I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, we’re finally at the end, so of course there’s a wedding. But don’t worry… there’s still the epilogue next week…
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Chapter Sixty-Two
Coming Home
Ben tapped at Lorelei’s door. He was dressed in a rented tux, which, although it looked sharp as hell on him, was not ideal for working with flour. He’d wanted to look his best for Lorelei on their big day.
She opened the door and gasped. “Ben, you’re so… You clean up nice.”
I could say the same about you. Her blond hair was held back by a silver circlet, its tresses teased into loose curls that fell down to her shoulders. She was wearing a cute white sundress and turquoise high-heeled shoes, with a turquoise blue sash and corsage to match.
“Do I look okay?” Wrinkles creased her forehead, her only imperfection that served to make her even more beautiful.
“You look like a fairytale princess!” How did I get so lucky? Ella was looking down on him from somewhere.
She blushed. “And you are my Prince Charming.”
He leaned forward to kiss her, but she pulled away and wagged a finger at him. “Not until after the wedding. Kids, come on! Ben is here!”
The little blond cretins—Max and Mia—scurried out of their corners, Max dressed in an adorable tiny suit and Mia in a white dress that looked like a miniature version of her mother’s.
“What have you two been up to?” She brushed at the scuff marks on Max’s knees, but gave up when it became evident they weren’t coming off. “At least nothing’s ripped.”
“Small favors. They’ll be fine.” He knelt on one knee. “Hello kids.”
“Hello Ben,” they said in unison. It sounded suspiciously rehearsed. Then Mia kicked him in the shins and ran off.
Lorelei turned three shades of red. “Mia, get your little butt back here and apologize.”
Ben rubbed his shin. The kid had a surprisingly strong kick. “It’s all right—”
“It’s not all right. I swear, they take after their father sometimes.”
“I’m sure we’ll work it all out.” In truth, he was terrified of becoming a father. He had absolutely no experience at it. But he’d learn. Somehow.
Lorelei peered out into the corridor. “Where’s your mother?”
“Down in the car.” He checked his Apple Watch. “We should go. It’s almost nine-thirty.”
“Come on, kids. Last one to the car gets no wedding cake!”
They whizzed past her like a couple Tasmanian devils.
Lorelei grabbed her handbag. “I’m ready. Let’s go get married.”
Ben had never heard sweeter words.
#
Marissa was having trouble getting the zipper pulled up on the black blouse she had chosen for the weddings. “Ains, could I get a hand? I can’t zip this damned thing.” She couldn’t quite reach it.
“Sure thing, ‘Riss.” Ainsley made her way around a stack of boxes. She’d moved her stuff out of the dorm the day before, and they hadn’t had time to get it all sorted yet. “Black’s a strange color for a wedding.”
Marissa laughed. “Yeah, but I look good in it. Nonna said this was going to be anything but a traditional affair.” Wear what you like. You’ll be perfect.
Ainsley’s cool hands made short work of the zipper.
“How do I look?” Marissa did a little twirl like a fashion model. Take that, Project Runway.
Ainsley stared at her over her shoulder in the dresser mirror. “You’re right. You look amazing.” She kissed Marissa’s cheek.
Marissa smirked. “Don’t you want me to tell you how you look?”
“Nope. I always look amazing.” She looked around at all the boxes still stacked in the corners of the room. “You sure you’re okay with me staying here? I haven’t asked my parents if they will help with the rent yet.” She slipped out into the living room.
“Yup. I’ve got it covered for a couple months.” The truth was they’d be hurting for cash soon, but that was a problem for another day. “You ready?”
“Ready if you are. Just need to pluck my eyebrows. Give me two minutes.”
In twenty more, they were on their way.
#
Dave closed the car door, and reached down to tuck his white button-down shirt into his khakis where it had popped out on the side. “What are we supposed to wear to an event that is half bake sale and half high tea?”
Marcos snorted. “I doubt there will be any tea. With Carmelina in charge, I’d expect no fewer than five wine selections, some prosecco, a few tiny bottles of limoncello, and a whole lot of cheap Kentucky bourbon.”
Dave wiggled his eyebrows. “All the better to remove the sting of disapproval from our questionable fashion choices.”
“Don’t be silly. You look very handsome.” Marcos kissed his husband’s cheek. “And if anyone says different, I’ll beat the living crap out of them.”
