The Marcelli Bride
Page 26
Lorenzo pushed to his feet. “To my family,” he said, raising his glass.
Darcy instantly looked at Joe, who hesitated before picking up his glass. Darcy picked up hers as well, knowing that while she wasn’t part of the Marcellis, she was happy to wish them the best. They had been more than kind to her.
As soon as the toast was over, Tessa ordered everyone to “Eat. Eat before it gets cold.”
Serving dishes circled the table. Darcy took small portions of everything. Despite her working out, she’d managed to put on enough weight to make half her wardrobe too tight to wear. But it was hard to care about that when she was having such a good time. Funny how just a few short weeks ago she’d arrived feeling scared and angry. It was as if she’d been nothing but sharp edges, and now she was all rounded corners and curves.
“What do you think of life on a winery, Darcy?” Katie asked. “It must be different for you.”
“It is. I really like it.”
“Did you see her designs?” Tessa asked. “So beautiful.”
“I’m thrilled to finally have new wine labels,” Brenna said. “So please accept my heartfelt thanks.”
“I enjoyed working on the labels. And it was my first paying job in the graphic design business.”
“Good for you,” Katie said. “Is that what you studied at college?”
“Actually I was an art major. Painting—oils mostly. Then I discovered I wasn’t very good and switched to graphic design and marketing.”
Grammy M patted her hand. “I’m sure your pictures were delightful.”
“Thank you. I tried, but I didn’t have the talent.”
“You have plenty of talent,” Lorenzo intoned. “You should have seen the labels Brenna has brought me over the years. Goats. Who puts goats on wine bottles?”
Brenna shook her head. “They weren’t goats.”
“Animals then.”
“Stop it, you two,” Katie said mildly. “They’re always like that, but I’m sure you’re used to it by now.”
“Pretty much,” Darcy said with a laugh.
“It was worse before,” Francesca said. “When Brenna moved back here, before she and Nic got together, wow, did she and Grandpa Lorenzo go at it.”
“I had to be sure,” the old man said. “Sure that she wanted to devote herself to the winery. Now she has, and all will be well.”
“We’re a living, breathing soap opera,” Colleen said. “We should be on daytime television.”
“But you hate daytime TV,” Marco said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t watch,” Colleen told him. “I’d like the money though.”
She laughed and everyone joined in. Darcy glanced around the table, then spotted Katie watching her.
“Sorry,” Katie said. “I know everyone else is used to you being here, but I’m still getting over the strangeness of the president’s daughter sitting in the dining room of the house where I grew up. Until now the closest I’ve ever come to seeing you is in magazines.”
“Occupational hazard,” Darcy said.
“I guess. It would be so strange. People thinking they know you when they don’t. Of course I think I know you because of what everyone has told me.”
Darcy instantly glanced at Joe, then away. Katie grinned. “Oh, yeah, I know about that, too.”
“Katie!” Colleen said, scolding her daughter. “Leave Darcy alone.”
“It’s okay,” Darcy said, fighting a blush and having a bad feeling she was losing.
“It’s not her fault,” Francesca said. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Darcy, but we’re all much more interested in Joe’s part in this than yours. We assume you’re normal, but to the best of our knowledge, our big brother has never dated. No one knew about his ex-wife until recently. Intellectually we know there must be dozens of women, but we’ve never seen him with one before. So we’re all curious about how this is working.”
“I’m not a freak of nature,” Joe growled. “I’ve had girlfriends before.”
Conversation ceased. Darcy didn’t mind, because she didn’t have anything to say either. Girlfriends? As in women in relationships? As in, she was one of them? She was his girlfriend?
Her insides got all warm and squishy. Was it true? And if it was, did it matter? Joe wasn’t exactly a commitment-type guy. He handed out crumbs when she wanted a banquet. Had she somehow gotten past his emotional wall, or was she just fooling herself?
Joe shifted uncomfortably in the silence. Brenna opened her mouth, no doubt to say something funny but potentially embarrassing. Fortunately just then Valerie spilled her milk and Eric threw carrots at his sister. Shrieks and tears erupted and Colleen, Francesca, and Katie all jumped to their feet and grabbed for extra napkins. The conversation was forgotten by everyone except Darcy, who found herself staring at Joe. And in a quirk of fate she couldn’t explain, he was staring back. Just looking at her in a way that made her wonder about possibilities and romance and hope and if maybe, just this once, she was going to get it right.
After lunch there was discussion about going for a walk. In the end only Darcy, Grandpa Lorenzo, Brenna, and Nic started out into the vineyards.
“I’ll accept the back pain, being unable to sleep, and the soccer games played in my belly, but why do I have to swell up like a toad?” Brenna asked as they strolled along a shady lane. “My shoes barely fit, I haven’t been able to wear my wedding ring in three months, and we won’t even discuss clothes.”
“It will be worth it,” Nic assured her as he helped her along.
“Ha. Want to trade?”
