Julia’s eyes flew open. “Diane who?”
“Diane Stewart.”
“Diane from Kinfolks restaurant?”
“That’s right.” Tom’s gruff reply immediately telegraphed to Julia far more than he realized.
Her jaw dropped in shock.
“Jules? You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Um, sure, I’ll add her to the guest list. Uh, is Diane a—special friend of yours?”
Tom fell silent for a moment. “You could say that.”
“Huh,” said Julia.
Tom ended the conversation quickly and Julia put down her cell phone, wondering which blue plate special had precipitated her father’s new romance.
Definitely not the meatloaf, she thought.
Chapter 55
On January twenty-first, Tom paced nervously at the entrance to the Basilica in Assisi. He was nervous. And the fact that Julia and her bridesmaids were late didn’t help matters. He tugged at his bow tie as he waited. Then, a vision in white velvet over organza floated through the front doors like a luminescent cloud.
He was speechless.
“Dad,” Julia breathed, smiling with excitement as she walked toward him.
Tammy and Rachel helped divest her of her cape and adjust the layers of her skirt, unfolding the train that extended behind her. Then Christina, the wedding planner who was hovering nearby, handed Rachel and Tammy their bouquets, which were a mixture of irises and white roses, designed to match their iris-colored dresses.
“You look pretty,” Tom mumbled, pressing a shy peck to Julia’s cheek through her long veil.
“Thank you.” She flushed, looking down at her bouquet, which consisted of two dozen white roses and a few springs of holly.
“Could you give us a minute?” he asked the others.
“Of course.” Christina pulled Tammy and Rachel to stand at the entrance to the sanctuary, signaling to the organist that the processional was about to begin.
Tom smiled at Julia nervously. “I like your necklace,” he said.
Julia’s hands flew to the pearls that hung around her neck. “They were Grace’s.” She fingered the diamonds in her ears too but elected not to reveal their source.
“I wonder what she’d think about you marrying her son.”
“I’d like to think that she’d be happy. That she’s looking down on us and smiling.”
Tom nodded again and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. “I’m glad you asked me to walk you down the aisle.”
Julia looked puzzled. “I didn’t want to get married without you, Dad.”
He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly in his rented shoes. “I should have kept you when I took you away from Sharon the first time. I never should have sent you back.” His voice cracked.
“Daddy,” she whispered, tears overflowing.
He reached over and hugged her, trying to show her with his embrace what he couldn’t say in words.
“I forgave you a long time ago. We don’t ever need to speak of it again.” She paused, looking up at him. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you’re my Dad.”
“Jules.” Tom gave a strangled cough, then released her with a smile. “You’re a good girl.”
He turned so he could peer down the long aisle that led to the altar, to where Gabriel was standing with his brother and brother-in-law. All three men were dressed in black Armani tuxedoes, with crisp white shirts. However, Scott and Aaron had eschewed Gabriel’s choice of bow ties in favor of regular ones because bow ties were, as Scott put it, “for old men, Young Republicans, or professors.”
“Are you sure about this?” Tom asked. “If you have any doubts, I’ll call a cab and take you home right now.”
Julia squeezed his hand. “No doubts. Gabriel might not be perfect, but he’s perfect for me. We belong together.”
“I told him that I expected him to take care of my little girl. That if he wasn’t prepared to do that, we’d have a problem. He said that if he treated you as anything less than the treasure you are, that I should come after him with my shotgun.” Tom grinned. “I said that suited me fine.”
“Are you ready?”
Julia took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Then let’s do this.” He offered Julia his arm, and they nodded to the bridesmaids to begin the processional to J. S. Bach’s “Sheep May Safely Graze.”
When Julia and Tom entered the Basilica, to the melody of “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” Gabriel’s eyes caught hers and a wide smile spread across his features. The January sun peeked through the doors, illuminating the bride from behind and making her look as if a halo shone around her veiled head.
Gabriel couldn’t stop smiling. He smiled through the entire Mass, including his vows to worship his wife and the performance of selections from Bach’s Sleepers Awake and Mozart’s Exsultate, jubilate by a solo soprano.
After the ceremony, he placed trembling fingers on Julia’s veil and lifted it carefully. He swiped his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping away the happy tears that had trickled down, and kissed her. The kiss was soft and chaste, but full of promise. Then they walked to the lower church and down to the crypt.
They hadn’t planned to do so. Somehow, hands entwined, they found themselves approaching the tomb of St. Francis. In the quiet darkness where Gabriel had his ineffable experience months earlier, they knelt in prayer. Each silently thanked God for the other, for the many blessings He had given them, for Grace and Maia, for their fathers and siblings.