Dave grinned. “You really know the way to a man’s heart.” He frowned. “Oh damn. I forgot the presents. They were right there on the table by the door.” The stress must be getting to me.
Marcos opened the hatchback and pulled out two bright blue bags, holding them up proudly.
“You brought them.” Dave grinned. “Your blind-as-a-bat husband can’t be trusted with anything.”
Marcos shook his head. “Don’t talk like that.” He closed the hatch.
“Too soon?” Dave winked at him.
“Cross that bridge when we have to.” He took Dave’s hand and kissed his cheek. “Come on, handsome. Let’s just go have a good time with our friends.”
#
Gio finished wiping down the last of the prep counters in the training kitchen, making sure they were spotless for the upcoming event.
Babbo and Papà were helping Stella hang wedding decorations—white garland, fancy paper, bells, and bright blue sprays of flowers in alabaster white vases.
“Ci sono troppi fiori!” Diego spread his arms and rolled his eyes, exasperated.
Gio laughed. “It’s a wedding, Papà. You can never have too many flowers.”
“Actually, it’s two weddings. So we need twice as many flowers.” Matteo seemed particularly proud of himself for that math.
“You’re both wrong. The number of flowers is the woman’s choice.” Stella was stringing more garland around the room, dangling it from wall sconce to wall sconce.
Diego and Matteo looked at each other. “Or the gay man’s!” they said together.
Gio shook his head. He had a couple loveable idiots for parents.
Sole was sweeping the floor behind the main presentation counter where Diego would be working. “I think it is beautiful that your friends are getting married together. And here.”
“Just like our wedding.” Diego’s eyes were misty. “Gio, don’t forget to put out all the ingredienti per the cakes.”
“On it, Papà.” Diego had given him the list the night before, and he’d run over to Corti Brothers to pick up a few things that they needed that were not on hand in the kitchen. He headed into the pantry, but just before leaving the main room, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. This is the last time I will ever do this. At least, as part of my regular job.
They had visited the new restaurant space on Friday, and it was perfect. It needed a lot of work— the previous tenants had trashed the place when they left, something about a rent dispute. And it had been empty for half a year. But he could already see it in his mind. Some day in the not too distant future, it would be Amici.
He glanced at the clock. Nine AM. They had another half hour or forty-five minutes before people started showing up.
Today they would spend with friends. Tomorrow, his real work would begin.
“Heads up! One hour to showtime!”
#
Carmelina climbed into the car next to Daniele, her husband to be. Never thought I’d say that again. Somehoe, though, it didn’t scare her anymore.
“Sei belissima, cara mia.”
She laughed. “Keep reminding me why I am marrying you.” She hadn’t seen her husband’s ghost since that night on the hillside, but if she closed her eyes, she could feel his touch on her hand, his kiss on her cheek. Arthur would approve. “Besides, if you think this is beautiful, you’ve got something wrong in your head.”
She was dressed in comfortable sweats and sneakers, with her favorite Italian apron wrapped around her waist, covered in puckered pink lips and the word baci, for kisses.
“You are always beautiful to me.” Daniele was wearing a stylish Italian suit with a skinny black tie and a turquoise blue carnation on his lapel. And wrapped around the whole thing, he had on a matching apron, only his kisses were in red.
He started up the car and backed out of the driveway. Sam and Oscar had left an hour before, heading to a mysterious meeting. I hope they find happiness. “Tomorrow, I want to try out some of my bisnonna’s recipes at the bakery, with Marissa.” She’d start with her great grandmother’s specialty, the crostata di ricotta e visciole.
“What, no honeymoon?” He sounded aggrieved, though they’d discussed it the day before. They’d take a special trip later, once things calmed down a bit.
She leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Caro, you are my honeymoon.”
#
Diego looked around his classroom, pleased to see so many of his old friends and students there for this very special class, and for the weddings to follow. La mia famiglia.
“We are gathering here today to celebrate the cakes of two couples who are very much in love.”
One counter was empty—Sam and his new friend Oscar hadn’t yet arrived. He hoped they were okay. Sam had been through so much this year.
Matteo put an arm around Diego’s waist and took over. “Because neither of these two couples getting married today is in any way traditional…”
There was a general snicker and murmur of agreement about that through the room.
“…Diego has decided to have us prepare a non-traditional wedding cake. Or rather, ten wedding cakes. It’s called the Torta Tenerina, and it’s a specialty of Ferrara, and one of the most decadent cakes Italia has to offer.”
