Fools Rush In (25 page)
I watched, awestruck, as Sharlene, Cody, and all of their guests did the “Waltz across Texas,” line-danced with abandon, and two-stepped like pros. I couldn’t help but laugh as Rosa tried her hand—or rather, her feet—at the “Cotton-Eyed Joe.” And the schottische that followed reminded me of one of her folk dances. She was actually quite good at it. Even Uncle Laz joined in, cane in hand. They’d found their common ground—not in Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin music but in country-western. Go figure.
Of course, the night wouldn’t have been complete without the addition of “Boot-Scootin’ Boogie,” which the groom had selected as one of his personal favorites. We all laughed as folks formed long lines, dancing as a group.
At 10:30 we brought the dancing portion of the evening to a close with an announcement from D.J. “Folks, it’s time for the bride and groom to cut the cake.”
I drew near to the beautiful cake, which Rosa had spent hours making. After Sharlene proclaimed it the most beautiful cake she’d ever seen, she and Cody did the usual bride/groom thing—smeared pieces of it all over each other’s faces. Then Mama and Aunt Rosa served up hefty slices for the crowd. After that, speeches were given and toasts were offered.
I found myself getting misty-eyed as parents of the bride and groom took the microphone to speak words of love over their now-married children. How interesting to imagine what my mama and pop would say when their turn came. It’s likely my mother—who would no doubt outshine the bride in appearance—would tell the crowd that she’d wasted twenty-nine years praying for a good Italian boy for her daughter. Pop would probably tell a couple of embarrassing stories, including the one about my misshapen head.
Suddenly, I could hardly wait.
As the evening wore on, several people from Sharlene’s family made a point to thank me for my hard work. I heard everything from “This is a beautiful facility” to “I’ve never seen such a flawless wedding.”
Little did they know.
Little would they ever know.
What happened at Club Wed stayed at Club Wed. No one would be any the wiser. Other than the Rossi and Neeley clans, anyway.
I paused to think about that. For the first time, our two families had something in common. We’d been through the fire together. Literally. And we’d come through it without a trace of smoke in our hair.
Well, most of us.
I prayed those events would unify us, but only time would tell. I scarcely had a chance to ponder this thought before Earline approached and took my hand. “I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am. You have a real gift, Bella.” She gazed into my eyes with both tenderness and depth.
“Oh?”
She gestured around the room. “You’re an amazing wedding coordinator, but there’s more to it than that. You know how to keep things going, even when the pressure’s on.”
“Trust me, only the Lord can do that. If it were up to me, I would’ve stayed in bed this morning after that fiasco last night. And today . . .” I shook my head and closed my eyes, wishing I could somehow will it all away.
“Oh, but it’s been so much fun. The good and the bad. And think of the stories you’ll have to tell your children. Even the not-so-good things are conversational.” She offered up a wink before walking away, and I found myself standing alone, pondering her words. Children? Did the woman mention children?
At 11:30, the pickup-style limousine returned to the front of the wedding facility to pick up the bride and groom. As she brushed by me, Sharlene reached to squeeze my hand. “It was a dream-come-true wedding, Bella,” she whispered. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure.” I tried to push away the tears, but they fell anyway. It truly had been a dream come true. For both of us.
The bride and groom climbed aboard the limo to head off to a five-star hotel on the beach. Tomorrow morning they would leave for Jamaica. Or was it Cancun? I couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered. No, all that mattered right now was the fact that we’d done it! We’d actually pulled off a country-western themed wedding, and everyone seemed thrilled with the results.
After the reception hall emptied, the Rossis and the Neeleys hung around to clean up the facility. I could hardly believe the mess.
“You all really don’t have to stay,” I said as I watched Earline clear one of the tables.
“Well, shoot.” She smiled at me. “What are friends for anyway, honey? Might as well stay busy. And besides”—she gave me a wink—“it gives me a chance to get to know you better. And your family.”
I wanted to hug her right there on the spot, but resisted. Instead, I offered up a warm smile and worked alongside her, clearing tables and washing dishes.
We worked together for quite a while. I scraped food off plates. Pulled centerpieces from tables. Dismantled the chocolate fountain. Poured out the rest of the punch. Tossed dirty tablecloths in a pile in the corner. In short, I undid everything I’d spent hours doing in the first place.
