It Had To Be You (3 page)

“You’re marrying into a true-blue Italian family. That’s close enough.” I wriggled into his arms, and we enjoyed a kiss for the record books.

Just then, my pop walked into the room. He narrowed his gaze. “Hey, no PDA.”

Pop was half-kidding, but I knew what he meant. No public displays of affection. Not until after marriage, of course. D.J. and I backed away from each other as my father grabbed the placemats and started putting them in place.

“Oh, to be young again.” Pop sighed but continued his work.

“No one says you have to be young to be in love,” Laz said, entering the room. “Look at me and Rosa! I’ll be sixty-seven next month, and she’s—”

“She’s not keen on you telling everyone her age,” I threw in.

Laz grinned. “You’re probably right. But you don’t have to be young to be in love.”

Just then, the sound of swing music filled the room. Laz’s face lit up. “Ah. Rosa must’ve put in the Glenn Miller CD. We’re trying to get in the mood before our big day.” He laughed. “Get it? ‘In the mood’?”

D.J.’s bright red cheeks faded to a somewhat lighter color as Laz explained that “In the Mood” was the name of a Glenn Miller song.

We continued to set up the room for dinner, adding Aunt Rosa’s hand-painted plates from her beloved Napoli, silverware that had been in the family for over fifty years, and beautiful etched glasses Mama had purchased on her last European jaunt. When it was all said and done, D.J. and I stood back and stared at the table. He let out a whistle.

“Man. Looks like something out of a magazine.”

“Prettier than a magazine,” I added.

Rosa entered with a serving dish in hand. Chicken parmesan. The sauce still bubbled, and the melted mozzarella on top was perfectly browned. Yum! I could hardly wait to take my first bite.

The pungent aroma of garlic now permeated the room. I drew in a long breath, savoring every second. My mouth watered as I looked down at the table. The vibrant colors of the red tomato gravy and the crisp, green Caesar salad drew my eye. These, combined with the steam coming from the buttered garlic twists, made me so hungry I could hardly wait for the others.

Still, I must wait. Probably wouldn’t be very nice to dive right in ahead of the crowd. No, that sort of thing was left to Armando, who had a habit of beating the rest of us to the punch. When he bothered to show up, anyway.

By the time Rosa and Laz had the food on the table, the room was full. My brother Joey arrived first with his fiancée. Norah gave me a hug and commented on my new blouse, a silky green number I’d picked up on a recent trip to the Galleria in Houston. My older brother Nick arrived next with his boys, Deany-boy and Frankie.

“Hey, where’s Marcella?” I asked, looking around.

“She’s here. Just had to make a pit stop.”

True enough, Marcella walked into the dining room a couple of minutes later, her protruding belly leading the way. She looked miserably uncomfortable, in spite of her stretchy maternity attire.

“How’s it going at the florist shop?” I asked. “Did you get all of the flowers ordered for Rosa?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I finally found them at that great place in Houston near the medical center.” She released a groan as she took a seat. “Sorry if I seem a little out of sorts. I’ve been on my feet all day, and this baby is giving me fits.”

“Morning sickness?” I asked.

“No, that passed ages ago. I’m starting to feel him move now.”

“Him?” I quirked a brow in Nick’s direction, wondering if he and his wife had been keeping something from us. Marcella and Nick already had two boys. Two hyper, disobedient boys, who had now taken to fighting over where they were going to sit. I was holding out for a girl this time around. Surely her timely arrival would break the evil spell.

My sister Sophia entered the room moments later with my ex-boyfriend on her heels. I’d known Tony DeLuca for years. He was, as my mother put it, practically perfect in every way. Came from just the right family line in Sicily. Spoke fluent Italian. Was shockingly handsome. Still, I’d never truly fallen for him, and in the end, I’d broken his heart with my rejection of his affections.

Funny. As he gazed into my sister’s big brown eyes, he didn’t look heartbroken now. Tony had always enjoyed hanging out at the Rossi home. Perhaps he’d had the right address all along, just the wrong girl.

Not that I minded. Oh no. My gaze shifted to the one person whose heartstrings were looped with my own—D.J. Neeley. The background music changed to a familiar swing number, and I wanted to grab him by the hand and ask for a spin around the dance floor. Only, not now. Those tantalizing garlic twists still called out to me. There would be plenty of time for dancing later, especially if this swing music kept up.