And wait until you taste it. Diego piped up again. “It’s a chocolate torta—excuse me, cake—that we’ll make with eggs, sugar, a little flour, milk, salt and butter. You should have every the things you need at your station—”
The front door opened, letting in a cool gust of morning air and a bright ray of sunshine.
“Sorry, everyone. Oscar’s meeting ran a bit late.” Sam brushed off his shirt, knocking a couple of leaves onto the clean floor. “Man, it’s windy out there.”
Carmelina chuckled. “I’m just glad you didn’t burst in like that at the whole ‘if anyone has a reason’ part.”
The whole room laughed.
“We’re not doing that, right?” Daniele looked worried.
“No, tesoro.” Carmelina kissed his cheek, and the worry lines on his face smoothed out.
He has good reason to be worried. She denied him for so long. Diego crossed his fingers for them both.
Matteo indicated the empty station. “Grab your spot. We’re just getting started.”
“Thanks!” Sam blushed.
When they were behind their station, Diego continued. “Let’s get started. First, chop up the chocolate into little tiny pieces, like this…”
#
Carolina dumped the chopped-up pieces of dark chocolate into the double boiler and picked up the spoon to stir the chocolate, inhaling deeply as the slivers began to melt and fuse into one another. “Nothing like the smell of melting chocolate in the morning.”
Daniele looked on over her shoulder. “I love to watch you cook.” He put hs arms around hers as she stirred the melting chocolate.
She reached up to graze his neck with her fingertips. “I’ve been cooking and baking since I was a little girl at my Nonna’s knee. I always loved the smell of chocolate.” She pushed a recalcitrant piece off the edge of the pot and into the melting inferno. “Have you ever made this before?”
He shook his head. “No, my family was from farther north, near Milan. Ferrara is closer to Venice. I’ve had it before, though. It’s delicious.”
“You can’t go wrong with chocolate. It’s a little like brownies, right?”
He glanced over their copy of the recipe. “Yes, but it uses real chocolate instead of cocoa powder. You Americans have shortcuts for everything.” He kissed her cheek.
She laughed. “It’s our superpower. If you want to get something done faster—”
“Give it to a lazy man?”
“Or an American. Want to cut up the butter into little cubes?” She gestured at the wrapped up rectangle.
“Certainly, bella donna. Your wish is my command.” They’d been together for nine years, tested by secrets and time, and she still fell for his Italian charm every damned time.
Now that she had decided to marry him, she felt free, light, almost giddy inside. Like she was finally allowing herself to do something she should have done years before. To become Ms. Daniele Amoroso. Even if she hadn’t yet decided if she would change her last name. There’s such a thing as too much change.
“Here you go.” He’d sliced the butter into near-perfect cubes.
She nodded approvingly. I taught you well. “Okay, start putting in two at a time while I stir them. Keep it up until they’re all blended into the chocolate.”
“Understood.” A pair of butter cubes slipped off the plate into the pan and started to melt immediately. She stirred them into the chocolate, marveling at how the two blended so seamlessly into something new. Like me and Daniele.
And all of a sudden, she understood why Marissa wanted to come back to this. There was magic in cooking, in the kitchen, and once you’d experienced it, life out in the real world paled in comparison.
She glanced across the room and met her granddaughter’s gaze. She smiled and nodded.
A grin blossomed on Marissa’s face.
Then Ainsley said something to her and she broke eye contact, nodding and laughing at whatever her girlfriend had told her.
It was good to see her granddaughter smiling again. It was almost like seeing her own daughter Andrea brought back to life, watching her finding her own path. Carmelina was proud of her only grandchild.
“Do you ever think about her?” Daniele dropped two more cubes of butter into the pan.
“Who?” Stir stir stir, watch as the butter bubbles and melts…
“Your daughter.”
Carmelina took a deep breath and sighed. It had almost killed her when she’d found out that Daniele was responsible for Andrea’s death. A horrible accident, but it had come close to derailing their blossoming relationship. Now it was an old scar on her soul, smoothed out and faded by time, only felt in its tightness every now and then. “Maybe once or twice a week.”
“I think of her every day.”
She turned to stare at him, almost knocking the pot off the stove. “You do?”
He nodded, and she saw the old pain in his eyes, the same pain that had lived in her own heart for so many years.
She touched his cheek. “I forgave you for it long ago. You have to forgive yourself for it too.”
