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Alessio hadn’t mentioned my job yet. Until he did, and I was sure he would, I would carry on working. I wondered how long it would take him to act like a dictator and tell me I could no longer work.
I loved my job working at the school. I knew I would quickly get bored with being a Mafia wife and the limited scope of the role—looking pretty, attending coffee mornings with other wives, and paying my respects to the families of the dead.
***
On the day of the wedding, I woke to the sound of rain drumming against my bedroom window.
They said rain on your wedding day was a sign of good luck, but I wasn’t sure anything could help me now.
We started to get ready late morning. The ceremony was in the early afternoon. There was no hair stylist or make-up artist here today. It wasn’t that sort of wedding, and instead, my grandmother helped me get ready.
My mom should also have been here, I thought, briefly closing my eyes.
Nonna put her hand on my arm. “I know you are thinking of your mom and brother. They’ll be looking down on you from heaven, along with your father.”
As if my father would be in heaven, I thought. We all knew he would be burning in hell for all his sins. For every crime he had committed, for every life he had taken. But I couldn’t think about my family now, especially not my mom, or that would be my undoing today.
My dress was an elegant affair: ice white, with long sleeves and a fitted skirt flaring out into a train. The main detail of the dress was its cut-out back. Nonna helped me put my hair up in an elegant chignon and to fix the long, plain veil in place. “You look beautiful. Alessio Marchiano won’t know what’s hit him.”
Nonna handed me a box. “Look, the bouquet from Alessio has arrived.” I opened it to see a tasteful arrangement of pale pink roses. I was glad it was not an over-the-top arrangement. At least Alessio had got that right.
When it was time to leave for the church, Nonna accompanied me in the car. She sat by my side and held my hand.
We arrived at the church, and my uncle was waiting for me at the entrance. He was giving me away. In fact, he couldn’t wait to hand me over, as he hoped giving me to the Marchiano family would help heal the rift between our families caused by my father’s treachery.
My grandmother fussed around me, straightening my dress and veil as I stood with my uncle at the top of the aisle, waiting for the music to begin.
I held my head high and focused my eyes straight ahead. I wouldn’t cower in Alessio Marchiano’s presence. I was doing this to protect my family.
On my side of the church, there were only two people–my uncle’s wife and my grandmother.
On Alessio’s side of the church were his siblings. There was his older brother, Marco, the Capo of the Fratellanza, and he had at his side his pregnant wife, Juliana. His brother, Camillo, looked uncomfortable in his tuxedo, pulling the tight collar away from his muscled neck. Alessio’s two youngest siblings, Danio and Debi, were also sitting in the pews.
As I proceeded down the aisle, Juliana gave me a sympathetic look. She had been kidnapped on her wedding day and by all accounts had not an easy time of it at the hands of Marco Marchiano.
When I reached the altar, my uncle placed my hand in Alessio’s. I could have avoided Alessio’s gaze, but instead I sent a scowl in his direction, meeting his stormy eyes.
I then looked toward the priest as he began the wedding ceremony. Father Ugolino was the priest at the church frequented by most of the Fratellanza. It would be pointless to expect any help from him. I wouldn’t be the first reluctant bride he had encountered.
“Alessio and Caterina, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”
Alessio replied, “I have.”
Then it was my turn to answer. Father Ugolino using my full name of ‘Caterina’ made me freeze. My father had been the only person to call me ‘Caterina’, but it wasn’t that which floored me. ‘Caterina’ had been my mom’s name. And hearing it brought back memories which I always fought so hard to keep under the surface.
I was finding it difficult to speak. I swallowed the lump in my throat so that I could force the words out. I had no choice but to reply, “I have.”
“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live? And are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his church?”
Alessio replied in a firm voice, “I am.”
I tried to make my voice come out strong, but it faltered as I replied, “I am.” Quite honestly, given the haste of this marriage, I hadn’t even given a thought to children yet.
“Please join your right hands,” instructed Father Ugolino. We turned to each other, and I listened to Alessio making his vows. It didn’t seem real.
“I, Alessio, take you, Cate, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.” I noticed that he had called me ‘Cate’ rather than ‘Caterina’, confusing me. I wondered if he had picked up my reaction to hearing my mom’s name.
Then it was my turn, and I took a deep breath to fortify myself. “I, Cate, take you, Alessio, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
