“You’ve got a point. She’ll be happy I’m sure, but my father is another story.”
“Don’t worry, Ella; it will all work out. I’m so happy for you.”
JOE
“What the hell, bud? You’re getting hitched? You can’t desert me. Who’s going to be my wingman now? I can’t trust Mario and Franco to get me laid.” Fabio held his head in his hands.
“Sorry, buddy, you’re on your own. I’ve taught you well, my horny friend. Go and sow thine wild oats, young master.” I laughed at him as he threw his arm up in the air.
“You’re a disappointment to me, bud.”
“You better not let Bria hear you talk about sowing anything. She’ll kick your ass. I’m willing to bet that you two will be walking down the aisle soon.” I laughed.
“You got me there. The woman is a hurricane in a bottle.”
“How are things going with you two?”
“If you’d told me a year ago I’d be dating one woman only, I’d think you were nuts. Now, I’m not so sure. Bria is amazing. Yes, she’s a handful but I adore her.” Fabio’s eyes sparkled as he said her name.
“You’re a goner, bud. Feels good, doesn't it?”
A goofy smile lit up his face. “It feels great!”
ELEANORA
After Joe and I had been engaged for six months, we finally broke the news to our parents. Both sets were stunned at first, hurling reasons at us as to why we were too young. Joe and I stayed calm and stood our ground. We knew they’d come around.
My mother, Bria, and I crisscrossed the streets of Palermo for weeks, shopping for a wedding dress and all the wonderful trinkets and decor befitting a grand wedding. Bria was beside herself with excitement. I had a feeling that she was practicing for her own nuptials. She and Fabio had been dating for more than a year, and I was convinced that they would be the next of our group to get married.
Joe’s family wasn’t thrilled about the idea of him getting married, but they warmed to it the better they got to know me. The biggest shock came when my father agreed to lunch with the Colis. My nerves were shot for two days prior, and on the day, I thought I’d have a stroke. To my surprise, it was very cordial.
Joe and I had decided on a spring wedding—summers were just too hot. The cathedral we’d chosen was spectacular—centuries of history and authenticity filled every square inch of the stone church. When the big day had finally dawned, my heart was aflutter with nerves and excitement. I was finally going to be Mrs. Joe Coli.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning. I’d spent Saturday night at my parents’ home. My mother was clucking away as she made sure all the arrangements were done. The wedding day of her only daughter was always going to be a big deal. Bria helped me as I stepped into the stunning white dress. I looked like a princess—my mother cried, mascara running down her cheeks.
The church was packed to capacity with family, friends, and well-wishers, the Colis taking up more than half the pews. My father walked me down the aisle, all eyes on my dress. I was thankful for my thick veil, as I probably looked akin to a deer caught in the headlights. My beautiful Joe was waiting for me at the altar. My father lifted my veil as he presented me to Joe. My heart bursting with pride, I came to stand across from my husband-to-be.
I don’t remember much of the ceremony, only that Joe’s beautiful green eyes were on mine all throughout. When he put the ring on my finger, I thought I’d never be happier than at that moment. I heard the priest say “you may kiss the bride” and Joe did. Boy, was it an earth-shattering kiss; he managed to make my knees buckle, and not for the first time.
Outside the church, Joe and I were pelted with enough rice to feed a small army. The cheers and whistles were deafening. Our reception was at a hotel that overlooked the ocean where Joe and I had hiked when we’d met. White chairs, white ribbons, an orchard of flowers, and glass jars filled with bomboniere for our guests transformed the venue into a paradise.
JOE
Ella was the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen. She looked like an angel in her wedding gown, and when Giovanni lifted her veil, my heart leaped with pride and joy. She was perfect, every inch of her. The church was packed, but I saw no one but her. When we exchanged rings, it finally dawned on me that Ella was all mine. She was my beautiful bride. My life had begun.
At the reception, Fabio’s speech was nerve-wracking. I’d never known what to expect from my best friend—I prayed it wouldn’t be embarrassing anecdotes of my teenage years, navigating the seas of love. I’m happy to say that he’d done a sterling job.
As we were eating our meal at the large family table, I noticed a woman, dressed in white, standing on the outside of the circular seating. The woman must have had big balls to attend a wedding wearing white. That was strictly for the bride—guests never wore white out of respect for the bride. She had a young man with her, about my age I’d reckoned. They were glowering at Ella and I, settling their malicious stares on my parents shortly after.
My father was chatting happily with Ella’s parents when I leaned over and spoke into his ear.
“Papa, do we know that woman?”
My father looked up and went as white as a sheet. He said nothing. He only stared at the couple. My mother looked up to see what had silenced him so suddenly. By the look on her face, I knew that something