His eyes welled up with tears. “It’s hard. If only I hadn’t gone out that night—”
“It happened. It wasn’t your fault, and I know that. She would be happy to see Marissa here with the two of us.”
He nodded. “Maybe so.” His eyes went wide. “Watch the chocolate!”
Carmelina turned her attention back to the pan, stirring it before it could burn. “I got it.”
He put his arms around her waist from behind and held her close. “Forever and sempre, cara mia.”
The warmth spread through her belly. “I love you too.”
#
Marissa looked up. Someone’s watching me.
Her nonna Carmelina was looking at her from across the room. When their eyes met, Carmelina smiled and nodded.
The meaning was immediately clear. She understands.
“And then they let me actually paint part of the canvas, these rolling hills they modeled after both the Sacramento Foothills and their home in South Korea. My brushstrokes on their canvas. It was amazing.” Ainsley was almost vibrating with excitement.
Marissa laughed, delighted. “That’s amazing. They’re good to you?” After what happened at the showing, they better be. She whisked the sugar into the egg whites.
“So good. They said I was like the daughter they never had. They want me to come to the installation when the work is done.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, you could come with me. I haven’t been to San Francisco since I was a child.”
“I’d love to.” Marissa struggled to identify what she was feeling. It was frothy and light, and it made her all warm inside. Then it hit her. I’m happy.
It was like emerging from gray fog into the sunlight. Her whole life was changing. She should have been scared to death, but instead she felt as if her heart was on fire. She wanted to create, to do, to become. To change lives with her culinary inventions. To cook.
Diego stopped by their station to check on their work. “Very good.” He looked so official in his chef’s whites.
Marissa beamed. “This is going to be delicious.” Chocolate was one of her favorites.
Diego nodded. “You have a natural gift.”
Marissa blushed. “Thank you.” He had always been kind to her.
He crossed his arms. “I have a proposal for you.”
“Sure.” Maybe he wants me to go full time. So far, she’d been managing about thirty hours a week in the kitchen, mostly washing dishes, but occasionally helping with prep. That would be amazing.
“You may have heard that Gio is leaving to open up a new restaurant in Folsom.”
“He is?” She blinked, taking that in. Somehow, she’d assumed he would always live in his little bedroom above Ragazzi. “That’s great—he’ll be so good at it.” It felt good to see him doing so well. She’d been so guilty about how she had treated him for so long. Maybe she could let go of that now, too.
Diego nodded. “Yes, he will. But I need to replace him.”
“Of course.” She wasn’t sure why he was asking her. She’d been there for almost a week—maybe he wanted an outsider’s perspective? “Let’s see. Maybe Alex? He’s been here for a long time and knows the ropes—”
“Alex isn’t interested.” He stared at her.
She blinked. What am I not getting? “Then I’m not sure what you want from me.”
Ainsley poked at her. “I think he means—”
“Wait, are you saying it should be me?” The idea took her aback.
“You have the gift. And you have… how do they say? A head in business?”
“A head for business.” Ainsley looked back and forth between then. “Oh my God, that would be amazing. You would be so good at it.”
Marissa shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Ainsley took her by the arms and shook her. Gently, but hard enough to get her attention. “Remember what we talked about? This is your dream. You were born to do this.”
She shivered, whether from fear or excitement, she couldn’t decide. Probably both.
Marissa bit her lip. “I guess—”
“Then say yes! Remember? Big leap together?” Ainsley’s eyes met hers, and Marissa felt as if Ainsley was looking into the depths of her soul.
She’d been dreaming of something like this for so long. I can do this.
She turned back to Diego, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “When do I start?”
#
Gio watched Marissa’s face light up with joy as Diego gave her the news.
It had been his idea—Papà had asked him who should replace him when he went to the new restaurant, and Gio had immediately suggested her.
She had finally confessed to him—told him what had happened between them when they’d broken up. After all these years, he was at peace with it.
Marissa was one of the smartest people he knew, and she loved cooking as much as he did. She would work well with Diego, who loved her like a daughter.
“You and she were… together?” Sole stared at him with her exotic eyes.
He had started to get used to them—the sight of them, or her very pale skin and hair no longer startled him. “A long time ago. It’s good to see her happy.”
“I’m sure she’s happy to see you smiling again, too.”
He stared at her. “Am I?” She was right. He could feel the joy coursing through him. I’m getting my own place!
