“You know, Salvatore, it’s funny that we are having this conversation. I was thinking as I was walking through the park that I’m tired, and I need to start working less. I am going to tell my daughters tonight. I have already made plans to hire a full-time seamstress and bring on two new interns. I think I need to find that girl who wasn’t so serious all the time. Will you help me? After all, you knew that girl.”
Salvatore remained silent for a few seconds, leaving Olivia hanging. “So I guess you are saying that we will become friends?”
Olivia arched her right eyebrow before answering, “Let’s take it one step at a time. Olivia DeLuca does not make quick decisions.” But a small smile danced along her lips.
26
Bella Fortuna
Four months have passed. It is the first weekend in November—and the morning of my wedding to Stefano. Though I had set my alarm clock to seven o’clock, a rooster from one of the neighbors’ houses in Castello wakes me up an hour earlier.
Yes, I am back in La Serenissima. And here in this magical, fairy-tale city, I will marry Stefano. Though I was supposed to marry Michael in Venice, I don’t care. For I no longer think of my failed engagement when I think of this magical city. Instead, Venice evokes memories of Stefano and the special times we shared here as we fell in love. Stefano asked me if I was sure and told me we could get married anywhere—even in New York. But La Serenissima is where I want to take my vows.
Naturally, my family was stunned when they learned that I had not only fallen in love with an older Italian man, but had also become engaged to him. Their fears were put to rest when Stefano arrived in New York. Charmer that he is, he came to my house with huge bouquets of flowers for my mother and sisters. All Rita could whisper to me when we were alone in the kitchen getting dinner ready was, “He’s so sexy. And the way his eyes keep following you. He is completely head over heels in love with you.”
Connie thought he looked like an Italian version of Richard Gere. “Does he have any brothers or a son, given his older age?”
Ma had taken me aside after Stefano left that first night and asked me, “Are you sure you’re over Michael, Valentina? It’s only been a few months since the two of you broke up.”
“Yes, Ma. I loved Michael. But the love I feel for Stefano overwhelms what I felt for Michael. I had a few doubts before Michael broke up with me. I thought it was just normal pre-wedding jitters. But I see now it wasn’t. Stefano is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m certain of it. You would think I’d be nervous since this is all happening so fast. But I feel like I’ve known him my entire life. It’s hard for me to imagine he was never a part of my past. He feels like family already. When I left him behind in Italy to attend Tracy’s funeral, I felt like I was leaving behind half of my heart. Now that we’re reunited again, I no longer feel incomplete. I don’t know if any of this makes sense to you, Ma.”
“It does. I felt this way for a man once, long before I met your father.”
I was stunned to hear this confession from my mother.
“It’s a long, complicated story. Please don’t ask me to go into it, Valentina. All I will say is that he disappeared from my life suddenly. I didn’t feel right. Like you just described, I felt like a part of me had gone with him. It wasn’t until I met your father that I felt whole again and like I could move on with my life. And just like you, my love for your father was greater than for that other man.”
I was dying to know more about this first love of my mother’s, but out of respect for her wishes and privacy, I refrained from asking her questions.
“So you do understand.”
Ma nodded her head and placed her hand over mine. “I’m so happy for you, Valentina. When we talked on the phone before you came to New York for Tracy’s funeral, I knew you’d met a man and were not just hanging out with ‘friends,’ as you kept saying. I heard the happiness in your voice. And then when you came home, the glow of being in love was all over your face. He seems like a good man—even though he’s from Calabria.” But Ma winked at me.
So with my family’s blessing, we immediately began planning my wedding. I was surprised that a few of my neighbors in Astoria had decided to come since most of them weren’t going to attend my first-planned wedding to Michael. It touched me and showed me how much they cared about me. Connie told me that so many of the neighbors were heartbroken for me when Michael had ended our engagement.
I didn’t even mind this time around that Paulie Parlatone has flown to Venice for the wedding. Italy seems to be doing wonders for him since he is behaving like the utmost gentleman, and last night, after our rehearsal dinner, he hadn’t reached over once for the toothpicks.
