Page 49 of The Summer You Were Mine
Ellie drew in a breath as she stood at the entrance to the terrace of Bagni Delfino while the sun began to dip in the sky on the wedding day of Graziella Beltrami and Simone Conte.
After taking an icy shower to be sure she didn’t sweat through the material, she had spent the better part of the last hour trussing her body parts with stretch polyester and then dance-testing the configuration to old Kylie Minogue songs with Ben.
She was pretty sure that of all the malfunctions that could happen at a wedding where the average guest’s age was around seventy-eight, the containment of her breasts would be very low on the list.
Ben had worked his magic in only a couple of hours and had transformed the terrace from high school theater production to breezy-chic soiree that was a beach wedding Pinterest board come to life.
He’d hung gauzy white fabric from the overhead beams to define the space, placed white candle lanterns all around the tables, and even had time to wrap fairy lights around the railings.
The final touch had been a sprinkling of white and lavender rose petals along the aisle leading up to the trellis archway.
The sparkling rosé Riviera sunset did all the rest.
Ben turned to the cluster of bridesmaids standing at the entrance to the terrace and signaled.
Maria Elena edged forward, followed by Pina, Renata, and Lucrezia.
They clutched their small bouquets of tiny white roses and processed toward the trellis in time to the music.
Finally it was just Ellie, Graziella, and Gio.
Ellie gazed ahead down the aisle, at the end of which stood Ugo, Franco, Alessandro Jr, Leonardo, and Cris standing next to Simone.
Simone wore a beige suit with a white shirt, but the groomsmen were all in light-blue linen shirts with the cuffs turned up.
All sported orchid boutonnieres and the same sun-kissed faces.
Ellie took a deep breath. Not one cell in her body wanted to be walking down an aisle toward Cris, for any reason, but she reminded herself that Ben had estimated eight minutes for the whole ceremony from “Dearly beloved” to “You may now.” Eight minutes was the same amount of time it took to walk to Grand Central from her apartment, and she could usually do that before the NPR news podcast even finished. Eight minutes was nothing.
When Ellie and Ben were driving to the garden store in search of decorating materials, she had struggled to explain what had happened with Cris, Games Over , Teena, Omar, and everything else.
“So, you’re telling me that you might be in trouble for not disclosing something about your training that, until five minutes ago, no one cared about.
Then, Cris can’t do your show because you told the truth to an administrative assistant.
And then—wait.” He closed his eyes, thinking.
“You think you might have feelings for him even though he ruined your chances at a career comeback—despite all of this—because you kissed under a big tree and looked at some old photos, but also because Chiavari smells like jasmine?”
“Is that what I said?” she asked as she gazed at a display of outdoor lighting.
“Pretty much. I don’t know why this is a bad thing. It seems to me like he might have done you a favor,” he said, examining a package of twinkle lights. “These are strobe flashers, so no. I am not trying to do Ibiza vibes.”
“He may have done me a favor by not trusting me? I don’t think these flash,” she said, pointing to another display.
“By not hanging you out to dry. By letting you design a clean start instead of going back to something that probably wasn’t right for you. Let’s face it: whether he planned it that way or not, it’s true,” he said, staring her down before she could protest.
“Even if it’s true, I would have liked to make that decision for myself—not have it made for me by someone who bails on a plan!”
“Are you serious? Any plan that hinges on one person to make it work is not a plan, it’s a Hail Mary.”
“Wow, sports reference.”
“Ya like that?” He grinned.
“No.”
“Even if he did the interview and it went fine, how long do you think it would be until some other catastrophe cropped up?”
“Because I would find a way to ruin it again, right? Because I’m a fraud.”
“Because the show ran its course and it’s done now.
But you’re not. I know you don’t see it, but this is a good thing.
There’s more to you than this.” Ben shook his head while he crouched among the shelves.
“Since college, you’ve lived your life without relying on somebody else to fix things for you. Don’t start now.”