She nodded. “Ever since we visited the restaurant the other day. You have so many ideas inside you, just bursting to get out. I am so grateful to be here with you to explore them all.”
He was happy to have her too. I don’t want you to leave. “Maybe you could stay.” She already felt like a sister to him.
She shook her head. “I don’t belong here. Italy is my home. But I want to learn from you, and maybe one day open a place of my own there.” She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I am lucky to have such a smart cousin.”
He laughed. “I should be saying that.” How things had changed in just a week, since he’d met her and her mother Stella. “Tomorrow we’ll get started on the new place. We have a ton to get accomplished.”
She flashed him a shy smile. “I can’t wait.”
#
Marcos poured the rich, thick chocolate mixture into the round pan. It smelled absolutely delicious, the notes of melted chocolate and butter evoking memories of his mother cooking mole for them when he was a child.
From the next station over, Sam glanced at their work. “Damn, you guys are quick.”
Dave grinned. “We make a great team.”
Marcos nodded, pinching Dave’s side playfully. “Always have. We are going to win the Great British Bakeoff.”
Sam laughed. “It’s not a competition.” He had a long trail of melted chocolate dripping down his blue button-up shirt.
“Maybe not, but we’re still going to win.” He licked a little of the chocolate mixture off the spoon. “It’s been good to have you guys here.” It was still hard for Marcos to believe that Brad was gone. So many nights they had worked on the old LGBT Center website together in that creaky old Victorian on L street right next to the railroad tracks.
And then there was the night Brad had come with him to rescue Marissa from jail.
Sam nodded. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this place.” He looked at Oscar, who nodded.
“Go ahead. Tell them.” He was using a rubber spatula to fill their own cake pan with batter.
Sam took a deep breath and then exhaled. “There’s a chance I might be coming back to Sacramento for good.”
Marcos’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Marcos, watch what you’re doing.” Dave gently nudged his arm back over the cake pan.
“Sorry!” He looked down and realized he’d almost poured half the mix onto the counter. “How is that possible?”
“I can work from anywhere. That’s one of the perks of being a writer. Though my latest book is already seriously overdue, and my editor is going to kill me. And Oscar here just interviewed for a job at the LGBT Center. With his experience and references, he’s practically a shoo-in. We could be back here in a few weeks.”
Dave clapped him on the back. “That’s great news!”
Marcos narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. You said we. Does that mean…?”
Again, Oscar and Sam shared a glance.
“It’s too soon to say.” Sam closed his eyes. “I mean, I just lost Brad. Everything feels so raw. And yet… I think he’d want me to be happy.” He sighed. “For now, Oscar and I are just friends, but he was looking for a change of scene, so when this opportunity came up… We’ve agreed to see what happens.”
It was fast. As Sam said, he’d only just lost Brad. But Marcos loved Sam, and so far, he really liked Oscar too. Everyone deserves to be happy. “I think it’s good to take it slow. If it’s meant to happen, it will.”
Sam wiped the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, Marcos. That means a lot, coming from you. I know how much you loved Brad.”
He set down the empty pan. “Hey, Oscar and I might be working together. I just got the nod for running the LGBT Center on Sac State’s campus. And it’s all because of Brad. He put in a good word for me before he… passed.” There it was again. Acknowledgment that Brad was truly gone.
Seeing the tears forming again in Sam’s eyes, he put his arms around his longtime friend. “I know. I feel it too. Every time I think about him. But you’re right. He would want us to be happy. Maybe that’s the best gift we can give him.”
Sam nodded, squeezing Marcos tight. “That, and always remembering him.”
“That too, my friend. That too.” It was a promise he was sure he could keep/
#
Ben peered into the oven through the thick glass window, watching their cake bake. It was about halfway done, the top just starting to crust over.
“A watched pot never boils.” Lorelei put a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
“Yeah, but are we sure that applies to cakes? Technically, I don’t think batter can boil…”
She chuckled. “Why don’t you come up here and look at me instead?”
He did as he was told. He wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her.And baking cakes with her. And whatever else life might bring them.
She tapped his nose with her index finger. “This is certainly an untraditional wedding.”
Ben’s mother laughed. “My son is nothing if not untraditional.” She looked a bit pale but had dressed up in bright blue for the occasion.
