The Suite Life (16 page)

“What's with the long face? I told you I was dropping girlfriends left and right, and she's the last,” he said, soothing me again. “Last night just came out of left field, Sam. If I'd had any idea I'd propose to you down here I would have dumped her before I left.” It was like something came over me.

I felt a surge of anger.
What else is he going to reveal before we leave this island? And why didn't he tell me about Linda last night?
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that as brutal as Alec's honesty could be sometimes, he was a straight shooter. I'd asked for complete honesty and I had to give him credit for coming clean. We had only known each other for two months; my life had taken as much of a 180-degree turn as his had. I decided to let it go—I was the one marrying Alec DeMarco after all, not “Linda”—and I'll admit, the fact that he had his Victor dispatch with the relationship with her made me feel almost instantly better. He had chosen me.

“You have Victor doing your dirty work?”

Alec chuckled. “Teammate and friend, and as far as I'm concerned you can't be one without the other,” he said, dead serious. “Now get over here and jump in my lap so I can kiss my fiancée. If we didn't have a flight to catch, I would have thrown you back on the bed for round two.” Alec gave me a huge smile as he spread his arms wide, and my face lit up. I couldn't resist this man. I pulled myself out of my chair, ambled over, and wrapped my arms around the neck I'd wanted to strangle a moment earlier. Alec did what he wanted to do. And I loved that about him.

I laughed to myself then, crazy for my crazy guy, and hugged him tight.

“I really wish your mother were alive,” Alec said, brushing a strand of hair off my face. “I would have loved her.”

“Maybe,” I mused, “but I doubt it. She was crazy. It wasn't all bad, but she wasn't good crazy like you are. It was never a good idea for me to have Mom around a boyfriend, and you wouldn't have been an exception.”

“Fiancé,” Alec corrected. “A whole 'nother ball game.”

Like everything that stands in your way.
“I must admit it would have been interesting to see you two go at each other,” I said, imagining the scene in my mind.

“Trust me, it woulda been a first-round KO.”

“I don't know, Alec. She was a pretty good fighter herself.”

I looked over his shoulder at the beach below, and for some reason was reminded of a picnic I'd gone on with Tony and my mother and his aunt on Gerritsen Beach in Brooklyn. His aunt had been jealous of the way I looked in the skimpy bikini I'd worn just for Tony and she got him all riled up about how indecent it was. Mind you, this was a woman who had stolen her daughter's boyfriend. She kept ranting and raving to the point where Tony came at me, put his hands on my shoulders, and started shaking me hard back and forth, cursing and muttering and asking me over and over again, “Why the hell are you
wearing that bathing suit?” Mom came at him with a kitchen knife, and she would have stuck him if he hadn't taken his hands off me.

Turning back to Alec I had no doubt that he'd come to my rescue on a beach or anywhere else.

“Well,” he said, “we'll never know, will we? So let's forget about it. I'm taking you to that fancy jewelry store in town.”

“I don't need anything, Alec,” I said softly. “Really. Why don't we just take it easy until it's time for our flight?”

“No fiancée of mine is showing up back home without a blinding rock on her ring finger, and that's that,” the lion commanded. “You won't be coming back to our room empty-handed this time.”

I looked at the beach again.

“Thinking about what you want?” he asked, sliding on his shoes, grinning with pride.

“You always make me feel like a princess, Alec. You make me so happy; I don't need a fancy ring to remind me how much I love you.” I sat in his lap and kissed him gently.

“Nah, you need a fancy ring, Mrs. DeMarco.” He kissed my nose and popped up, determined to get that ring on my finger before we made it to Customs.
I do have something to declare.

Alec asked me to choose any stone I wanted. I was overwhelmed by the selection of gems, each more gorgeous than the last. Finally, with Alec's help, I settled on the perfect stone. But the jeweler balked at setting it right away. No problem, Alec just slipped five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills into his hand and told him there'd be five more to match if the ring was ready when we got back from lunch.

Later that afternoon, as Alec and I packed the last of our things before heading to the airport, my new flawless diamond sparkled in the tropical sun filtering in from the terrace, almost as much as my eyes did.

“I'll never forget the way you look right now,” Alec said, taking a swig of the complimentary champagne sent up by the concierge.

“And I'll never forget these past few days, Alec.” I sighed, unable to take my eyes off the rock on my finger. “Especially last night.”

“I'm planning to crowd your memory with visits to every corner of the globe.”

The world is his oyster, and I'm his pearl.

“Gianna and Mom both have four-carat diamonds,” Alec said between bites. “We should have gotten you a five-carat stone. I should have never listened to them when they told me a five-carat would just be too big for your tiny hands.”

Really, Elizabeth Taylor had small hands, too. Betcha Mike Todd never listened to his mother.

“Three is outrageous enough,” I said. “I would have been happy with a chip!”

“I wouldn't have been.” He growled playfully, as he scooped me into his arms while reaching for a second scone.

I had to pinch myself every couple of minutes on the flight home to make sure I wasn't in a dream. As we landed at JFK Airport, however, my elation turned to anxiety. We were about to be greeted at the gate by Alec's parents and sister. Any lingering fear dissipated, however, as I saw Gianna holding up a bunch of pink balloons and Giovanni waving a bouquet of roses.

There were hugs and kisses and smiles all around as I lost myself in the bosom of my new family.

“Alec's proposal was bit of a shock to us all, Samantha,” Filomena said, grabbing my hand, “but a distinct pleasure, nonetheless.”

“Mom put together a little reception for you two on Saturday,” Gianna gushed, “at our house in Brooklyn.”

“If that meets with your approval, of course,” Filomena added.

“I'll look forward to it,” I said, a tinge of worry reemerging.

