It Had To Be You (28 page)

That night I slept in Sophia’s room for the first time. I tried to be a good sport about it—on many different levels and in many different ways. Her double bed was a lot harder than mine. I didn’t mind that part so much. What really got to me was fitting the dog in between us and listening to Sophia complain about it. Precious didn’t take kindly to this new setup either, even going so far as to growl at my sister on at least one occasion. Okay, two occasions. She was a creature of habit. So was I, actually. We finally settled into semi-reasonable positions—Precious and I both shoved to one side—when my eyelids grew heavy.

I was almost asleep when Sophia nudged me. “Bella, you awake?”

“Hmm?” I rolled over and looked at her through squinted eyes, trying to make out her face in the darkness. “W-what?”

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about my wedding and I’m ready to start making plans.”

Oh, honey … please not now!

“Tony and I talked today,” she said. “He doesn’t like the beach idea. You know him, Bella. He’s so … high-class. He wants all the bells and whistles. Something people will talk about for years to come.”

“Mm-hmm.” I closed my eyes, hoping she would take the hint. No such luck.

“Anyway, he’s thinking we should get married at the church. I like that idea. Then we want to do a huge reception at the wedding facility. Nothing quirky or odd. No themes. Just really, really elegant.”

Kind of like my wedding, you mean?

“So, when were you thinking?” I did my best to keep my voice steady but could hear the nervous vibrato.

“We talked about that part a lot,” she said. “And we’ve decided we can’t wait till summer. We’re hoping to pull this off by early March.”

“Early March?” My eyes popped open, and I sat straight up in bed. Was she kidding? No, from the look of confidence in her expression, she honestly believed it possible.

“I know you, Bella,” she said. “You’re so fast. And thorough. You can pull off a great wedding in just a few weeks. I watched you do it with that Boot-Scootin’ wedding this summer. And the medieval one too. You’re a pro. So I’m counting on you.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Tony says you’re the best in the business and we’re blessed to have you. I told him he’s right. Who else gets the very best?” She sighed, and I tried to think of something to say in response. Instead, I only managed a yawn. Sophia finally took the hint. “You’re sleepy. We can talk more about this tomorrow. Sweet dreams, big sister.”

“Sweet dreams, little sister.”

I rolled back over, thinking through what she’d said. In spite of her glowing comments, I still didn’t think I could pull off a high-end wedding less than a month after my own. However, this wasn’t the right time to tell her so. I would save that for tomorrow. Or the next day. Surely all of this would make more sense after I’d slept on it.

With Precious curled up at my legs, I found myself hovering at the edge of the bed, truly uncomfortable—on many levels. I managed to stay put, finally dozing off.

Perhaps Sophia’s words of encouragement stuck with me through the night. I awoke the next morning, convinced I could handle the ever-growing influx of weddings as long as I kept myself on a practical schedule. Anxious to implement a plan, I dressed and headed next door, going straight to my office. Once there, I turned on my computer and faced it with a brave smile, offering up a quick prayer to the Lord for his intervention and guidance. If I ever needed his help, it was now.

“You can do this, Bella,” I chided myself. “People do it every day.”

By 10:00 I had run through the checklist for my wedding and had made a couple of corresponding calls. At 11:00 I called for Sophia to join me, and we put together a plan of action for her big day. With Tony now running the show on that one, I had my work cut out for me. Only the best for my former boyfriend and his fiancée.

By the time Sophia left my office, I felt strong. Invincible. Capable of just about anything. Within reason, of course.

At 12:00 straight up, D.J. called. His words, “Hey, you, I’m next door,” caught me off guard until I remembered that construction—or rather, destruction—was set to begin today. I rose and looked out of the window. Sure enough, his Dodge 4x4 sat in the driveway of my house, along with several other work vehicles.

“Can you come over for a few minutes and take a look at our plans?” he asked. “I think you’ll be impressed.”

Feeling confident about my workload, I agreed. “Sure. Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

After tidying up a couple of loose ends—putting away the punch bowl and starting a load of tablecloths in the commercial washer—I walked through the front door of the house, overwhelmed by people and stuff. I’d never heard so much noise in all of my life. Saws. Hammers. And the people! Men trudged up and down the stairs at will, carrying the dust of their labors with them. Man. Looked like these guys didn’t waste any time. When they got to work, they got to work.

