Chapter 18 - The Night Before the Wedding
Delia refused a ballroom.
Anton suggested a courtyard.
Delia refused twelve hundred guests.
Anton suggested four hundred.
Delia stared.
He reduced it to one hundred.
They settled at eighty-three.
Frank demanded catering rights.
Celeste demanded no involvement whatsoever unless directly asked.
“Growth,” Delia told her.
“Therapy,” Celeste corrected.
The wedding would take place behind Bayou Grace.
The diner had a large courtyard nobody used except for storage.
Over several months Frank, Anton, Delia and half the neighborhood transformed it.
String lights.
White flowers.
Wooden tables.
No gold throne chairs.
No ridiculous flower walls.
No magazine exclusives.
No press.
The triplets would walk with Delia.
At least that was the plan.
Reality suggested they might run in opposite directions.
Two nights before the wedding, Delia sat alone inside Bayou Grace.
The diner was closed.
She wore jeans.
No makeup.
Her engagement ring caught the neon light.
Anton entered.
“You're supposed to be home.”
“So are you.”
“I was looking for you.”
“You found me.”
He sat.
“Nervous?”
“Yes.”
“About marrying me?”
“Partly.”
Anton looked offended.
She laughed.
“Relax.”
“What is the other part?”
Delia looked around the diner.
“This all started here.”
“Technically it started in a grief workshop.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
“I keep thinking about that first day.”
Anton smiled.
“You thought Donovan interrogated people for cardio.”
“He probably does.”
“Only recreationally.”
“Terrible joke.”
“I've improved.”
“Debatable.”
Her smile faded.
“The babies said Mama.”
Anton nodded.
“I thought my life had just become a nightmare.”
“So did I.”
Delia laughed.
“You looked terrifying.”
“I was terrified.”
She looked at him.
“You were?”
“My children had just spoken their first word to a stranger.”
“Fair.”
“I thought someone had hidden something from me.”
“They had.”
“Yes.”
Delia leaned into him.
“I worried loving you meant the story had already been written.”
Anton kissed her hair.
“It wasn't.”
“Isn't.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“If I change my mind tomorrow—”
“I will cancel everything.”
She blinked.
“You didn't even let me finish.”
“I know the question.”
“No argument?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to change my mind?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
“But you can.”
Delia smiled.
That was why she wouldn't.
The following evening they held a small rehearsal.
It was chaos.
Matteo refused shoes.
Nico ate one flower petal.
Lucia announced she was “the bride.”
Delia corrected her.
Lucia disagreed.
Frank nearly burned the practice dinner.
Celeste cried during instructions.
Donovan somehow became responsible for carrying spare diapers.
“I oversee corporate security,” he muttered.
Delia handed him wipes.
“Congratulations on your promotion.”
For the first time, everyone felt like family.
Not the old Marchetti definition.
No forced loyalty.
No control.
People who stayed because they chose to.
After rehearsal Delia returned home alone.
Anton would stay at his house.
Old-fashioned idea.
Frank's suggestion.
Delia opened her closet.
Samuel's yellow blanket remained on the shelf.
She took it down.
Sat on the bed.
“Hi, baby.”
Her voice shook.
She hadn't spoken to him like this before.
“I don't know if mothers are allowed to move on.”
Tears came.
“People say they are.”
She held the blanket.
“But sometimes happiness feels like proof that I survived you.”
Delia closed her eyes.
“Maybe that's okay.”
Her tears fell onto the fabric.
“I wish you were here.”
She smiled.
“You would be almost two.”
The image no longer destroyed her.
A little boy running.
Laughing.
Maybe Caleb's eyes.
Maybe Delia's curls.
Samuel belonged to imagination.
And love.
Not guilt.
“I met three babies after you.”
She laughed softly.
“They are very loud now.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I thought loving them would mean leaving you behind.”
Her voice cracked.
“It didn't.”
She folded the blanket carefully.
“Thank you for teaching me how much room a heart can make.”
Delia placed it back.
Then went to sleep.
Across town Anton sat in Isabella's study.
Her wedding photograph rested beside him.
“I am getting married tomorrow.”
He felt ridiculous speaking aloud.
Then remembered Delia talking to Samuel.
Maybe ridiculous was allowed.
“I still love you.”
No shame.
No contradiction.
“I think I always will.”
He looked at Isabella's laughing face.
“But I love Delia differently.”
Anton smiled.
“You were right about that.”
He picked up the diary page.
Whoever Anton eventually trusts, I hope that person reminds him he is allowed to be human before he is a Marchetti.
“She does.”
Anton laughed softly.
“Constantly.”
He put the photograph back.
“Goodnight, Izzy.”
Then left the room.
Not closing the door behind him.
Wedding morning arrived bright and warm.
Bayou Grace filled with flowers.
Delia wore a simple ivory gown.
It hugged her body rather than trying to hide it.
When she looked in the mirror, she did not wonder whether strangers would call her too big.
She did not wonder whether she looked like the kind of woman Anton Marchetti was supposed to marry.
She looked like herself.
Frank appeared behind her.
“You look okay.”
Delia turned.
“Okay?”
He sniffed.
“Fine. Great.”
“You're crying.”
“Kitchen fumes.”
“There is no kitchen in here.”
“Aggressive carpet.”
Delia laughed.
“You stole that from me.”
“Yes.”
Celeste entered.
She stopped.
Her eyes filled.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Celeste held out something.
A small blue pin.
“This belonged to Isabella.”
Delia hesitated.
“No.”
Celeste immediately nodded.
“I understand.”
Delia touched her arm.
“Not because I don't appreciate it.”
“I know.”
“I need today to belong to us.”
Celeste smiled.
“She would understand.”
Delia believed that.
Outside, guests gathered.
Anton waited beneath the oak tree.
No intimidating business figure.
No feared Marchetti.
Just Anton.
Nervous.
Donovan stood beside him.
“You're sweating.”
“Go away.”
“You asked me to stand here.”
“I regret it.”
Music began.
Everyone turned.
Lucia appeared first.
She had abandoned her flowers and was carrying a stuffed rabbit.
Matteo followed.
One shoe missing.
Nico walked behind them holding Frank's hand.
Anton laughed.
Then Delia stepped into the courtyard.
Anton stopped breathing.
She walked slowly.
Not toward rescue.
Not toward wealth.
Not toward a family that needed a substitute mother.
Toward a man she loved.
When she reached him, Anton whispered:
“You're beautiful.”
Delia whispered back:
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
The ceremony began.
But just before they reached the vows, Lucia suddenly shouted:
“WAIT!”
Eighty-three guests froze.
Delia looked down.
Lucia ran toward Frank.
Then returned carrying a folded sheet of paper.
“What is that?”
Lucia grinned.
“Secret.”
Matteo and Nico crowded beside her.
Apparently the triplets had planned something with Erin.
Anton looked at Delia.
Delia looked terrified.
“Should we stop them?”
“Too late.”
Lucia handed the page to Erin.
Erin smiled through tears.
“They asked me to help them write something.”
The children stood together.
The same three babies who once filled Bayou Grace with screams.
The same three babies who had gone months without speaking.
Now they were determined to interrupt a wedding.
Erin crouched beside them.
“Ready?”
All three nodded.
May you like
And together, they began the words that would finally close the circle that started with a single whispered Mama.
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