There aren't many single-family homes on large plots in Brooklyn. Janice Caputo, my best friend when I was growing up, had lived in one of those free-standing homes, and I'd seen a couple of others that were owned by mobsters like Tino Priganti, but none of them came close to the one Alec had lived in.

The stately brick home was set atop a gentle rise overlooking Fort Hamilton and the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. A lush green lawn was accented with a few apple and cherry trees, which were dwarfed by the giant oaks that stood guard on each side of the house. The property was surrounded by a low stone wall interrupted by the wrought-iron gate at the entrance to a brick driveway.

Alec steered the Rover up the driveway and I caught a glimpse of a Saint Joseph grotto twenty feet in front of the white portico.

“Home, sweet home,” Alec said as he killed the engine.

I smiled, checking myself in the visor mirror.

“Mere bag of shells compared to where we're headed, Sam,” he added. “Ready to go in?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” I replied, one eye on the grotto.

Alec's parents greeted us in the marble foyer and escorted us to the solarium in the rear of the house, where an intimate group, including his brother and sister and their spouses, as well as two couples I didn't recognize, rose as one, clapping and offering congratulations.

“This is Angelo and Connie, my godparents,” Alec said, introducing me to a traditional-looking Italian couple. “And these two lovely people,” he added, pointing to the other couple, “are Sid and Betsy, my parents' best friends.”

“I've heard so much about you,” Betsy said, taking my hand in hers.

Sid touched my shoulder gently. “Alec is certainly blessed to have you in his life,” he said.

“That's for sure,” Connie said lightly. “He needs all the religious influence he can get.”

“You holy rollers gonna preach to me all day?” Alec erupted in mock indignation.

“God forbid,” Franco chimed in.

“There's room for Him here, as always,” Giovanni said as he wrapped an arm around his wife, “but Fil wants to talk about the wedding first.”

“Have you two discussed a date, Sam?” Filomena asked.

“November second,” I replied.

“All Souls' Day,” Alec said. “As if you people didn't know that.”

“Her influence seems to be working quite well,” Connie said, beaming.

“A Saturday this year,” Filomena said. “Perfect.”

“So let's toast the perfect couple.” Giovanni popped a bottle of prosecco as Filomena distributed glasses.

“Let's sit down, shall we?” Filomena said after the toast. “We can talk about the details while we eat.”

“Great,” Alec said. “I'm starved.”

“What else is new?” Gianna countered, and everyone laughed.

“If it's all right with you, Samantha,” Giovanni said as everyone settled into their seats, “I'll make arrangements for the ceremony at Our Lady of Victory.”

“That would be lovely, Mr. De . . . Giovanni,” I said.

Giovanni smiled warmly. “I'd love it if you called me Dad from now on.”
I always wanted a real father. I missed out, but this may work out after all.

“Thanks . . . Dad.” I smiled as I tested the unfamiliar word,
thrilled that it felt so natural to say it to Giovanni. “I'd like to have a priest I know from Brooklyn do the officiating. Would that be a problem?”

“Not at all,” Giovanni said.

“Not if they want the DeMarco contributions to keep coming,” Franco cracked.

“Enough of that.” Filomena silenced him. “We've got important matters to discuss right now, starting with pre-Cana.”

“What's that?” Alec asked, sounding slightly suspicious. He loved that I embraced my Catholicism but I got the sense that he wasn't particularly interested in participating in the rituals of the church.
One step at a time, Sam
 . . .
this is all happening fast enough,
I reminded myself. Besides, I didn't exactly have a perfect attendance record at Mass, either, except my weekly novena thirty-minute Masses with Priti.

“Before you commit to the sacrament of marriage, you have to take pre-Cana classes at the church. You didn't go the last time around and look where it got you,” Giovanni chided Alec.

I'd almost completely forgotten about her
 . . .

“Sam, you've made all your sacraments, haven't you?” Giovanni turned to ask me.

The sacraments . . . I'd forgotten: “You know what? As Catholic as I am in spirit and belief, I've never made any of my sacraments. I wasn't baptized, haven't received Holy Communion, nor was I confirmed. But I am beyond thrilled to receive them all before getting married—it's something I've always wanted to do, but never had a reason until now.”
Maybe I'll ask Alec's parents to be my godparents.

Giovanni, dear that he was, squeezed my shoulder and gave me a warm smile that spoke volumes. “If it's all right with you, Sam, I'll pull some strings and get you into a crash course at Our Lady of Victory. They're . . .” Giovanni's voice trailed off for
a moment. “. . . willing to overlook Alec's previous marriage and allow him to remarry in the church.”

The thought of not being able to marry in a church because of Alec's divorce hadn't even occurred to me.
It's a good thing I'm signing up for classes
.
I really do have a lot of catching up to do on my religion.
My mom would have been so disappointed if I couldn't be married in a church even if she wasn't there to see me walk down the aisle. I couldn't have borne it—even after her death. “Thank you . . . Dad,” I said again, squeezing his hand in acknowledgment of his thoughtfulness.

He winked at me, then turned to Alec with a warning: “I'm afraid this time there's no talking your way out of pre-Cana, Alec—six classes. Make time.”

I expected more grumbling, but Alec scooped me up and said, “For this woman, I would do anything! Anything!” He kissed me full on the mouth and reached for the prosecco.

“So, now that that's out of the way,” Filomena said, “I've got some wonderful rooftop places in mind for the reception, Samantha.”

Alec paused in the middle of a sip of prosecco. “We're saving the big reception for Bermuda, Mom,” he said, to which everyone reacted with stunned silence. “Sam and I are thinking about having a small ceremony on the second at Our Lady of Victory,” he continued, turning toward his father, “in deference to you, Dad. A gathering for just the immediate family and close friends will follow.” Alec turned toward me then and broke out his trademark grin. “But we're planning an island blowout the next weekend for the reception.”