The thought of going back to New York made her feel exhausted.
What was there for her now? Of course she had Ben, but everything else that had anchored her life was gone.
It didn’t feel like going home so much as returning to the scene of the crime.
And then there was the phone call with Omar, where she barely started saying I want you to know before he cut her off, telling her that he was already keeping his eyes open for new opportunities and she shouldn’t blame herself because he had an equal part in the mistake.
She swore to every divine entity she could think of that she would do everything in her power to help him find a job.
He laughed and said he did not doubt her diligence for a second.
He was being kind, but it still felt terrible.
“Looks like you were right about that guy,” said Omar.
“It’s probably for the better. God knows where that cabrón will end up. ”
It turned out that he would end up twenty feet away from her for the next three hours, at least. She’d rather be dipped in fire ants than be this close to him, but unfortunately, she loved her grandmother.
Ellie felt Graziella brush her elbow with her fingertips, pulling her out of her daze and right back into the wedding.
“ Andiamo, gioia, ” she whispered.
Ellie snapped into a smile and took her first step forward, focusing on the short man who would serve as officiant wearing a red, white, and green sash across his overly formal black suit.
She tried very hard to let her eyes rest on the glint of moisture running down his temples in the early evening heat and not on the six-foot-three tractor beam standing a few feet to his left.
Cris probably looked perfect—shaved and ironed and abnormally zhuzhed by his fashionable brothers.
She was not walking down this aisle to Cris, she was walking down the aisle in spite of him.
Also, because prosecco was on the other side of the “I do’s. ”
Ellie took her place next to the other bridesmaids as her dad escorted the radiant Graziella down the aisle.
The bride wore a blush-pink sheath while the other bridesmaids wore dresses in a range of violets and blues, but all had the same white orchid hair clip.
Ellie had been to a few other weddings, but never had she seen a more genuinely excited wedding party.
The other bridesmaids stood tittering behind Ellie, waving to the guests and beaming at the groomsmen.
Gio kissed Graziella as Ben took his place behind Leo.
Then the music stopped and the group grew quiet.
She felt a surge of sparks in her belly.
Why was she this nervous? It wasn’t her wedding.
Her nerves broke her concentration and her eyes flicked to him.
Cris was staring right at her. She looked away immediately.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love and commitment between Graziella and Simone, two people who have come together in the best moment of their lives because it is now, here, with all of us. These two beautiful people did not have to marry, that is certain, but their desire to become united is a symbol of the power of love.” The officiant read from a tiny notebook, looking up to address both sides of the terrace.
“Great love is so powerful that it must be obeyed, no matter the circumstances.”
Easy for him to say. All he had to do was show up and pull the equivalent of a state-notarized nose twinkle, drink a glass of wine, and jump on his scooter to the next shindig.
Obeying the call of love was probably easy for a guy who got to charge 500 euros per ceremony.
She must have been scowling because Ben was jamming his fingers into the corners of his mouth at her from across the aisle.
She stood up straighter. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment and her inner monologue of acid was not welcome.
She just wished that she didn’t have to see Cris and get distracted.
But wait. If she leaned her hip an inch or two to the left, she would be staring at the ceremony directly through the spray of tulle attached to Graziella’s bridal version of the orchid hair clip and not have to see anyone at all.
“I, Simone Conte, offer myself to you, Graziella Beltrami, as husband.”
Ellie flicked her eyes over to Ben again, who winked back at her.
Apparently, the wedding magician had the time to update the vows as well.
She smiled and listened as they delivered their lines while holding each other’s hands.
It really was amazing. According to everything she knew about her grandmother and Simone, it never occurred to them that what they were doing was revolutionary.
It was that they were in love and simply wanted to share their joy with all of their family and friends.
Love was not a young person’s game, only for those who had time to burn.
It was not an unfettered person’s game, only for people who were without scars and baggage.
For Simone and Graziella, love was theirs, now, for however long forever would be.