Of course, Antoniella is among the guests. Since she was making my cake for the first wedding, she was one of the few neighbors who had planned to attend originally. Naturally, Antoniella assumed she’d also be making my cake for this wedding. I never asked her. She called me one day and told me she had a few new ideas for this cake. Clever woman that she is, she knew I’d want a different design from the one I had originally chosen. I had given a lot of input on the design of my first cake. To show my gratitude to Antoniella, I’m letting her fully design this second cake, which has pleased her immensely. She won’t unveil the design until I see it at my reception. I still can’t believe that I have surrendered complete control to Antoniella. And I can’t help reflecting on how much I’ve changed. Stefano has altered my perceptions and has helped me to see what truly matters.
Signora Tesca has decided to attend as well. During the rehearsal dinner, she took me aside and gave me a stunning brooch that featured an aquamarine gemstone.
“I asked your mother and sisters if it would be all right if I gave you your ‘something blue’ piece to wear on your wedding day. You don’t have to wear this if it does not go with your gown, but I thought maybe you could keep it in your purse or pin it to your undergarments for good luck.”
Tears filled my eyes, and once again, I was amazed at Signora Tesca’s generosity, just as I’d been when she threw my bridal shower at the Mussolini Mansion. Suddenly, I was saddened that I would be leaving Astoria and would not be able to continue my friendship with her, especially now that it seemed we were getting closer. There was so much about this reclusive woman that I’d always longed to know more about. Finally, I was seeing cracks in her sturdy exterior that were giving me glimpses into her personality and showing me what a kind woman she was.
“I’d be honored to wear the brooch, and it’s too beautiful to wear under my dress. I’m going to pin it to the sash that wraps around my bouquet.”
Signora Tesca’s eyes lit up, pleased no doubt that I would be prominently displaying her brooch. “That would be lovely, Valentina.”
“May I ask where you got the brooch?”
Signora Tesca glanced down. I started to regret asking the question, although my curiosity was now piqued.
“My sister gave it to me when I got married.”
I didn’t know Signora Tesca had a sister. Then again, there was little I, or anyone else in Astoria, knew about her. All we’d known was that she was a wealthy widow and had a grown son who visited her occasionally. No one even knew how her husband had died. She was already widowed when she moved to my block when I was a child. Oh, and of course, I knew about her baby girl whom she’d told me had died in infancy.
“Thank you, Signora Tesca. I’ll be sure to have my mother return it to you after the wedding.”
“You can keep it.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t! This must mean a lot to you.”
“It did once, but I have my memories.” Signora Tesca smiled, but it was a sad smile.
“I wouldn’t feel right keeping it, Signora Tesca. You’ve already been so generous to me.”
Signora Tesca patted my cheek. “If your mother or sisters don’t give you something borrowed, then you can return it to me. This will count as something blue and something borrowed.”
> “Well, that sounds fair enough.” I hugged Signora Tesca.
Betsy Offenheimer wanted to come, but she didn’t trust leaving Mitzy with anyone. “She has special needs, you know. I’m afraid she’ll get hurt. You have to be very careful walking a blind dog,” Betsy explained when telling me why she wouldn’t be able to attend. I assured her I understood.
We all were staying at La Residenza, the same hotel I had stayed in over the summer. Stefano’s parents and sister, Angela, had arrived from Calabria a week before the wedding. They were staying with Stefano at his apartment in Cannaregio. A few members of his extended family would also be attending the wedding.
Stefano’s mother got along instantly with my mother. Signore Lambrusca was as charming as his son, and I could tell he’d been a looker when he was young. And Angela immediately set about making me feel like the older sister she never had. I felt truly blessed to be getting such a wonderful set of in-laws.
