Deep (Pagano Family #4)(88)
Peace.
Carmen had two bridesmaids, Sabina and Rosa, and Theo had two groomsmen, his grown sons. Nick had only met one, the older, Eli. He was Rosa’s guy. The younger son was wearing his tux with a idiosyncratic flair that was scandalizing some of the more elderly guests. His evident eyeliner had caused some flutters, too.
The preparations had been fairly speedy for a wedding of this size. They’d only been engaged for a couple of months. And they lived in Maine now. The Pagano women of Quiet Cove—specifically Sabina, Adele, Angie, and Nick’s mother—had taken on the burden of the work. And Beverly had been pulled in, too.
Nick had been surprised at that—she’d still been reeling from Mills’ death when his mother had called her. But, typical of Beverly, she’d been happy to help, and now she was deep in the bosom of his family. She’d spent more time on Caravel Road in the past two weeks than Nick had in probably the past two years.
As he was scanning the crowd, getting a bead on his guys, Beverly shifted, leaning away. “Sure, I’ll take her,” he heard her say.
He turned back to see Carmen and Theo’s daughter, Teresa, dressed in a tiny lavender dress, in Beverly’s arms. Adele was easing out of their pew and moving up one. She must have asked for help with the baby. And then he met his mother’s eyes, and she smiled.
He smiled back, shaking his head. That woman was wily, he’d give her that.
Teresa was a beautiful, quiet little girl, with big, blue eyes, lots of black hair, and a pretty little rosebud of a mouth. She was—Nick counted quickly—six months old but looked quite a bit younger because she’d been born ten weeks premature. And that was another hurt to lay on the pyre of their war with Church: Carmen getting shot when she was seven months pregnant. At Nick’s father’s funeral.
It seemed a selfish thing to consider bringing a child into a world where such things could happen.
The music started, and the bridesmaids began their procession. Nick knew that was happening and that almost everyone was watching the aisle. He, though, was watching Beverly as she settled Teresa in her arms and let her play with the new bracelet dangling from her wrist.
His mother needn’t have conspired to put a baby in Beverly’s arms where he could see. He already wanted this, and he supposed he was selfish, because was undeterred by the dangers of his life. But he didn’t want to rush her. The summer had been excruciating for her, and he wanted to be sure she was truly back and strong.
Seeing her now, cooing quietly at the sweet child in her arms, not minding at all that Teresa was sucking on $15,000 worth of diamonds and pearls, Nick was overrun with a need he could only think of as homesickness.
He wasn’t sure he could wait much longer to have everything he selfishly wanted.
oOo
Though the wedding had been surprisingly formal, the reception was on the beach. His cousins did everything at the beach. Two big pavilion tents had been set up on Carmen’s stretch of sand, near her cottage. John lived there now.
Nick wasn’t especially comfortable on the beach. To him, the beauty and power of the ocean was in its solitude. The beach on a late-summer Saturday afternoon was anything but solitary. Especially when a few hundred people were all gathered together to celebrate.
Beverly was enjoying herself, however, and he enjoyed that. At the moment, she was down at the waterline, standing in the surf, talking to Luca’s wife, Manny. She was wearing a simple but beautiful one-piece bathing suit that was the exact blue of her eyes. It wasn’t one he’d seen before; when she did laps, she wore a basic Speedo.
She’d tried to coax him into wearing swim trunks, but that was not his way. He was a strong swimmer, and he’d have been happy to do laps with her in the pool if didn’t mean he’d have to give up watching her from above. But he didn’t splash in the surf. Or play volleyball. Or otherwise behave like a child or a drunken college boy.
He was in jeans. And she’d convinced him to unbutton his shirt and take his shoes off. That was beachy enough.
The spread was both casual and sumptuous. In one of the tents was a dinner buffet with tables arrayed around it—all the standard New England beach fare, stepped up a couple of notches. The other tent was an open bar. Most people were milling about in the sand, occasionally going into one tent or the other. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.
Nick stood at a remove from the crowd, drinking a bottled lager from the Quiet Cove Brewery, watching Beverly while she moved lazily through the water, chatting with Manny. Every now and then he scanned the edges, making note of his guys.
“What is it you do for fun?” A wry female voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Carmen grinning at him, her own bottle of lager now at her lips. She was wearing a bright red bikini. Blushing bride, indeed.
He grinned and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Carm. Best wishes. You look happy.”
“Thanks. I am. You should try it. It’s pretty great.”
Ignoring her gibe, he sent her one of his own. “Where’s your man? You lose him already?”
She punched his arm lightly. “Changing a diaper. How come you’re off here in Siberia?”
“You know this isn’t my thing.”
“Fun, right. Not your thing.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. Carmen teasing him about not being able to have fun was pretty f*cking rich. Guest of honor or not, she hated these things almost as much as he did. On more than one occasion, they’d sat together on the outskirts of gatherings like this. “You’re feeling pretty saucy today.”