by Tiana Laveen
It’s not worth it, Gio…
Like hell it’s not! That’s so fucking disrespectful! Ya go up to my woman, the one you lost because you didn’t value her, and ya show her my sealed records?! Some shit that I did when I was practically a kid and use it to try and break us up?! I guess no one can have her since she didn’t want cha back, huh? Well, we are back together now. Wedding planning is going strong—but I can’t let you get away with this shit! All the trouble ya caused… this could’ve ended up so much worse! Luckily, she forgave me for not tellin’ her, but what if she hadn’t?!
Focus on the positive… you have her, he does not.
What if she had officially called the wedding off?!
…But she didn’t. Besides, it’s been two months since this blowup happened. Just let it go.
I can’t. I hold grudges about this sort of shit. You can’t do this shit to me and just live your life as if nothing happened…
He’s a miserable son of a bitch. Just leave him alone. Karma will sort it out.
I don’t believe that shit! Not even a little bit. Karma didn’t sort Brandy out! Karma didn’t stop Nonna from losing her husband, the love of her life! Karma didn’t give a fuck about Dom and his loser ass of a mother! Karma didn’t give a shit that I was in prison with rapists and serial killers! Karma didn’t stop none of this shit from happening! Fuck karma. Karma sleeps on tha job but Giovanni is wide the fuck awake! I’m here for some hands-on service! Yo, Vince, ya fuck face fucker! I’m going to blow ya fuckin’ brains out you meddling, jealous son of a bitch!
He reached towards the pistol… then stopped short. His heart raced and he heard his Nonna’s voice inside his head…
No, Giovanni… no, no, no! You have a grandmother! A wife! I want my great grandbabies from you! NO! NO! NO!
He winced. It sounded so real, as if she were sitting right beside him.
Don’t let your temper and pride do this to you! Don’t do it, Gio… you could risk everything if someone sees ya! You’d lose her for certain then! No more Vanessa… Chinky all gone… Is that what you want?
He started the car and pulled away from the curb, mad as fuck. He beat the damn thing with a closed fist. Ma would never forgive me, and it could send Nonna to an early grave if I had to go back to the pen…
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he screamed while beating the steering wheel in frustration.
Turning the car, he did some breathing exercises, trying to calm himself down, then hurried straight to the gym to blow off some steam. On his way, his cellphone rang. Not recognizing the number, he snatched it up anyway, something he rarely did.
“Yeah? Who tha hell is it?”
“Hey baby, it’s me. I’m on the store phone because my battery is low on my iPhone.” He sighed in relief, glad to hear from his sweetheart. “You just crossed my mind, and I just… I don’t know, I wanted to hear your voice and tell you how much I love you. That’s all. I didn’t want anything. I know you’re busy so I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing.”
He approached a red light and hung his head.
“I love you too, Chinky. And no, baby, you did want something… you telling me that you loved me right now was exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Joining of the Nations…
St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Midtown, Manhattan was the perfect venue for their wedding. The service would be split in half. Due to the strict rules of the church regarding certain songs and celebrations, they secured the hall just a block away to do the second portion of their wedding before heading into the reception. Regardless, it was a miracle to be able to be joined in holy matrimony with her beloved at such a gorgeous cathedral. This was the place Giovanni wanted for them to exchange vows in, and Vanessa fell in love with it from the get go. He’d driven up to the place and pointed at it, just like he’d done the house he’d purchased on their behalf, and sat there with stars in his eyes, like a child about to open a gift on Christmas morning.
She’d seen the place since she was a child—everyone in the city was familiar with St. Patrick’s Cathedral, especially Catholics. It was incredibly beautiful from a purely aesthetic sense, the kind of place one would find described in fairytales that featured gallant knights and gorgeous princesses dressed in spun gold and dripping with diamonds, waiting for their one true love. With its Neo-Gothic design, it was a well-known landmark in New York City, and world renowned, too. The old, magnificent church, considered one of New York’s treasures, had been restored in 2012.
