how ridiculous she was being, but it was true. Corrado told me I did not have to hide any longer, that we would be getting married in the daylight for everyone to see, and here we were—about to take the walk to church without fear.
“Alcina!” Mamma smiled at me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. She ran her hands over my veil, right above it, not touching me. She wanted to, but it did not seem as if she wanted to mess up what she had done. “La mia bambina.” My baby girl.
She kissed her palms and then put them to each side of my cheeks. I closed my eyes, relaxing into her touch, and then a tear slipped when she kissed my forehead.
“You are not only effortless beauty, Alcina,” she whispered. “You are bold strength. Remember that, ah?”
“I will remember,” I whispered.
“Bene.” She kissed me again, letting her lips linger. “Because that man is going to try your patience, your devotion, your love.”
I opened my eyes to meet her serious ones.
“They all do, bambina mia. In their own ways, capisci? Your man has a mind of his own. A strong mind. That is good. Once he wants something, or not, it does not change.” She shrugged. “He wants you. And right now…this is all so romanticismo. As it should be. The villain has turned into the hero. Your knight in shining armor. But where there is light, there is always dark, ah? We have to learn how to balance both. We must be determined to love even when the romance fades.”
“Si, mamma.” I nodded.
Anna sighed. “If he does not treat you right—”
We all looked at each other and then made a cutting motion with our fingers, a snip, snip noise with our mouths.
Mamma pulled us both in, careful of my veil, as we laughed, and told us as long as her blood pumped through our veins, she knew we would be all right.
The warmth of the sun poured over my face as I kept it turned up to the sky.
As a girl, I had dreamed of roses and candlelight on this day. But as a woman, I wanted moonflowers and the sun.
Papà took my left hand and kissed my ring finger. The ring, which reminded me of a halo, dazzled as fiercely as the Mediterranean Sea. “I have never seen flowers like that before,” he said.
I opened my eyes and looked down. Moonflowers. Corrado had sent over the bouquet, my rosary wrapped around the lace-covered stems. “They are night blooming.” I grinned.
Papà sighed and turned his face forward. When he had seen me for the first time earlier, he had cried. It did not seem like he wanted to cry again.
“Papà,” I said. “I am going to be okay.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes forward. “As long as he remembers what it means to sing.”
“You brought him to his knees,” I whispered.
“Amore,” Papà corrected me. “Amore brought him to his knees, so to speak.” He cleared his throat. “My blessing was his then.”
Anna stood ahead of us on the steps. She turned around and nodded at us before she walked into the church. A minute or two after, papà and I followed.
A choir sang in the background. The sun’s rays pierced through the stained glass, but the colors subdued it, making the light glow instead of blind. Even with the prisms of color, the air reminded me of amber again, the smoky smell of burning candles drifting. I was brought back to that cold day in December, when I had asked for things I needed.
One look at the man waiting for me, and I knew every prayer had been answered.
He would be all I ever wanted. All I ever needed.
The amber was not to warn me, but to warm me.
With each step that I took, with every step I had always taken, I came closer and closer to him. But I had to pass through different levels of light as I did. Brightness that blinded. Darkness that made me narrow my eyes to see better. Then there were the areas that glowed from the prisms. They were absolutely heavenly, soothing in a way that was difficult to describe.
I would forever remember this day, the sound of my footsteps, of the journey, to help me balance the light and the darkness life would bring, as mamma had said. I would always remember that each step I took, one foot in front of the other, would always lead me to love.
One step. Another.
Corrado