Ben felt the blood drain out of his face. She hates it. What was I thinking? “I’m sorry. This was a terrible idea. You probably wanted a whole church thing, with a white dress and a minister and doves and hundreds of people and…”
She put a finger over his lips, silencing him. “I got the white dress.” She spread her arms and curtseyed. “Pretty, right?”
You’re just trying to make me feel better. “Yes but…”
“No buts. This wedding is perfect. We’re baking a cake together, which is a beautiful metaphor for how we’re going to build a life for ourselves. We’re here with all of your friends, and soon I’ll be able to call myself Mrs. Ben Hammond.” She pulled him in for a kiss.
He didn’t refuse her. Her lips were warm and soft, and she smelled like lavender.
When they separated at last, he looked deep into her eyes, searching for any trace of displeasure. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m sure.”
“Mom, Max won’t let me use the iPad.” Mia, Lorelei’s youngest, tugged at her dress.
“Just a second, honey.” She kissed Ben’s cheek. “I gotta deal with this. Hold that thought.” She followed her daughter back toward the break room, where they’d set the kids up with half a dozen entertainment options to keep them busy.
Ben’s mother leaned into him, putting her arm around his waist. “I’m proud of you, my little gosling.”
Ben blushed. She hadn’t called him that since he was little. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Lorelei’s a good one. And finally I get to have some grandkids. You know I’m going to spoil them rotten for as long as I can.”
For that, there was no reply.
Instead, he just held her more tightly, thanking his lucky stars for whatever time they had left.
#
Diego stood before the two engaged couples, dressed in a sharp Italian suit, though it wasn’t quite as nice as Daniele’s. Behind him on the main counter, a dozen chocolate cakes were cooling, dusted in powdered sugar and giving off a heavenly scent.
He clasped his hands, looking around at the expectant audience.
“We are gathered here today…” He made a show of looking at his notes. “Sorry. They wanted a non-traditional wedding. So let’s forget all the usual formalnesses.” He grinned. “Who wants to see a wedding?”
The crowd laughed and then cheered.
Matteo gave him a thumbs-up from the side of the restaurant, where he was standing and ready to do his part.
“I have recently become officially ordained at SoYouWantToBeAWeddingVendor.com to perform weddings in the state of California. Carmelina, and Daniele, would you like to exchange your vows?” As an aside to the crowd, he stage-whispered, “They asked me to keep this short. There’s cake and champagne waiting, after all.” His stomach rumbled, as if on cue.
Their friends and family chuckled.
“If the restaurant biz ever goes south, you could do this for a living.” Gio winked at him.
Diego gave him a thumb’s-up. “Daniele?”
Carmelina’s fiancé flashed him his bright Italian smile, and then turned to his fiancée. “Cara mia, I knew, ever since that day that we bumped into each other in the grocery store line at Corti Brothers, that I would marry you someday. I just didn’t think you would make me wait quite so long.”
The crowd laughed.
“However, like a fine wine, you have only become better with age. I promise to make every day a new adventure… or at least to bring you your fuzzy bunny slippers every morning and rub your tired feet at night. And I will hold every dream of yours in my heart like a precious thing.”
Carmelina blushed. “Not bad. And yes, I made you wait, but the longer the wait, the better the wine. I’m just glad you didn’t compare me to cheese!”
This time Diego himself snorted, and covered his mouth quickly to cover his lapse. He shrugged. Sorry.
Carmelina ignored him. “Daniele, I promise to tell you when you are wrong, which will probably be a lot, and admit when I am, which will be considerably less. And I want to keep building our life together, one bunch of flowers and one gooey chocolate croissant at a time.” She took a deep breath. “I was with my husband Arthur for decades. Letting go of him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
She found Sam in the crowd. Their eyes met, and he nodded solemnly. So did Ben.
“But I firmly believe the ones we loved are still here with us, and that they want more than anything to see us happy again. And I will be happy with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that may be.”
The audience applauded.
“The bride and groom have decided to forego an exchange of rings. Are the two of you ready to seal the deal?”
Daniele and Carmelina nodded.
“Daniele, do you promise to love and support Carmelina for as long as you walk this Earth?”
Daniele nodded, gazing into Carmelina’s eyes. “I do.”
“And do you, Carmelina, promise to love and support Daniele for as long as you walk this Earth, and also to supply him with tasty baked treats from time to time?”
Carmelina chuckled. “Had to get that one added, didn’t you?”