It was amazing that they were even able to secure the church for their wedding. In fact, many strings, ribbons, hair bows, and balls of yarn had to be pulled in order to make a go of it. Not just because they were booked typically years in advance, but Vanessa wasn’t Catholic, nor did she have any interest in converting. That was one snag of many.
Oddly enough, or perhaps not so much after all, some of the parishioners and a couple of priests knew her husband-to-be’s grandmother all too well—his precious Nonna, better known to them as Mrs. Francesca Russo, who enjoyed shopping in Manhattan and had friends in Brooklyn who she’d liked to visit from time to time in her heyday. Despite spending most of her days in Long Island, the woman had ventured into the city quite a bit in her younger years. She had a reputation for being a great dancer, an amazing cook, brutally honest, and a generous soul, too. During those times, she often attended Mass at St. Patrick’s, as well. She never held back with her donations to the church, or with offering help to anyone in the parish when needed.
Her generosity in fact was key, for according to Giovanni, after a few angry phone calls from the woman herself during which she reminded them of this, the whole thing panned out. Her favorite grandson wanted access for his wedding at that church, and she’d made it happen. It also did help that due to Giovanni’s stardom, the church would be in the limelight once again.
Now here Vanessa stood, her family and friends nearby, trying desperately to not ruin the makeup job she’d spent three hours pulling together. Her hair had been done by one of the top stylists in the city, and according to her mother, every seat in the cathedral was taken. Gio’s notoriety had caused way more buzz than either of them had imagined.
Honestly, Vanessa now believed that Gio had no true idea about just how famous he was. He always seemed genuinely surprised when someone would stop him while they were out and ask for his autograph. For such a big shot, attention and camera hog, it was rather refreshing to see him taken aback by such requests. He always responded with modesty and humility, which made him all the more endearing to his fans.
All of these thoughts about what a great guy he was raced through her head. She needed this breather. She’d told everyone she was going to make a quick phone call, when in fact, she just wanted a minute alone.
“What are ya doin’?” She turned and faced her brother-in-law, Roberto. With a big smile on his face and his beautiful newborn daughter in his arms, he approached her as she paced about in the vestibule.
“Just, uh, standing here.” She offered what she surmised was a goofy grin.
Damn, my hands are sweaty!
“Ya better not let Gio see ya. He’s right behind me. He’ll be in here any second.” Roberto winked at her. “Ya look beautiful, by the way,” he said.
“Thank you so much, Roberto.” Before she could say anything more, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and drew her close, then landed a kiss on her cheek. The man disappeared without another word, entering the sanctuary and leaving her to her own devices. She quickly joined her wedding party once again, feeling jittery and excited all over.
“Oh Lord! Let me fix your veil!” her mother fussed, motioning for her to come close, where her sisters and friends also stood. They were all talking, laughing, chitchatting, but she was barely paying attention. She looked in the long mirror at the dress she’d spent so much money on after scouring the city for the perfect one, and then, she looked down at her
ring…
Bringing it up to her lips, she kissed it.
Thank goodness for matte, smudge proof lipstick.
She smirked. Minutes later, she was sitting down very carefully in a soft, cushiony seat as Rebecca placed her earrings in.
“You make sure you lay it on his ass tonight, girl,” her girlfriend teased, causing her to burst out in a fit of giggles. “You ride that Italian stallion into the mothafuckin’ ground, ya hear me? Make us all proud! Give him something he can feel! We didn’t give you all that lingerie, oils, candles, and sex toys for nothin’ at your bachelorette party! Use them, bitch!”
They both burst out in a fit of cackles, only to have her mother give her the side-eye, which only caused more ruckus.
“All right, it’s started!” the wedding coordinator announced several minutes later. Everyone got to their feet and as she waited, her heart was pounding, her stomach was flipping, and a headache was coming on. Theresa grabbed her arm and pulled her near.
