The Year of Luminous Love (38 page)

Her mother sighed. “It will take both of us to agree to the sale.”

“It’s not what Olivia wanted. She worked hard to keep the land producing.”

“She’s dead, Ciana. We’re in charge now.”

The words sounded cold and final. And they stung. “I … I need to think.”

“Well, think about the money and being able to do anything you want for the rest of your life.”

“How do I look?” Arie sat in the bridal prep staging room of the old church with Eden fussing over her hair.

“Beautiful,” Ciana said.

“Stop wiggling,” Eden said through a mouthful of hairpins. She reached for the can of hair spray in Ciana’s hand and squirted a slipping curl into place.

Around them, girls giggled and talked, all of them Abbie’s friends and a few of Arie and Eric’s cousins. Abbie was in a separate room being photographed.

“You two look gorgeous,” Arie grumbled. “I’m so skinny, my chest looks concave.”

“No way,” Ciana said, although it was a halfhearted denial. Arie’s lovely dark blue velvet dress was long sleeved and covered her thin shoulders, but the front of the dress hung loosely.

“I told you to buy a padded bra,” Eden mumbled.

“Padded with basketballs wouldn’t help,” Arie wailed. “The two of you look like models.”

Eden wore a short black dress with sequins and Ciana had chosen a dress the color of champagne. “We’re just bystanders,” Ciana said. “Abbie is the main attraction, so that’s who everyone will be watching.”

“Wish I were sitting with you all,” Arie said, looking scared and pale.

“You have a date,” Eden reminded her. “We’re manless.”

“A date I asked. Jon’s only here because I dragged him.”

Ciana shook her head. “All the men are here because their wives or girlfriends dragged them.”

“And because of the free food,” Eden inserted.

The door from the next room opened and Abbie glided in, her mother quickly following and poufing the gown’s train. The bride was a vision in white lace. All the girls clapped when they saw her.

“There,” Eden said, putting a final misting of spray on Arie’s hair.

Arie coughed, fanned away the excess spray in the air, and walked over to Abbie. “Eric’s so lucky to be marrying you.”

Abbie leaned forward and gave Arie air kisses on both
cheeks. “He told me I reminded him of you and your great personality. That’s why he dated me in the first place. I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister-in-law.”

The wedding planner stepped inside. “Ready, ladies? The groomsmen are all lined up.”

The bridesmaids flurried together in clouds of perfume and nervous twitters, lining up like birds on a wire. Ciana and Eden slipped out the door, down the hall, and into a pew of the candlelit church.

The sanctuary reminded Ciana of the many elaborate churches Arie had dragged them through in Italy. Abundant white garlands of fragrant flowers embraced the altar. Music played softly. From her place in the back, she saw Jon’s head and shoulders in the second row on the groom’s side of the church. He was there for Arie. She closed her eyes. Arie needed him. He would take care of her and make her happy once she was well.

The organist turned up the volume and struck the beginning chords of the wedding march. Everyone seated in the pews stood. The bridesmaids filed down the aisle, each with a young man at her side. Arie came, her smile trembling, but at the front, she turned, stared straight at Jon, and reinforced her smile with the sight of him. Finally Abbie entered on her father’s arm. Ciana forced back tears for the beauty of the moment and for the loss of the man who could not be hers.

The party had been in full swing for three hours in the church’s reception hall as the clock inched ever closer to midnight. Abbie had put on cowboy boots and, holding up the hem of her bridal gown, danced with Eric to every tune the band played. Eden was tucked somewhere out in the dancing melee, while at their table, Ciana took a breather from the crowded dance floor. Arie sat alone at the wedding party table in self-imposed isolation, watching, wishing she had the energy to join the dancers. Jon had asked, but she’d refused.

As the crowd dispersed and the band started a slow tune, Jon walked Eden to her chair, where she flopped and pushed her hair off her forehead. “I’m pooped!”

Jon held out his hand to Ciana. “Dance with me.”

“I … I’m resting.”

Eden rattled Ciana’s chair, almost dumping her onto the floor. “
Dance
with the man.”

Eden ignored the murderous look Ciana gave her.

On the dance floor, Jon pulled Ciana close, causing the old
familiar uptick in her heartbeat. She refused to move her feet. “You know how to dance with me, Ciana.”

She did. “That’s all in the past,” she insisted.

His expression turned pensive. “What’s wrong between us? For a while there, at least we were friends. Now you snap at me every time I come near.”

Over time, her anger had morphed into confusion. Having him around her often made her heart ache. She couldn’t afford to care about him. “There’s Arie.”

“I haven’t forgotten about her, but do you need her permission to dance with me? To be kind to me?”

Of course, he had a valid point. She’d treated him horribly ever since the return from Italy. At first her anger protected her, but lately she hadn’t liked herself very much for being hateful to him. Her chin trembled, and slowly she fell into step within his embrace. Why was life so complicated? “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ll start minding my manners,” she said with genuine contriteness.

“Truce?” he asked, peering at her with a dip of his head and a tentative smile.