Since I had much less time to plan this wedding, I’d decided I wasn’t going to make myself crazy designing this dress as I had with my first one. I’ve come to realize that though the wedding dress is still very important, what really counts is my love for Stefano. I had placed too much emphasis on creating the perfect gown for my wedding to Michael. No wonder I had begun doubting my first dress’s silhouette. Looking back now, I see so many of my insecurities over my dress and the wedding were signs telling me I wasn’t sure about Michael.
Michael hadn’t truly known or trusted me to realize that I would’ve taken the news of his son much better than he thought I would’ve. Without a doubt, I would have accepted his son, and my feelings for Michael wouldn’t have changed. But he had known me enough to know that my first wedding dress was not me. I had gone against my preference for classic and elegant styles and instead designed a dress that was daring and fashion forward. Even my family had been surprised when they first saw the gown. Had Connie designed the dress with her love for trends and always striving to be one step ahead of the fashion world, it would’ve seemed natural to everyone.
So for my wedding to Stefano, I’ve decided to stay true to myself. Using the lace I had purchased at Burano, I covered my dress from top to bottom in it. The silhouette I chose for this gown is a modified mermaid, which isn’t as body hugging as a traditional mermaid gown. It shows just enough of my curves without screaming over-the-top sexy. While I love the fuller skirt of a ball gown or an A-line silhouette, and it complements my more classic fashion tastes, I didn’t think it would be practical to have a huge dress to come across the canal in a gondola. Also, my first gown had been a ball gown, and I wanted this dress to be different. Though a mermaid dress, the skirt flares out below my hips and stays flared out with four rows of tiered lace. A thin band of jewels wraps around the bodice, right below my chest, and in the center of the band, an elongated cluster of jewels sits. The bodice is strapless with a slight scoop in the center, and its top is slightly pointed over each breast. I had enough lace to make a bolero jacket to cover my shoulders for the ceremony inside the church. The dress is a blend of classic, romantic, and modern. It’s definitely me.
My hair is styled in a sideswept chignon. I place a crystal-studded comb just above the chignon, and a fingertip-length veil is tucked underneath my updo. I’d sewn the same lace from the dress around the edges of the veil. Except for diamond-studded earrings and my engagement ring, I wear no other jewelry.
Rita, Connie, Angela, and Ma help me get ready. Surprisingly, Ma hasn’t shed a tear, but Rita and Connie can’t stop weeping.
“Come on, guys! Enough already!”
“You just look so gorgeous, Valentina. I didn’t think you could outdo your first gown. You look so elegant. I can’t find anything to criticize.”
“Well, that’s a first, Rita!”
I smile at Rita. She and Connie look beautiful in their deep plum maid-of-honor dresses. Rita, Connie, and I had co-designed the dresses, which feature a mermaid silhouette to go with my gown. But their dresses fit the lines of their bodies more than mine does. The bodice of their gowns is shirred at the waist and hips, and the fabric is gathered to the side where a crystal brooch is displayed. The neckline is a sweetheart and is covered in lace. But unlike my strapless gown, their dresses sport cap sleeves that are also covered in the same lace as the neckline.
“Stai ferma, Valentina.”
Angela is applying my makeup, and at the moment, she’s carefully brushing mascara on to my upper lashes. Her makeup is always impeccable so I know I can trust her skills. She’d been touched when I had asked her to do my makeup for the wedding.
Angela is also my bridesmaid. Her dress is a paler shade of purple than my sisters’. Instead of the sweetheart neckline, her dress covers her chest and is shirred from the waist through to her collarbone. Only the upper back of the dress features lace, and it’s scooped out to reveal her beautiful bronzed skin. I’m not worried about her showing too much skin in church since her hair is so long. She wears it pulled back in a ponytail so that her back isn’t exposed during the ceremony. At the reception, she can adjust the ponytail so that it hangs to the side and will be draped over her left shoulder, revealing the sexy back of her dress.
“Pose for me, Valentina. I’m going to blow up one of these photos to an eleven by fourteen and display it in the shop.” Connie is pointing her iPhone at me.
“I’ll pose for you, but I’m not so sure I want my photo in the shop.”