As the clock struck midnight, I remembered the decorations in the gazebo. Grabbing a box, I headed outside. The chairs were now empty, but the tiny white Christmas lights we’d added to the lattice trim twinkled merrily. I stepped inside and started boxing up the decorations.
Just minutes into my work, I heard a familiar deep voice. I looked up to see D.J. standing beside me.
“Hey.” I gazed into his eyes.
“Hey back.” He took the box out of my hands and set it on the ground.
“What are you . . . ?” I gave him a curious look.
As he drew nearer, I could feel his breath against my face, warm and inviting. “We’ve both been a little busy,” he whispered in my ear. “We never had a chance to dance.”
“Oh.” For a moment I thought I might be dreaming. Underneath the stars and the twinkling gazebo lights, the two of us seemed more like characters from a fairy tale than weary wedding planner and faux deejay. Still, there was no disputing the fact that God was up to something very real here, and I certainly didn’t want to miss a thing.
“Would you do me the honor?” D.J. extended his hand, and I smiled all the way down to my toes as I slipped into his arms.
With the scent of barbecue lingering in the air and the soft shimmer of lights dancing all around us, we danced inside the gazebo to a country tune that only the two of us could hear. Then, when the music drifted off to the stars, D.J.’s lips met mine for a kiss that set off bona fide fireworks.
Thankfully, this time no one got burned.
D.J. and I spent several minutes in the gazebo in each other’s embrace, then headed back inside to join the others. We passed Patti-Lou on the way, her arms loaded with things that needed to go back to her flower shop. D.J. offered our help loading them into her van, but she shook her head. “Are you going back in the reception hall?” she asked, sounding a little breathless.
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “How come?”
“You might want to put on your boxing gloves first.” She disappeared into the darkness, and I turned to D.J., confused.
“So, do we or don’t we go in there?” he asked.
“My pop raised me to face trouble head-on, so if there’s a problem, we might as well confront it.”
“Together.” He kissed me once more, sending tingles all the way down to my toes, then we walked hand in hand into the hall.
I gasped when I saw Tony DeLuca and Bubba having it out in the corner. My ex was pushing Bubba in a taunting sort of way while muttering something about cowboys.
I sensed D.J.’s tension mounting as he observed all of this, but he managed to stay calm. Wish I could’ve said the same for Jenna. She approached Bubba and Tony with fire in her eyes.
“Back off, Tony. Leave him alone.” The mama-bear sound in her voice surprised me. This was twice in one day I’d seen Jenna rush to Bubba’s defense.
Of course, Bubba had been through a tougher-than-usual day. I gazed up at his now-blistered face and noticed the eyebrows had, for the most part, sweated themselves down into his eyelids. Not that he could help it. He’d worked hard from sunup until sundown. Still, his dribbling eyebrows reminded me of a woman’s flowing mascara after she’d had a good cry. Only higher.
But Tony . . . well, Tony was another story altogether.
I gave my handsome ex a stern once-over. What was he doing here, anyway? He hadn’t been invited to the wedding, and I didn’t recall seeing him earlier in the evening. That meant he must’ve shown up while D.J. and I were out in the gazebo. Likely Tony’s sour attitude had something to do with my budding relationship with D.J. In fact, I’d be willing to bet my boots on it. But why show up randomly, after midnight, no less? To pick a fight, perhaps?
Sure enough, as we entered the room, Tony shifted his gaze to D.J., and his fists clenched. Goodness, I’d never seen my ex in such a state. There might just be a shoot-out at the O. K. Corral if someone didn’t intervene.
Thankfully, my father stepped up to the plate. “There’s nothing to get all worked up about, Tony. Take a step back and cool down before I take that punch bowl over there and dunk your head in it.”
Tony stepped back, but I could see a vein in his neck bulging.
D.J. glanced my way, then looked back at Tony, likely trying to figure out what, if anything, to do.
“What are you looking at, cowboy?” Tony demanded, turning to D.J.
Yikes.
Where were my big brothers when I needed them? They would’ve handled this with ease, but it appeared they’d already left for the night.
D.J. gave Tony an odd look. “Excuse me?”
Tony squared his jaw, then drew nearer to my hunk-of-a-cowboy, muttering, “You think you’re quite the man, stealing my girl away from me.”