“Are you okay, Vanessa? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yes, just nervous and excited as hell!” She smiled, and her friend nodded in understanding. “All of these cameras, these people… it’s overwhelming, girl. We probably should’ve just eloped!” she whispered.
Her friend took her hand and squeezed it.
“It’s all right. If you had done that, his grandmother would’ve killed you.” Well, no one was going to argue with that fact. “Relax, you’ve got this! You’re marrying your best friend… he’s crazy, but he’s still your best friend.”
She almost burst out laughing, then caught herself. Theresa knew exactly what to do and say to help lessen her apprehensions. Before long, her friend and the entire bridal party was gone. They’d left down the aisle with the groomsmen, and she stood there, taking deep breaths as she held her elegant bouquet.
Serious sounding organ music played, creating an atmosphere of drama. A somber sound, not at all like the upbeat tunes she’d had when planning a wedding in her mind as a child. When those doors opened and she was exposed to the crowded church, a sense of peace came over her. It was the oddest thing. Instead of feeling like a deer caught in headlights, she was completely at ease, in her element.
Everyone got to their feet. She looked all the way to the end of the aisle and could barely make out her baby. But when he smiled, he became crystal clear…
That smile of his lit up the entire church like fireworks bursting into the air. Her uncle wrapped his arm around hers and led her down the aisle. Their steps were slow and evenly timed. She kept her eyes straight ahead and as she drew nearer to her Sicilian king, she melted inside. This was forever… and forever felt so good.
Soon, she stood right beside him before the priest. Lifting her veil, he looked at her and his eyes instantly watered. He laughed lightly, a sound of relief and joy. Such an honest reaction, with a tear streaking his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he said to the priest, but she kept his eyes on him. Gio was dressed to kill in his white tuxedo. “I just can’t believe this day is finally here.”
They recited the vows that they’d practiced and before long, the service came to an end. Now, the fun begun. All of the guests followed behind in a caravan of limos and cars to the hall a block away. Once inside, the rest of the service commenced with a woman standing up from her seat and singing, “Ciuri Ciuri,” a traditional Sicilian song. Everyone seemed to be enjoying it and the service really came alive then! Vanessa’s mother’s minister, Pastor Thomas, took over from there.
He performed a simple ceremony and gave a typical speech, full of passion and prayers to Jesus to bless this wedding. Before the rings were exchanged one more time, Pastor Thomas pointed to the back of the hall.
“Now I present, the Simba Dancers…” Low beating drums began to play. The music grew louder and louder when ten dancers entered the hall, dressed in gold and silver. Their bodies twisted in sync with the rhythm as they spread to the sides of the aisle, then back to the middle. The minister handed her a microphone, and Vanessa began to speak her special spoken word piece—something she wrote as a gift to her husband-to-be…
“Today I dance for the rays of sun
That shine on my heart’s celebration.
Today we join Sicily
To an entire African nation.
From Messina to Kenya
From Cameroon to Syracuse
The blood of Black and White
Turns gold and turquoise blue
The gold is the African resource
And the blue is of the Mediterranean Sea
With blurred lines, we drink wine
Intoxicated off love and jubilee
From the Black slave southerners
Who picked cotton so I could exist,
To those poor and tired Italian immigrants
Who fled to New York so they could dream and wish.
We are their children
Their descendants, their babies, their kin.
We are paintings of beauty in an unkind place
Watercolors in every shade, hues that blend
My blood is the Nile River
My curves made of elephant tusks
His tears are from the Strait of Messina
His bones made from the temple of Segesta at dusk.
We are the future
And we embrace a painful, yet beautiful past
From Martin Luther King Jr. to Giovanni Falcone,
We protest through positive change and honesty, but mostly through love—
Because love is built to last.”
A booming applause broke out as people got to their feet. She stood in a trance until she felt a gentle tug on her elbow. Giovanni’s lower lip quivered as he yanked her towards him, enveloping her in his arms.
