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The Marcelli Bride


“It’ll get done,” Darcy said. “There are plenty of hands to lighten the load.”


“When did you get philosophical?”


“When Lorenzo Marcelli died in my arms.”


“I want to talk to you about that.”


She looked away. “I’m okay.”


He doubted that, but before he could say anything, Mia ran into the room. Tears poured down her cheeks as she headed directly for Joe. He pushed back from the desk in time for her to drop into his lap and rest her face against his shoulder.


“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she cried. “I loved him so much and I never told him.”


“He knew,” Joe told her as he awkwardly put his arms around her.


She cried until he felt the moisture seep through his shirt. He patted her back and looked at Darcy, desperate to know what to do next.


“It was very quick,” Darcy said. “He was at peace.”


Mia straightened and looked at her. “You swear? He wasn’t in pain.”


“Not at all.”


“I’m glad.” The tears made her face all blotchy.


Ian walked into the room, and Mia left Joe to hurry into his arms. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “He was fine when we left. Just fine.”


For once Ian didn’t seem to have anything to say. He gave them a sympathetic smile and ushered a sobbing Mia out of the library.


“Too much emotion,” Joe said when she’d left.


“Mia leads with her heart,” Darcy told him. “I’m going to guess she’ll keep doing that until someone breaks it.”


He didn’t want to think about that happening. Honestly, he didn’t want to think about anything. Right now he would sell his left nut for a military crisis calling him back to duty. He didn’t care where, just so long as it was away from here.


But the phone didn’t ring and Tessa entered the room with a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee.


“You’ve been in here so long,” she said quietly. “You missed lunch.”


She seemed smaller and more frail. As if the essence of who she was had been lost. As she set the tray down, she began to tremble. Joe stood, then looked helplessly at Darcy.


“Hold her,” she mouthed.


Joe stared at the tiny woman, then opened his arms to her. Tessa stepped into his embrace and began to cry. He pulled her close and stroked her back. She barely came to the center of his chest, and he was afraid if he held her too tightly, she would snap in two.


Darcy stood and moved to the bookcase, where she grabbed a box of tissues and passed them to him. He offered a couple to Tessa, who took them and wiped her face.


“I’m a foolish old woman,” she murmured.


Darcy hugged her. “You’re wonderful and you miss your husband. Of course there are tears. We’re all sad. Lorenzo would probably tell us we were being foolish, crying over what we can’t change. Then he’d want to know if anyone is checking on the grapes.”


Tessa looked at her. A slight smiled pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, you are right. That is what he would have said. But he would have been happy, too, to know how much we miss him.”


She touched the large, carved desk. “He would sit here sometimes in the evening. He would do the books and I would read to Marco, or knit. In the winter we’d have a fire.” Tears filled her eyes again. She opened her mouth, closed it, then quickly left.


Joe sank back onto his chair. “I’ve reached my limit. When is this going to be over?”


“Not for a long time.”


He didn’t like the sound of that. “Marco should be running things. Everyone’s looking to me.”


“Because you’re the strong one. Those with natural leadership ability always rise to a position of authority.”


“It’s his family.”


She walked around the desk and crouched in front of him. After taking both his hands in hers, she looked at him. Just looked.


He knew what she wanted—for him to admit it was his family, too. But he couldn’t. Accepting the Marcellis as his own changed too much.


“I’m not one of them,” he said stubbornly. “I know that makes me a real bastard, but I’m okay with that.”


“Denial doesn’t change reality.”


“This isn’t my reality.”


She rose and, still holding his hands, leaned forward and lightly kissed him.


“Don’t keep pushing them away. Learn from your past.”

He jerked free. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”


He hadn’t pushed Alicia away. She’d gone on her own.


Darcy shrugged. “Have it your way.” She left.


Alone in the silence, he thought. It was all he wanted. All he’d ever wanted.


Thursday morning Darcy reported for kitchen duty. Grandma Tessa had found out about the caterers and had a fit. She’d called in all the Marcelli women and Darcy to prepare everything. A menu had been posted on the refrigerator, Mia, Colleen, and Ian had been sent out for supplies, and now Grandma Tessa assigned tasks.


“Brenna, you’ll need to stay off your feet,” she said. “You can sit at the table and chop. Nothing more.”


Brenna nodded. “Anything you want. You know that.”


Her grandmother glared at her. “Stop being so nice to me. It makes me want to cry. No tears today. Today we cook. Tomorrow all those people will come to pay their respects to Lorenzo. They’ll drink Marcelli wine and they’ll eat Marcelli food. Nothing else.” Her gaze narrowed as she turned her attention to Katie.


“I was only trying to help,” her granddaughter said. “I thought I was helping.”


“No. Helping is washing all the chickens when Mia brings them back.”


The back door opened and Grammy M walked into the kitchen. Tessa stared at her for a long moment, then held open her arms. The two old ladies rushed together and hugged tightly.