“Stealing your girl away from you?” D.J. crossed his arms at his chest and stared Tony down. “If she wanted to be with you, she would be with you.”
Raising my arms, I began to rant. “We broke up months ago, Tony. It’s over. Caput. In fact, it was over long before that, but I just didn’t have the courage to tell you.” Should I add that I hadn’t shed a tear? That the only reason I’d hung on for so long was to make my mama happy? That I’d never felt as safe in his arms as I now felt in D.J.’s? That his kisses didn’t set off fireworks and his eyes didn’t twist my stomach into knots?
Nope.
“So this is what you want?” Tony thumped D.J. on the chest. “This hick? This backwoods hillbilly? You think he’s going to take care of you the way I could?”
D.J. flinched, and for a moment I thought he might take Tony out right then and there. I had no doubt he could do it, I just didn’t care to see my ex’s blood smeared on the reception hall floor. Not right after we’d mopped it, anyway.
From off in the distance, I saw Earline’s eyes widen. I half expected her to come shooting across the room and give Tony a piece of her mind, but she kept quiet. Miraculously, so did D.J., though I felt sure it must’ve taken every ounce of strength in him not to react.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patti-Lou return for another load of floral supplies. She observed the goings-on between the guys and scurried out almost as quickly as she came. I didn’t blame her. If I could’ve run from the place, I would have.
Instead, I gathered up my courage and decided it was my turn at bat. I spoke to Tony with forced bravado. “For your information, D.J. has more refinement in his little finger than you do in your whole body.” A sudden burst of anger spurred me on. “In fact, he’s every bit the man I’m looking for. No offense, Tony, but there’s just no comparison.”
So there.
I wanted to stick out my tongue, but manners prevented it. Well, manners and my mama, who watched all of this with a look of horror on her face. For once I was glad I couldn’t read her thoughts.
I glanced at Tony. His jaw tightened as he muttered,
“Moglie e buoi dei paesi tuoi.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” D.J. asked, crossing his arms.
“Figure it out.” Tony’s eyes flashed with an odd mixture of pain and anger.
D.J. turned to look at me, likely hoping I’d offer the interpretation. But how could I? Tony’s words, “Marry a woman from your own neighborhood,” wouldn’t make things any better. No, the only thing that would improve the situation now would be a strike of lightning from heaven, landing squarely between my ex and D.J. That would probably be enough to send Tony running. Maybe. I’d never seen him in this state before.
Bubba mumbled something about Tony being lower than a snake’s belly, and Earline smacked him with the back of her hand—Bubba, not Tony. Seemed she still wanted her boys to mind their manners, even under the direst of circumstances.
Tony, on the other hand, lost his manners the minute he heard the words slip out of Bubba’s mouth. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I watched something in motion-picture-quality slow motion. Tony turned and lunged at Bubba, fists clenched. In the distance, I heard Jenna call out, and I thought I recognized Aunt Rosa’s voice as she cried out for three or four major saints.
None of those things stopped Tony, now a raging bull. Though Bubba stood nearly a foot taller than him, Tony’s balled-up fist met Bubba’s right eye with a solid punch. The smack echoed across the now-empty wooden floor of the reception hall. Jenna let out a shriek, then went on the attack. I flew into action, pulling her off Tony.
He stepped back, a look of pride on his face as he saw the marks he’d left behind on Bubba’s already scorched face. “Now what are you going to do?” he taunted.
The words “turn the other cheek” flitted through my mind. If Bubba Neeley followed the biblical rule—which was more than likely, especially with his mama present—Tony would continue to pummel him until someone cried for mercy. Not that my five-foot-seven ex could really do much damage to Bubba. Knowing Tony, however, it wouldn’t stop him from trying.
Oddly enough, Sophia intervened. She rushed to Tony’s side, whispered something in his ear, and stepped back. For the first time, I noticed tears in her eyes, and it stopped me cold.
Conspiring with the enemy, Sophia? We’re going to have words later.
In spite of whatever she’d said, Tony didn’t back down. He squared his shoulders and tipped his head back to look up into Bubba’s eyes. “Now what are you going to do . . . cowboy?” There was something about the way he said
cowboy
that jarred me.
Cow
-boy. Like Bubba was more cow than boy.