“If you were marrying a woman who was as good a cook as you, wouldn’t you?”
A smile of delight curved her lips. “Touché. And I do.”
They really are perfect for each other. “Then I now declare you husband and wife. Carmelina, you may kiss the groom.”
Carmelina wrapped her arms around Daniele and bent him over backwards, V-J Day style, for a very passionate kiss.
Their friends all cheered, and Diego fought back the urge to cry. It still amazed him, after all these years, how this group of people had found each other and become the best of friends.
“That’s gonna be a hard act to follow.” Ben grinned, and Lorelei pinched his arm.
“Oh come on, Ben. You’re a writer.” It was Sam this time, catcalling from the audience. “You’re gonna knock it out of the park.”
Ben did the “I’m watching you” sign with his fingers, but he grinned.
Diego cleared his throat again. “Ben and Lorelei, it’s your turn. Ben, you have been a part of our little crew since the start. Lorelei, you’re a new addition. But we was all talking, and we decided that if things ever—how do you say?—go south between you two, we’re keeping you and dumping him.”
Laughter filled the room.
Ben looked mock-offended, but then nodded. “That’s fair. She’s my better half, after all.”
Diego winked at him. “Please share your vows.”
Ben took Lorelei’s hand. “I never told you this, but a drag queen led me to you. Well, technically she was a matchmaker too. But when I was lost and afraid I would never find love again, she told me that you were the one for me.”
She smiled, lighting up her face. “Really?”
“Really.”
She reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. “Go on.”
“From the moment I met you, it was magic. You brought me back from the darkness of when Ella died. You made me laugh and believe in myself again. Even unclogging your toilet was wonderful, because it meant I got to spend a little more time with you.”
“This is the strangest wedding I have ever attended.” Ben’s mother spoke up this time. “And also one of the best.”
Diego nodded in agreement. It really is.
Ben took Lorelei’s hand. “I promise to always fix your broken things. To be there when you call. And to end each day with you, no matter how far apart we might be.”
She touched his cheek. “I kind of wish my toilet had overflowed sooner.”
There were chuckles of amusement from the crowd.
Lorelei pulled a card out of her pocket. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”
Diego nodded. “That’s all right. Take your time.
She took a deep breath, and began to read. “Ben, you showed up after I had stopped looking. And you became the hero I didn’t know I needed. I never wanted to get married again. Once burned, twice shy, right?”
He nodded and took her free hand. The love between them was palpable.
“But you made me want to stand up here again and open my heart to trust you. You made me want to believe in love again.” She looked up from the card and into his eyes. “I promise to be your hero, to stand up for you when no one else will, and to hold your hand like this until the day we pass from this Earth.” She glanced over at Carmelina. “Oh and I’ll do that tasty baked treats thing for you too, provided you keep me in the quantity of chocolate to which I have become accustomed.” That was followed by a meaningful glance at the wedding cakes.
Ben grinned. “Deal.” And without waiting for Diego’s permission, Ben kissed his new bride.
Out of the corner of his eye, Diego caught sight of movement by the front door. He looked up, and just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw Brad standing there, giving him a smile and a nod. Then he was gone in a flash of green.
Diego rubbed his eyes. “Well…” He shrugged. “I guess they declared themselves husband and wife.” Untraditional right up to the end. “Now it’s time for the party!” He signaled Matteo, and his husband pulled the cord, dropping a velvet curtain to reveal The Three Queens, a drag queen trio and cover band who immediately broke into song with Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.”
It was the perfect ending to a ceremony.
#
The party ran well into the evening, long after dinner had been served and all the wedding cakes consumed. All save two, which were going home with the newly married couples.
Carmelina and Daniele departed first. Ben and Lorelei excused themselves soon after, explaining that his mother had promised to watch after the kids that night, and they had a little private celebrating of their own to do at home.
When the last of the guests finally said their goodbyes, Matteo went looking for his husband. He found Diego on the back steps, sipping a cup of espresso and staring up at the trees and stars.
“Mind if I join you?” It was a gorgeous evening, the stars sparkling like little holes poked in a dark blue sheet in the clear night.
“Certo.” His husband moved over a little to make room.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, listening to the wind through the branches of the big magnolia tree on 48th Street next door, and the occasional whoosh of a car passing by.
Diego offered him the cup.
Matteo took it and sipped some of the still warm coffee. It was early summer, but it still dropped down into the fifties later at night. It had taken him nearly a decade, but he had finally gotten used to using Fahrenheit instead of Celsius. Mostly.