“I’m sorry,” Grammy M murmured. “Oh, Tessa, your pain. I would have come sooner, but I was thinkin’…” She gave a little sob. “I don’t know what I was thinkin’. I can’t believe he’s gone. I’ve barely seen him these past three years. I regret that. And not seein’ you.”


They rocked back and forth.


“No,” Tessa said. “I’m sorry. My harsh words.”


Grammy M straightened and looked at her friend. “’Tis no matter. I’ll be moving back in. Gabriel’s packin’ my things. It’ll be like it was before.”


Tessa stared at her. “What did you say?”


“I’m movin’ back in. Oh, Tessa, you need me now. I feel so horrible about what I did. You made me mad with your talk of the good Lord punishin’ me, so I vowed not to come back until you apologized. Now I see I was an old fool. We’re not gettin’ any younger. We need to take advantage of the time we have left.”


“Do you love him?” Tessa asked fiercely.


“Gabriel? Of course I love him.”


Tessa marched to the phone and picked it up. “Then you call him right now and tell him to stop packing. You’re staying there. If you love him, Mary, then hold on to him for as long as you have together. I don’t care if you’re married or not. I was mad because you seemed to leave so easily. As if I didn’t matter.”


“You matter,” Grammy M said, throwing herself at her friend. “You matter more than anyone.”


Brenna was already weeping. The Grands cried, Katie cried, Francesca had put aside the flour she was measuring and searched for tissues. Darcy felt her own emotions give way.


Brenna pushed herself to her feet and waddled over to the Grands. “Group girl hug,” she said, motioning Darcy in. Katie and Francesca joined them.


For Darcy, the pain of loss combined with the sweetness of feeling as if she belonged. In this time of family tragedy, the Marcellis reached out to include her.


Later, when the groceries had arrived and the tasks were assigned, she went with Grandma Tessa to collect the family silver from a pantry under the main staircase.


“We’ll need all the serving pieces,” Grandma Tessa said. “Bowls, chafing dishes.”


She stepped aside so Darcy could duck into the small room. Shelves filled the space, and each shelf was crowded with beautiful pieces in silver, silver and glass, and crystal.


“This is all so incredible,” Darcy breathed. “I’ve been to the White House, and I have to tell you, this is just as lovely.”


Tessa smiled. “You’re kind to say so. Bring everything to the dining room table. Don’t worry, I won’t put you to work washing it all. You’re helpful in the kitchen. Francesca will be in charge of washing and polishing. She never was very handy with a knife.”


Darcy nodded. She would have to put the leaves in the table first, or there wouldn’t be room. But then five hundred was a lot of people to feed, especially on three days’ notice.


Tessa turned to leave. Darcy hesitated, then stopped her. “I know I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I…” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t come get you or anyone. I wanted to, but then he said he didn’t want to be alone. I screamed for help, but no one heard me. I just…” She had to swallow against the tightness and the tears. “I’m sorry he wasn’t with family. At the end, I mean.”


Tessa looked at her for a long time, then patted her arm. “Lorenzo died with someone he cared about very much, Darcy. That makes you family. I’m glad you were with him. So very glad.”


Darcy nodded, but she couldn’t see or speak. There were too many tears and no way to stop them.


Paige was prepared to go to the mat on this one. “Darcy’s request isn’t unreasonable,” she said, striving for patience, when she really wanted to hit Alex over the head and tie him up in the closet for a couple of days.


“No one is supposed to know the president’s daughter is here. You don’t think one of the five hundred people at the funeral will notice?” Alex demanded in a tone that told her he thought she was an idiot.


“She’s hardly going to be parading herself around. She’ll be in a hat with a heavy veil. We’ll walk her in at the end and she’ll duck out a side door right before the services end. She’s not asking to go to the graveside and she’s going to stay in her room with the door locked until the wake is over. That’s more than reasonable.”


“What’s reasonable is not going out at all. We’re talking five hundred people, Paige. Do you know what kind of security nightmare this is? We should move her to a secure location until all this mess is over. Typical Darcy, she’s refusing to leave.”


Paige took a step toward him and raised her chin. “Typical Darcy? What does that mean? How has she even once been difficult? How has she made your job harder? The only goddamn time she was left on her own was because of a shift change and the fact that you forgot to schedule overlap. Which happened to be the exact moment Lorenzo Marcelli died.” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “Darcy was on her own with a dying man and no one around her. Did she come to you and point out the screwup? Did she threaten you? Not even close. So don’t you dare tell me that she’s been difficult.”


Temper flared in his dark blue eyes. He carefully pushed her finger away. “Why is this so important?”


“Because she cares about these people. Because they mean something to her. An emotion you’ve probably never experienced, but it’s there for the rest of the world.”


Alex glared at her. “We do things by the book on my watch.”


“Right. And sometimes mistakes get made.”


He didn’t respond. Paige knew it had to be killing him that he’d messed up. Such a minor thing, not assigning any overlap. It could have happened to anyone. But it had happened to Alex, and she was more than willing to press that point home.

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