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Chantelle excused herself to go back to the part of the store where we’d entered. When she returned, it was with three boxes in her hands.
The first pair of shoes were white satin pumps—elegant, but not what I wanted. Chantelle set them on the floor. The second pair sparkled under the artificial lights of the space having a blinding effect on everyone nearby. Chantelle turned the shoes at an angle, and I was able to see they were silver sequined high heels—pretty, but still not what I wanted. They were placed on the floor beside the first pair and the moment I saw what was next, I knew they were what I wanted.
“Those are the ones, please.”
Chantelle helped me slip the shoes onto my feet and I tested them with a few steps. It was like walking on clouds. The lace-covered pumps with a stiletto heel were the perfect match for the dress.
I spent a few moments turning this way and that, admiring how I looked in the mirrors before turning to face Lucia. Her eyes were watery with tears, both hands clasped in her lap, and I noticed they shook slightly.
“Darling, you are exquisite.” Lucia’s voice was shaky.
“Are you happy with everything, Nikita?” Chantelle asked.
“I’m very happy. Everything is perfect. Thank you.”
“I can’t wait to see you in church.”
"You'll be there?" I asked.
Chantelle glanced at Lucia. "Lucia invited me when she called earlier, and it will be my pleasure to witness your wedding."
“I’m glad to know you and Lucia will be there to offer support.”
Chantelle assisted me to undress, and after selecting lacy underwear, and lace-topped, thigh-high stockings, Lucia and I hugged her and left.
***
The afternoon had my head spinning, it was as if Lucia was determined to organise the wedding in ten minutes. Our next visit was to St. Giles.
Father Patrick was an elderly man with a receding hairline and stooped stance. He greeted Lucia with affection glowing from his eyes. During our talk, I learned he had actually baptised Benvolio and he was disappointed the man and his father were not regular church attendees like Lucia. He was more than happy to change the arrangements Benvolio had made to accommodate Lucia's request to preside over the vows in two days' time.
Our following stop after meeting with the priest was a store called Fleur D'Amour. I watched as Lucia left the car, concerned our running all over town for the past couple of hours would have taken its toll on the elderly woman. I couldn't have been more wrong. While I was beginning to flag, Lucia was still full of life.
When we entered the store, Lucia was welcomed by two men, probably in their mid-thirties, and they were stunningly handsome. They hugged Lucia before turning to me. Both had one of their hands flattened on their chests.
“Who is this exquisite woman?” the one with red hair asked.
“Alec.” Lucia pointed to the man with red hair. “Eroldo.” She indicated the other who had thick brown hair. “This lovely lady is Nikita.”
The two men smiled. "Lucia called earlier and said Benvolio was to marry and I could barely believe what she was saying. She graciously invited us, and we'll be there with bells on to see the man shackled," Alec laughed.
Lucia had been making calls from the car all afternoon and I’d heard her issuing invitations. I had a feeling the two men would be a lot of fun.
“Are you two married?” I asked.
Eroldo leaned over and pasted a kiss to Alec’s lips. “For eight wonderful years.”
I smiled as I watched the way the men spoke to each other through their eyes. It left me with no doubt they were deeply in love. They had what I wanted. Maybe one day…
“Alec and Eroldo supply the flowers for my estate and I’m sure they would be happy to do the same for your home when you’re the lady of the house. I have been trying to convince Benvolio to do so for years.
“I shall definitely speak with these gentlemen as I adore fresh flowers.”
Eroldo dropped a hand to his hip and studied me. "I'd say you are a lillies girl. I can see you with a bouquet...the stems tied with a wide bow...the ends flowing downward." Eroldo's hands flew all around his head as he spoke excitedly.
“Fuck, no. One of my friends has always said lillies are death flowers and bad luck for the living. A number of incidences over the years have cemented my belief in the superstition. I don’t believe in a lot of that crap but do when it involves peacock feathers and lillies. I want neither anywhere near me, thank you.”
"Okay. I know a number of people who believe as you do...that lillies are only for funerals. What is your favourite flower?" Alec asked.