“Tomorrow, everything changes.” Diego sounded melancholy.
Matteo chuckled. “Everything is always changing.” He handed back the mug.
“You know what I mean. Tomorrow my baby boy—”
Matteo snorted. “Not such a baby anymore.”
“My baby boy moves out to start his own life.” Diego took a long sip of coffee. “I’m not ready.”
Matteo put an arm around Diego’s shoulders and pulled him close. I’m not ready either. But for Diego’s sake, he had to be. “He’s a good young man. Luna raised him well, and you took over when she was gone. You should be proud of him.”
Diego sighed. “I know. I am. I just—- I don’t wants to lose him.”
“I know.” Diego had always been the more sensitive of the two of them. Things hit him harder, and this thingwas one of the hardest of all. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?” Diego narrowed his eyes.
“Just do it.” Matteo took the mug away and set it aside.
“Okay. But don’t try to make me scared.”
“I promise.” He closed his eyes too. “Now tell me what you see when you think of Gio’s future.”
He was silent for a moment, his hands still in his lap. “Hmmm… I see… the new restaurant in Folsom. On opening night. It’s—affollato?”
“Packed?”
“Yes. It’s packed. And there’s someone else there. A woman, with him.”
“Sole? Stella?” They were both very distinctive.
“No. I don’t know. It’s… I think she is with him.” There was wonder in his voice.
“He’s not alone.” Matteo opened his eyes.
Diego was smiling. His eyes flickered open too. “He’s not alone.” He frowned. “I hope I don’t hate her.”
Matteo shook his head and chuckled. “Me too.” Gio would make his own choices now, whether they liked them or not.
“What are you guys doing out here? There’s a ton of stuff to be cleaned up.” Gio sounded mildly annoyed.
Matteo and Diego broke into laughter. “We’ll be inside in a minute.” Matteo waved Gio away. “Give your parents a little time to ourselves.”
“Gross. But hurry up. I don’t want to do everything myself.” Gio slammed the door.
Matteo took Diego’s hand in his. “We built this. You and me.”
Diego kissed his cheek. “We did. You and me and our friends. And whatever happens next, we’ll all deal with it. Together.”
They looked up at the sky just as a bright light blazed a trail across the inky blackness.
“Make a wish?” Diego sounded playful. Under the silver light of the stars, he looked fifteen years younger than he was. Like he did when we first met.
“I already have everything I want.” He leaned in and kissed Diego, and it was as good as that first time. Better even, because they knew so much more about life, love and friendship than they had on that wonderful, intoxicating night.
And now, he knew for sure that things were going to be all right.
“Come on.” He got up and held out his hand. “There’s so much more we have to do.”
Diego took his hand. Together, they went back inside.
Above the stars sparkled just a little bit brighter.
Torta Tenerina
Serves 8 people
7 oz high quality dark chocolate
3 medium eggs
¾ cup sugar
½ cup flour
3 teaspoons of warmed milk
A pinch of salt
½ cup of butter
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Chop up the dark chocolate bar into small pieces and melt them in a double boiler to prevent the chocolate from scorching, until it becomes creamy and smooth. Cut the butter into small cubes, and add two at a time to the chocolate over the heat, stirring the butter into the chocolate until it has been fully absorbed before adding more. Once all the butter has been blended into the chocolate, remove the pan from the heat and set it aside to cool.
In the meantime, shell the eggs and separate the yolks from the whites. Put the egg yolks in a bowl and whisk in half of the sugar until you get a light and frothy mixture. Keep whisking as you add the chocolate-butter blend into the frothy eggs and sugar.
Add the warmed milk and flour to the mixture, and stir the ingredients well to make a smoothly blended mixture with no lumps.
In another bowl, beat the egg whites, adding in the pinch of salt and the rest of the sugar until it forms a compact white cream. Then use a rubber spatula or wooden spoon to gently fold the egg white mixture into the chocolate mixture from the bottom up.
Line a 9” round pan with parchment paper and pour the cake mixture into it, spreading it smoothly around the pan with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula.
Cook the cake in the oven for 25-30 minutes, and then turn off the oven. Leave the oven door ajar, and let the cake cool for 15 minutes. Once it has cooled, carefully remove it from the pan and place it on a serving plate.
< Read Chapter 62
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.