D.J. was in the thick of it. So was Bubba, who shuffled back and forth between the various workers and the makeshift office. He and D.J. had transformed Armando’s room into a hub of sorts and gave their instructions from there.

As I made my way through the crowd toward D.J., an unusual pain gripped my upper abdomen, and I leaned forward, trying to catch my breath.

“You okay, Bella?” Mama said, passing by. “You don’t look like you feel well.”

“I … I guess I’m okay.” Straightening up, I rubbed my stomach. “That was the weirdest sensation. For a minute I couldn’t catch my breath.”

“Better keep an eye on that.” She gave me a pensive look, then trudged up the stairs behind a couple of guys wearing tool belts.

I entered Armando’s room to spend a few minutes with D.J. Unfortunately, I caught him in the middle of a conversation with a guy wearing a very large tool belt and a construction hat. I stood at a distance, marveling at how professional D.J. sounded.

“Finish taking down those two walls,” he said, pointing at the plans. “And clear the debris. Then we’ll talk plumbing. Just be careful. Make sure the main is turned off so we don’t have any floods.”

“Floods, eh?” I said after the construction worker left. “Should I build an ark?”

“Nah. We’ve got this under control.” He pulled me into his arms. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you about—”

He never had an opportunity to finish his sentence because we were interrupted by my father, who came in the room wearing a pair of jeans, an undershirt, and an impressive tool belt. Now, I’d known my father all my life, obviously, but had never seen him lift a tool. Well, other than, say, a screwdriver or a pair of pliers. Did he really think he would be helping these guys?

“Pop?” I gave him an inquisitive look. “What are you doing?”

“I figured, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!” He lifted the hanger in his hand. “I always did like tearing things down, and this is the perfect opportunity.” His gaze narrowed. “The walls are coming down, Bella Bambina! The walls are coming down.”

An older man wearing overalls came in the room and distracted D.J. The two dove into a conversation about plumbing, and I stood in the background, not wanting to interrupt. Still, I wondered what had D.J. so excited. I could tell from the look on his face he had something exciting to tell me.

Finally, the moment arrived. He looked my way with that crooked grin of his, the one I loved so much. “Bella, I bought the house.”

“W-what?”

“The house I told you about last week at the beach. The one just a few blocks from here. I closed on it this morning.”

“But …” I shook my head. “How did you go to closing without me? I’m not going to be on the mortgage.”

“There’s no mortgage.” He shrugged. “I’m telling you, Bella, I got the house for a song. I’d been saving up for years to buy my own place, so the money was there, with enough left over for the renovations.”

“Wow.”

He grinned. “There’s even a little left over for that honeymoon I’m going to take you on.”

“The one to Cancun?” I asked. D.J. kept his poker face, so I tried again. “Cozumel? Grand Cayman?”

He laughed. “You can try all day, but I’m not breathing a word about the honeymoon. It’s going to be a surprise. So is the house. So no more questions, all right? I really want all of this to be an adventure for both of us.”

“An adventure. Hmm. Okay.” I pondered his words as I followed him into the space that had been my bedroom. My heart gravitated to my throat when I saw that the wall separating my old space from Rosa’s was already in the process of coming down. Memories washed over me, and I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from crying. Well, that, and to keep the dust out of my eyes.

“If you’re going to be up here, wear this.” D.J. handed me a face mask, which I put on. After swallowing a mouthful of sawdust, anyway. I looked around the space, trying to envision it decked out with Rosa and Laz’s new furniture. The furniture Mama planned to shop for tomorrow as a surprise for the honeymooners. Still, I couldn’t imagine anything new or different in this space. No, I could only envision what had always been, not what could be. And the thought of change brought a substantial lump to my throat.

After a few minutes, one of the workers approached with several questions for D.J. I was happy for the excuse to slip downstairs once again, where life—and my home—were normal. Unchanged. I found Pop in his office, having a chat with Guido.