She wanted his friendship if she couldn’t have anything else. “Truce,” she whispered. “Now, don’t make me cry. My mascara will run.”

“You’re pretty no matter what,” he said.

“And you’re delusional,” she said, a catch in her voice.

He stopped swaying to the music and held her eyes with his. Time stopped, cradling the two of them as voices in the room began a ten-second countdown to the new year. Jon raised her chin with his forefinger and brushed his lips across hers. “Happy New Year, boss lady.”

He stepped away and the world once again began to move. He walked Ciana to her table, where glasses of champagne
waited. She watched him return to the bridal table and to Arie’s side. A new year, a new beginning. The band played “Auld Lang Syne.”

After the toasts and cheers, hugs and kisses, Ciana took Eden’s elbow. “Let’s split.”

“First, look what I captured.” Eden brandished an unopened bottle of bubbly.

“How—”

Eden wagged her hand at a young waiter standing in a corner and smiled flirtatiously. “Raoul. Cute, isn’t he?”

“What did you promise him? Because I want out of here. Our hotel room is calling me.”

“Don’t panic. They’re promises I won’t keep.” Eden blew kisses toward the eager-looking Raoul.

“You are so wicked,” Ciana said with a shake of her head.

“Ain’t I, though.” She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I want to go to our room too. I want to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The future.”

Eden and Ciana snuggled in chairs outside on the balcony of their Nashville hotel room, bundled in flannel pj’s, thick socks, and blankets, with an open champagne bottle on the floor between them. They watched the night sky still erupting from time to time with fireworks. “That was a pretty one,” Eden noted as golden sparkles shimmered above.

They watched a few minutes longer for the next explosion, until Ciana asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Whoa. We can’t discuss the future until we celebrate the old year—the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“You first.”

Eden said, “The good—we graduated.” She took a sip from the bottle and passed it to Ciana.

“Seems like a million years ago, though … The bad—Olivia died.”

“Take two sips,” Eden said. “One for her memory. One just because we can.”

Another burst of fireworks popped into a mushroom of red, blue, and gold rain. Ciana oohed in the dark.

Eden said, “And the ugly.”

In unison, both girls raised their fists and shouted, “Tony!”

“The good,” Ciana said, after sipping from the bottle and passing it to Eden. “Arie’s remission.”

“And the ugly—her relapse.” Eden passed the bottle back, adding, “The very good—going to Italy.”

“True,” Ciana sighed. Her head was spinning from the champagne, and she was glad she only had to stumble inside and fall into bed. “The art was pretty. Arie was right about that.”

“Enzo was pretty too,” Eden said, realizing she had no feeling in her lower lip. “Question. Do you wish you’d have gone with him to Portofino? I mean, if Arie hadn’t gotten sick?”

“Sometimes.” Ciana brooded. “He was gorgeous. And he did promise me a real good time.”

Eden giggled. “I’ll bet. I saw him on one of the celebrity TV channels. He was rolling out of a limo with some starlet, or maybe it was a countess, hanging on to him.”

Ciana shook her head. The patio whirled. “Men are fickle. Imagine choosing some glamorous starlet over a farm girl like me. I’m crushed.” She raised the bottle. “A toast to Enzo, both good and bad.”

Eden took the bottle, turned it up, but only one lone
drop trickled out. She set it on the cement floor and glanced around. “Where’s Raoul when I need him?”

The question sent both her and Ciana off into gales of laughter. “I know a really good thing that happened to all of us last year,” Eden said when she regained her composure. “All of us, Arie, you, and me, we fell in love.”

Ciana hugged her blanket tightly. “Not me.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Ciana made a face. “Well, this is a new year and I’m going to fall
out
of love. Mind over matter.” She conjured up Jon’s green eyes, the brush of his lips across her skin. She shivered, but not from the cold.

“And since you bring up the new year and the future, my mom announced that she’s selling our house and moving to Tampa.”

“What?” Ciana’s chair clunked onto the cement. “What about you? Are you going with her?”

“Fat chance.”

Ciana shook her finger at Eden. “Good! You can come live with me. Our old house has tons of space. In fact, I insist that you move in with me and my now-sober mother.” She hiccupped. “Seriously.”

“That’s a nice offer, but I have another plan.”

“Like what?”

“I want to go back to Europe. I want to find Garret.”

Ciana saw Eden’s determined expression. “
Can
you find him?”

“No luck so far. I tried reaching him through that travel magazine he was working for, but it’s defunct.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. After the expansion talk, it folded. I’ve emailed the company, but everything bounces back. I’ve
done a Web search on his name. He’s not listed on any social website. His byline comes up and I can read his articles, but the man himself has vanished.” She slumped. “I don’t even know if he wants to see me again. All I want is a chance to explain what happened and why I didn’t meet up with him.”

“And until you find him?”

“Work. Save money. Keep looking. And if I do locate him, ask if he still wants me to come on his walkabout. If he does, I’ll spend every dime I have getting to wherever he is.”