When Gabriel finally stood and lit a single candle, each of them asked God for one more blessing. One small miracle out of the lavishness of his grace. As they ended their prayers, a strange but comforting feeling wrapped around them like a blanket.
“Don’t cry, sweet girl.” Gabriel took her hand to help her to her feet. He wiped her tears away, kissing her. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m so happy,” she said, smiling up at him. “I love you so much.”
“It’s the same for me. I keep wondering how this happened. How did I ever find you again and convince you to become my wife?”
“Heaven smiled on us.”
She reached up to kiss her husband next to St. Francis’s tomb without shame, knowing that her words were truly spoken.
Chapter 56
Later that evening, they changed into their honeymoon clothes, a dark suit for Gabriel and a purple dress for Julia, and sat side by side in a chauffeured car that he’d hired.
Soon the car was pulling up the drive that led to a villa near Todi. The very same villa that Gabriel had rented when they visited Italy the year before.
“Our house,” she whispered, as soon as she caught sight of it.
“Yes.” He kissed the back of her hand as he helped her out of the car. Then he was taking her in his arms and carrying her across the threshold.
“Are you disappointed? I thought you’d prefer some quiet time to ourselves, but if not, we can go to Venice or Rome. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He placed her on her feet.
“This is perfect. I’m so glad you decided to bring us here.” She threw her arms around his neck.
At length, he pulled away. “I think I should carry our luggage upstairs. Are you hungry?”
Julia grinned. “I could eat.”
“Why don’t you see if there’s anything tempting in the kitchen, and I’ll join you soon.”
She leaned forward with a devilish look on her face. “The only thing in the kitchen that would tempt me would be you on top of the kitchen table.”
Her sultry suggestion hearkened back to their previous visit, when they’d christened that table several times. With a deep groan, he quickly carried their suitcases upstairs as if someone was chasing him.
In the kitchen, Julia found the pantry to be fully stocked, as was the refrigerator. She laughed when she saw several bottles of cranberry juice lined up on the counter, as if they were waiting for her. She’d just opened a bottle of Perrier and finished preparing a cheese plate when Gabriel returned. He seemed years younger as he raced into the kitchen, boyish even, his eyes bright and his expression cheerful.
“This looks delicious. Thank you.” He sat at her side, glancing at the kitchen table significantly. “But I have to say that I’d rather our first few times occur in bed.”
Julia felt her skin flush. “This table has happy memories for me.”
“For me too. But we have plenty of time to make new ones. Better ones.” He gave her a heated look.
She felt the flutterings of desire increase.
“Was the wedding everything you hoped for?” He gazed at her eagerly, pouring two glasses of sparkling water.
“It was better. The Mass, the music—having the wedding in the Basilica was incredible. I felt so at peace there.”
Gabriel nodded, for he’d felt that way too.
“I’m glad we only invited family and close friends. I’m sorry I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to Katherine Picton, although I saw you dancing with her twice.” Julia pretended to be offended.
He eyed her in mock surprise. “Really? I danced with her twice? That’s pretty impressive for a septuagenarian. I’m surprised she could keep up with me.”
Julia rolled her eyes at his pretentious choice of adjectives.
“You danced with Richard twice, Mrs. Emerson. I suppose we’re even.”
“He’s my father now too. And he’s an excellent dancer. Very elegant.”
“Better than me?” Gabriel feigned jealousy.
“No one is better than you, darling.” She leaned over to kiss away his pout. “Do you think that he will ever marry again?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He took her hand in his and caressed her knuckles gently, one by one.
“Because Grace was his Beatrice. When you’ve experienced a love such as that, anything less would seem like only a shadow.” He smiled sadly. “Strangely enough, it was the same in Grace’s favorite book, A Severe Mercy. Sheldon Vanauken never remarried after his wife died.
“Dante lost Beatrice when she was just twenty-four. He spent the rest of his life mourning her. If I were to lose you, it would be the same for me. There will never be anyone else. Never,” he emphasized, a fierce but loving look in his eyes.
“I wonder if my father will marry again.”
“Would it trouble you if he did?”
She shrugged. “No. It would take some getting used to, but I’m glad he’s dating someone kind. I’d like him to be happy. I’d like him to have someone kind to grow old with.”
“I’m looking forward to growing old with you,” said Gabriel. “And you are certainly kind.”
“I’m looking forward to growing old with you too.”
Husband and wife exchanged a look then finished their food in relaxed quietness. Afterward, Gabriel stood and stretched out his hand. “I haven’t given you your wedding gifts, yet.”
She took his hand and her fingers touched his wedding band. “I thought our gifts were our rings and the inscriptions inside them: I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved is mine.”