“Hey.” I walked in and took a seat in the wingback chair.

“Well, hi, Bella. Guido and I were just talking.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He’s telling me all about how happy he is to be staying in Texas, and I was explaining that we’re equally as happy to have Sal here.”

“I am glad about that.” A smile followed as I thought about Uncle Sallie becoming a Texan. Pretty soon we’d have him wearing cowboy boots and singing sappy country tunes. Maybe, anyway. At any rate, I could hardly believe he’d decided to stay on in Galveston.

“Do you ever think about what Sal was like … before?” I asked my father.

“Oh, sure.” Pop nodded. “I remember him from the eighties back in Atlantic City.”

“Do you really think he was a mob boss?” I asked. “Or was that just some story Laz made up?”

Pop shook his head. “You know, Bella, I’m not sure. I do think he had some unsavory companions. Gordy’s story about doing time in the penitentiary confirms that, I suppose. We’ll just leave it at that. But who they were—or what they were—I never really knew for sure.”

I paused, deep in thought. “I guess what I’m getting at,” I said finally, “is this—I’m wondering if anyone in New Jersey is looking for Sal.”

“You mean, like the police?” Pop asked.

“Well, yeah. Or worse. The bad guys.”

My father shrugged. “That’s something to pray about. But Bella, I honestly think Sal is old enough now that his past is truly behind him. And if the police were looking for Sal, chances are they would’ve found him years ago. He was never difficult to find. I think it’s much more likely he was on the outer fringes.” He paused, then gave me a winsome smile. “I’m sure God knows what he’s doing. I have to believe he brought Sal here.”

“Same here.” I smiled. “And I know Laz is going to be thrilled to hear that his best friend is staying.”

The words
best friend
triggered something in me. In the chaos of the morning, I’d forgotten to call Jenna. We needed to lock in a date for her Hawaiian-themed wedding. I trudged back over to Club Wed, entered my office once more, and made the call. Jenna settled on a date in July, which brought some comfort, since July was awhile away.

After talking to Jenna, I telephoned Marcella to talk flowers— not just for my own event, but Sophia’s and Jenna’s too. Then I called Lilly to ask for her wedding colors. She’d settled on pink, black, and white. I asked her opinion on centerpieces, then shifted gears, listening as she talked about her upcoming honeymoon to Key West.

Thinking of honeymoons made me wonder what D.J. had up his sleeve. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he must be planning to take me to Grand Cayman. He’d hinted at beautiful indigo waters, right? And swimming. The Cayman Islands were known for their indigo waters. That had to be it.

I signed on to the Internet, lost in my daydreams about all things honeymoon. A phone call startled me back to reality. Glancing at the phone, I realized the afternoon had slipped over to evening. Mama was calling to let me know that she and Pop had decided to take the family out to dinner.

An hour later, the whole family—plus Sal—gathered around a large table at the Prime Cut, a great steakhouse on the seawall, enjoying lively conversation with Sal about his future adventures on Galveston Isle. I couldn’t remember the last time our family had gathered around any table other than the one in our dining room or one of the many at Parma John’s.

In the middle of the meal, Sal’s cell phone rang, and his cheeks flamed red as he looked at the number. “Excuse me, folks,” he said. “I need to take this.” He offered a quick “hello” as he rose. The tone of his voice changed immediately, becoming almost flirtatious. Someone had his full attention, no doubt about that.

“Who do you think that is?” I asked, turning to Mama.

“If I had to guess … Bonnie Sue.”

“Really?” I said. “Why would she call him? Twila and Jolene would have a fit if they knew.”

We got the answer to that question moments later when Sal returned. He took his seat, pressing the phone back into his pocket. We all stared at him in silence until he finally fessed up.

“That was, um … well, that was Bonnie Sue.”

“Oh?” Pop’s eyebrows shot straight up.

“Yes, she was calling with some news. Something she thought you all would want to know. She said she tried to call your phone, Imelda, but it went straight to voice mail.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mama said, reaching for her phone. “I turned it off earlier and forgot to turn it back on.”

“She tried you too, Bella, but you didn’t answer.”