “Because we’re gay?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m no idiot. I know that. And gays get married nowadays.”
“Not in a Catholic church, they don’t.” He cocked his head. “You know that, right?”
She stared at him, her lower lip trembling. Finally she sighed too. “I don’t know what I could have been thinking.”
“I do,” he said quietly. “You wanted a big, traditional Italian wedding for your baby boy, but traditional equals Catholic, and gay and Catholic just don’t fit together.” He smiled at her. “What was your plan? To make us wait until the Pope declares marriage equality is fine by him? Because I think you’d have quite a wait on your hands. And as for all our relatives you’re dying to invite, just how many of them would come to a gay wedding? Hmm?”
“I know some who would,” Rick interjected. “I met some of your cousins when we were over there, and they were fine about us. They’d be over here in a heartbeat.”
Angelo turned to look at him, nodding in agreement. “And they’ll be at the top of the list.” He turned back to Elena. “Trust me, there will be lots of people at this wedding, people who are every bit our family as if they were our flesh and blood. People who love us and accept us, just like you do.”
Her lip quivered. “But if this Franco is a priest, surely he can’t marry you either. The church wouldn’t allow it.”
“If he was still a priest with a parish, probably not. But he can give us a blessing, right? As long as we have someone there to make it legal, it’s all good.”
She nodded slowly. “That makes sense, I suppose.” Angelo kissed her cheek and she smiled. “You are a good boy. You said these things to me where the rest of the family cannot hear.”
“No one blames you for wanting the best day for us,” he told her. “It’s not your fault you see life through rose-coloured spectacles. But now that you see things as they really are, you understand why we should organize the wedding?”