Through all the commotion, she heard his whisper in her ear, “That was so good! I love tha shit outta you, baby!”
Once things died down, an older woman took the microphone and sung, “Si Maritau Rosa” and a few other classic Sicilian songs, which were a staple at weddings. The entire side of the hall where Giovanni’s family sat joined in. They sang loud and happily, clapping, practically dancing in their seats. Giovanni and his brother, and his groomsmen, too, clapped joyously, and everyone else joined in, despite not knowing the words.
Vanessa floated within herself, surpassing cloud nine.
“You may kiss your bride.” This was their second kiss—the first, a modest one in the large Cathedral and now this, a passionate one … last, but definitely not least.
Giovanni wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his soft, sweet lips against hers.
“I now present, Mr. and Mrs. Luciano!”
They just kept holding on to one another, never wishing to break free. Suddenly, there was a thumping sound, a pounding noise. Their embrace came to a screeching halt when Giovanni’s Nonna was handed a microphone. Holding tight to her cane, she leaned forward as she stared at the two of them, a big smile on her face.
“My precious nipote has gotten married!” The woman’s voice cracked with emotion. Everyone drew quiet as she held the floor. “I have waited for this day… such beauty and love. La sposa è bellissima! If you invite love in, it will come. If you shut it out, it will go. Love is a fiore. It needs sunlight and water to grow. My grandson is a wonderful man. He needed sunlight and water, too. He was a beautiful rose, pretending to be a weed!”
At this, the space erupted with laughter, including Giovanni.
“And now, he has a beautiful wife to help water him… help show the world what he’s made of. I love you, Giovanni!”
Tears streamed down her face as she blew him kisses. Gio’s mother got to her feet, also overwhelmed with emotion, and wrapped her arm around Nonna to help steady her.
“I love you too, Nonna!” Gio smiled as more happy tears fell down his cheeks.
“Tanta felicità!”
Rice was thrown in the air from all directions, falling all around them in
a soft rain. Among the commotion, Giovanni took her into his arms once more. He smelled so good, felt so strong…
“You’ve made me so happy.” He squeezed her tight. “You made me believe in love again…”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Compliments of the Dom…
“The wedding reception was great, right? A real fuckin’ fun time.” Dom sniffed, the cold weather getting to him. Spring was right around the corner, but it couldn’t come soon enough. He daydreamed of basking on a beach somewhere tropical. His friend, Giuseppe, nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, the food… Jesus!” He kissed his fingers before strapping the seatbelt across himself. “So, uh, I didn’t get uh chance to ask Gio but where are they goin’ for their honeymoon?” Dom looked at the time in his black Toyota Corolla. It was nearly 4:00 A.M.
“Bali.” He put out his cigarette, smashing it in the ashtray compartment.
“Where the fuck is Bali?”
“Indonesia… Jesus, don’t you look at a map or gotta globe? Watch documentaries? Read National Geographic? What tha fuck? Anyway, the hotel is somewhere around here.” He peered around. “It’s called the Belvedere.”
“Belvedere, huh? Fancy. I wonder if they gotta Belvedere back in Jersey?”
“I dunno, but I used to be down here in Hell’s Kitchen all the time… top notch restaurants if ya ask me.”
“I haven’t been to New York in like eight or nine months. It’s nice… too fuckin’ expensive and too many people though.”
“Yeah, but most of my family is here, so ya know.” He shrugged. “It is what it is. All right, here we go.”
They pulled up to the hotel and parked in a lot across the way. Minutes later, Dom was getting his overnight bag out of the trunk, his friend following closely behind sporting a backpack and baseball cap. They entered the establishment, heads held high and smiles on their faces.
“Yeah, good evenin’. I got a reservation for two rooms, both in my name.” Dom removed the I.D. card and slid it across the counter.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith. You’re in room 413 and the second room is 415, just as you requested.”