“Perche no? It will be good advertising. I am sure when customers see one of the owners in her own wedding dress, and one as exquisite as this one, they’ll want to buy this dress.”
“That’s exactly why, Ma! I don’t want anyone else to have my wedding gown design.”
“Bridezilla comes out!” Rita laughs.
Connie quickly comes to my defense. “She’s right, Ma. Come on! We’re the DeLuca girls, masters of the fine art of designing and creating wedding dresses. No one can have our dresses.”
“Yeah, it’s like we’re royalty.” Rita curtsies toward me. I break out laughing.
“Va bene. I see what you girls mean. But I think it’s a shame not to display this dress. We can tell people it’s a design we no longer create.”
“Ma, how long have you been in this business, yet you still don’t know that the word no is impossible to say to a Bridezilla? They’ll just ask you to replicate a dress that is as similar as possible or insist on making this dress.”
Ma throws up her hands in resignation. “Okay, okay, Valentina. You have me beat. I give up.”
There’s a knock at the door. We all call out, “Come in!”
“Buon giorno, Signorina DeLuca. I tuoi fiore.”
“Ahh, si. Entra, per favore.”
I quickly walk over to examine my flowers. My bouquet contains all white cymbidium orchids. I had purchased crystal bobby pins that matched the crystals in my hair comb and asked the florist to scatter them throughout my bouquet. The stems are wrapped with a deep plum sash to go with the color of my bridal party’s dresses. I walk over to the night table in my hotel room and take out Signora Tesca’s brooch and fasten it to my bouquet. Rita, Connie, and Angela’s bouquets are much smaller than mine and also feature white cymbidium orchids, but theirs do not contain the crystal bobby pins.
Ma wears an exquisite pale green gown, and her corsage holds two cymbidium orchids and two of the same crystal bobby pins that are in my bouquet.
“Hey, why didn’t we get the crystal pins?” Rita balks.
“Because you are not her mother. That’s why.”
Ma nods her head once emphatically and looks at herself in the armoire’s mirrors, admiring her sparkly corsage.
“Hello? Is the bride ready?” Aldo holds my hotel suite’s door slightly ajar. “Why are you getting ready with your door open?”
“The florist must’ve left it open on his way out, and we were too busy admiring our beautiful flowers to notice.”
“Oh my God, Vee!”
Aldo stops in his tracks when he sees me.
“I swear you guys are a bunch of saps! I thought Ma would’ve been the one crying nonstop, but it’s the rest of you!”
I walk over to Aldo, offering my cheek for him to kiss, but he simply air kisses me.
“I can’t smudge your makeup. I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself.”
Tears stream down Aldo’s face while he fans himself with his hand. Connie hands him a bunch of tissues.
“Well, you’d better get yourself together before we walk down the aisle.”
“Don’t worry. I take my duties very seriously. You can count on me.”
Ma and Aldo are giving me away. Aldo had cried when I asked him. He’d also been surprised since I hadn’t asked him to give me away when I was supposed to marry Michael. Only Ma was going to give me away, but I’d asked her if she would mind sharing the duties with Aldo. He’d helped me so much after Michael and I broke up. My mother had told me Aldo was family so of course she wouldn’t mind.
Aldo is dressed in a charcoal gray tuxedo, which matches Stefano’s tux except that it’s a little paler in color.
“Oh, before I forget, here’s your corsage.”
I pin onto his chest his corsage, which contains just one of the cymbidium orchids.
We spend the next hour and a half with my photographer, and before I know it, the time has arrived for me to make my procession in my gondola down the Grand Canal to St. Mark’s Basilica, where Stefano and I will exchange our vows. The Basilica is the only ostentatious part of the wedding. We’ve decided to get married there because it’s where our love affair began. And while I adore so many of the other churches in Venice, none of them hold the same allure for me as St. Mark’s Basilica. The dim, gilded interior creates an intimate and sacred atmosphere that none of the other churches manage to capture.
Bella Fortuna Page 36