“Not really.”
Brenna turned to Darcy. “A piece of advice—pass on the whole pregnancy thing. It’s so much more disgusting than anyone tells you. There are things going on in my body that make it feel as if it’s been taken over by aliens.”
“So much talking,” Lorenzo scolded mildly.
“You try carrying around a watermelon in your stomach for nine months.” She came to a stop and rubbed her back. “Okay. This is as far as I go. You two have a nice walk.”
Darcy glanced at Lorenzo. “Do you want to go back?”
He stared out at the horizon, then shook his head. “No. Let’s see how far we can go.”
“I hope you feel better,” Darcy told Brenna.
“Not as much as I do.” Brenna waved, then leaned heavily on Nic, who led the way back to the house.
Darcy moved next to Lorenzo. The old man surprised her by taking her hand and squeezing it.
“We’ll be happy to have you in the family,” he said.
She winced. “I appreciate that, but Joe and I aren’t…That is to say we haven’t…I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”
“I think my grandson is thinking about giving his heart.”
Darcy wasn’t sure about that, although it sounded nice.
“Do you love him?” Lorenzo asked.
Darcy stepped back and smiled. “Okay, I can’t answer that, and maybe we should change the subject.”
“You think I’m an old man who asks too many questions.”
“Pretty much.”
Lorenzo chuckled. They started walking again. The afternoon was still and clear. There were only the calls of birds to break the silence. After another ten or fifteen minutes, Lorenzo stopped, then looked around.
“I must sit down,” he said.
They were in the middle of a row of grapes.
“Right here?” Darcy asked, then gasped as Lorenzo sank to the ground. She rushed over to him and crouched beside him. “Lorenzo?”
He didn’t say anything, but something was very wrong. She could tell by his rapid, shallow breathing and lack of color in his skin.
Oh God. What should she do? She stood and looked around. Where was her Secret Service agent?
But no matter how she scanned the horizon, no one appeared.
She bent down and touched Lorenzo’s hand. “I’ll go get help,” she said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No.” He gripped her fingers. “Don’t go. It’s too late.”
Panic became fear. She felt for his pulse but couldn’t find it. Tears filled her eyes and made it impossible to see.
She knelt on the dirt and looked around. “Help!” she yelled. “Someone help us.”
“Shh.” Lorenzo gave her a slight smile. “Don’t worry, Darcy. It’s all right.”
It wasn’t all right, but she didn’t know what to do. She sat on the ground and lifted his head onto her lap. She held his hand until she realized the only breathing she heard was her own.
“Help,” she called again, knowing it was too late. Over and over she called, but no one answered. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was well and truly alone.
15
J oe put down the phone and reviewed the list in front of him. Even though several things had been checked off, the pile of things to do was getting longer, not shorter. He knew part of the problem was that no one could concentrate. Even he was having trouble staying mentally on task.
It had been two days. Only forty-eight hours since the Marcelli world as he knew it had changed forever. He couldn’t think of this place existing without Lorenzo running things. The old man’s gruff pronouncements were as integral as the house or the vines. How could he be gone?
Everyone had the same question. Everyone wanted to know what to do next. While it made sense for Marco to be in charge, Lorenzo’s only child had turned to Joe when he’d heard the news. The shock in Marco’s eyes had told Joe he was in no shape to make any decisions.
There was a knock at the open library door. Darcy entered and handed him a list.
“The rest of the phone calls have been made,” she told him. “Everyone has been notified. The funeral home will take the body as soon as it’s released, and the church has been arranged for the services Friday morning.”
Joe ignored the list and looked at her. The shadows that had finally started to fade had returned. She looked thin and pale and unbearably sad.
“You shouldn’t be making calls,” he said. “What if someone recognized your voice?”
“I had to help.” She moved into the room and sat down across from his desk. “I didn’t call any friends or family members. Then I would have had to explain who I was. But I took care of the church and the catering. Tessa is saying she wants to cook, but I spoke to Colleen and Marco and they agree it’s just too much for her. They’re expecting nearly five hundred people at the funeral and nearly that many back here. Katie told me who to call, and they’re going to be ready on time. I’m working on getting tents set up in the backyard, along with tables. I should have confirmation before five.”
“You’re good at this,” he said, appreciative of the help. What did he know about putting together a funeral for a man who had been a part of the community for nearly eighty years?
“I grew up in politics,” she said with a shrug. “I know how to organize parties. I know Katie was the more logical choice, but she’s pretty broken up. They all are. Oh, and Mia just got here.”
The youngest Marcelli sister had been missing for the past two days. “Where was she?” he asked.
“She and Ian went down to Mexico and didn’t tell anyone. She got to her hotel in San Diego this morning and got the message. They drove right back. I’m sure she’ll be in to see you in a second.”
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “There’s too much to do.”
There wasn’t. He’d organized tactical assignments for entire SEAL teams. This was nothing, in the logistics department. But emotionally—it was hell.