Within seconds, everyone in the household was gathered around the table. My gaze shifted from my perfectly made-up mother to my father, who had actually combed his hair and put on a shirt for dinner. Then I transitioned my thoughts to Laz as he pulled out a seat for Rosa. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen this loving, tender side of him. Ah, what love could do to a crusty old heart! It had melted Uncle Laz like the mozzarella on top of the chicken parmesan.

“Let’s pray.” Pop’s voice rang out above the chatter of my other family members.

We all reached to take hands, though I noticed Deany-boy and Frankie refused to touch each other. Nothing new there. They would come around in time, surely.

I closed my eyes and listened as my father’s melodic voice rang out. Even after half a lifetime in the States, he still had that marvelous lyrical sound to his voice—kind of like water flowing over rocks.

When the prayer ended, everyone began to talk at once. To my left, Nick and Joey talked about something that had happened at Parma John’s. Marcella and Rosa talked about flowers. Mama told Pop about a website she’d found with great deals on European vacations. Laz and D.J. talked about music for the upcoming wedding. Sophia chatted with Norah about wedding dresses. Deany-boy and Frankie argued over a video game. The only one not talking was, well, me. Not that I minded. I was having too much fun just listening.

As always, the voices overlapped. I heard snippets of a thousand conversations.

“Are you thinking of using babies’ breath—”

“—to take a train to the wine country. Then we’ll move on to the Vatican. After that, we’ll—”

“—add a new pizza to our menu. I’m thinking it’s going to be—”

“—a great swing number that the band can play. And speaking of bands, we’ve hired the best one in the country. Wait till you see their—”

“—new video game! It’s the best. Even better than a—”

“—pink wedding dress? Are you kidding me? White is still the ideal color for a wedding dress, no matter what the bridal magazines try to tell you. Those—”

“—Double Delight roses have the prettiest petals I’ve ever seen in my life. Have you ever seen such a great mixture of colors and—”

“What a dish! This chicken parmesan is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life. I’d like another—”

“Garlic twist, anyone?” Rosa held up the plate, and Nick reached for it, never dropping a line in his conversation with Joey about the new pizza they planned to add to the menu at Parma John’s.

Above the noise, a pinging sound rang out. I looked across the table to see Laz tapping his water glass with his spoon. “Attention, everyone. Attention. Rosa and I have an announcement to make.”

“You’re eloping?” Pop suggested with a smile.

“Over my dead body!” I whispered, chasing away the shudder that wiggled down my spine. They’d better not!

“I’ve talked about this for months, but I’ve finally decided to officially retire from the restaurant,” Laz said. “Want to give my undivided attention to our wedding and our wedding guests.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Rosa beamed with delight.

“Nick and Joey can handle things without me,” Laz said. “And if I can keep Jenna focused, I think the transition will be fine.”

Keeping my best friend focused might be harder than he knew. She was, after all, in love.

Laz put his hand to his chest and spoke with a tremor in his voice. “I have more news to share. As you know, my good friend Salvadore Lucci has entrusted Guido to us for a season. I don’t take that season lightly. The Lord has given us this time to minister to Guido in the hopes that he will remember what he’s learned and share it with Sal when the time comes.”

I sighed, thinking about my uncle’s passion to reach out to his friend Sal. Call it desperation. Call it inspiration from on high. Laz had this idea that Sal would be won by the words coming from Guido’s beak, so he’d been filling the bird’s head with sermons, songs, and Scriptures. He called this the “Triple S” program.

I watched with tenderness wrapping my heart as Laz dabbed his eyes and whispered,
“Chi la dura la vince.”
I knew the translation, of course: “He who perseveres wins at last.” Laz would keep at this until the very end, if need be.

From across the table, Pop’s voice rang out. “What are you saying, Laz? Is Sal coming to get Guido? To take him back to Atlantic City?”

Laz nodded and his eyes filled with tears. “Yes. I’m gonna miss the old bird.” He dabbed his eyes. “Guido, I mean.”

“When is Sal coming?” Sophia asked.

Laz’s eyes lit with excitement. “One week before our big day. He will stay at the Tremont and help me with the wedding plans. In fact …” Laz’s eyes brimmed over. “Sal has agreed to be my best man.”

I stifled the gasp that threatened to escape at this news. Sal? Was he serious?

Nick looked at Laz in horror. “You picked someone with mob ties to stand up for you at your wedding? Are you kidding me?”

“Nicholas, please.” Laz shook his head. “Sal is seventy-six years old. Whatever ties he might’ve had have long since been severed. And, as you know, my primary goal is to win Salvadore Lucci to the Lord while there is still time, so please do not question my motives.”

The room fell silent. Rarely did we hear Laz chasten anyone in such a way. But as I looked into his tear-filled eyes, I realized the truth—he genuinely cared about Sal’s relationship with the Lord and would do whatever it took to share the truth of God’s love with his friend. No one could fault him for his passion. His common sense, perhaps, but not his passion.

D.J. leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I think your uncle is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. Next to my dad and your father, of course.”

Well, there you had it. D.J. Neeley—Galveston’s hunkiest cowboy—could see straight through to my uncle’s heart and apparently loved what he saw. Which only made me love D.J. Neeley all the more.

The weeks before Rosa and Laz’s big day flew by at warp speed. Before long, everything was running together in my head. And I’d never heard so much swing music in all my life! Rosa and Laz played it around the clock, listening to tunes that kept my toes tapping. Every song made me want to get up and dance. But who had time to dance? There were dresses to order, centerpieces to make, linens to press. The workload kept my fingers flying.

Exactly one week before the wedding, Pop led the way to the George Bush Intercontinental Airport on Houston’s north end to pick up our relatives from Napoli. D.J. and I followed in his 4x4. From where I sat in the cab, I felt like a queen—on top of the world. I could hardly contain my excitement as we made our way north on Interstate 45.

“Thanks for doing this, D.J.,” I said. “I know how busy you are at this time of year, so it means a lot to me that you would help pick up my relatives.”

“Sounds like the perfect thing to do on a Saturday,” he said.

“Well, I know you’ve got your new business and all …” Offering up a reassuring smile, I thought about the many possibilities his new construction business would afford.

“I’ve been thinking about asking Bubba to come to work for me. If I can ever find him, I mean.”

“Bubba’s missing?”

“Sort of.” D.J. shrugged. “I tried to call him this morning and he didn’t answer. He didn’t respond to an email I sent yesterday either. If I don’t hear from him by nightfall, I’m going to call my parents and ask about him.”

“It’s not barbecue cook-off season, is it?” I asked. Bubba Neeley was the brisket champion at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Not that I’d ever paid much attention to such things. Until meeting D.J., of course.

“No, it’s not cook-off season.” D.J. shook his head. “Not till late February.”

“Well, this is really odd.” I gave him a pensive look. “Laz told me that Jenna called him a couple of days ago with the most cryptic message. Said something unexpected came up and she wouldn’t be in for a few days. He took it to mean she wasn’t feeling so well, but I’m not sure. She’s been acting so weird lately. Have you noticed?”

“They both have.”

We sat in silence for a moment before one of us—me— finally broke it with a speculation. “D.J., do you think they’re … together?”

His expression tightened. “I know my brother better than that. He’s got his head on straight. He won’t do anything to compromise Jenna. Besides, my mom would kill him if she got wind of the fact that he and Jenna were … well, you know.”

I shook my head, more confused than ever. “She’s not returning my calls. I wonder if she’s upset at me.”

“Why would she be?” D.J. asked.

“No idea.” I offered up a shrug. “I missed a couple of calls from her last week, and I did try to call her back, I promise. I’ve been so busy planning two weddings at once.” A sigh erupted. “I’m a terrible friend.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just distracted. But no one can blame you. Your plate is really full right now, Bella.”

As I glanced at his chiseled features and winsome smile, I had to admit, my plate wasn’t the only thing that was full. Nope. My heart felt pretty full right about now too.

We continued north through Houston. I tried to push all thoughts of my best friend out of my mind to focus on the conversation with the guy I adored. This was the first time in weeks we’d really been alone. Might as well enjoy it.