One Winter Weekend

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“ Y ou can’t be serious,” Helen said to Fabrizio as he led her, Caroline, Patricia, and Molly to Santa Maria, a tiny church close to the Trevi fountain, “This is a church ?”

From the outside, it wasn’t much to look at; indeed, Helen would have walked right past it on any other day, thinking it an apartment or maybe a small hotel.

But a church?

“Wait till you see it, Mum,” Molly responded cheerily. “It’s absolutely perfect .”

Helen and Patricia exchanged skeptical glances – but those looks began to melt the second they stepped into the building.

The inside of Santa Maria was as far from its nondescript exterior as could possibly be.

It was certainly tiny – just a single row of wooden pews extended in front of the altar – but it was adorned in magnificent Italian opulence.

Paintings of the Virgin Mary and the crucifixion hung in ornately woven golden frames along the sides of the entrance. Renaissance-era archways held up walls reaching to the sky.

And most impressively, a large fresco, painted on the ceiling, showed the Assumption of Mary in vibrant colours that stood with even the great Sistine Chapel as a Renaissance masterpiece.

Molly had seen the church before, but to be getting married in it was beyond her wildest dreams.

“See, Mum?” she laughed at her mother’s gaping mouth. “I told you this would be great.”

“Well,” Patricia told her, “I have to admit, Molly, that I was indeed a bit worried about this when Ben told me how tiny the church would be— oh my!”

Patricia was surprised by a man dressed all in black, standing quietly and solemnly in the back of the church next to the Advent wreath. It took her only a moment to realise he was the priest. “Beg your pardon, Father,” she said apologetically.

The priest waved his hand as if to say, don’t worry about it , and summoned the four women and their companion to him.

His face was serene, but it suddenly became quite expressive, a smile breaking out across his wide face. “ Buongiorno ! Buongiorno !” he said excitedly, “ e Buon Natale !”

“ Buon Natale, Padre ,” Fabrizio replied. “ è tutto pronto per il matrimonio di oggi? ”

“Please, Fabrizio,” the priest said happily, “For respect of our guests, let us speak in English.” He went straight up to Molly. “And you, I imagine, must be our beautiful bride.”

She smiled. “I am,” she said happily.

“Wonderful. Wonderful! Well. I am Padre Giuseppe Mazzolo, but please, call me Padre Beppe.”

“Padre Beppe,” she cooed, “I’d like to introduce my mum Helen, my best friend Caroline, and my fiance’s mother Patricia.”

Padre Beppe seemed absolutely tickled. “It is so good to see you. We so rarely get to have non-local weddings here. This is very exciting for me.”

“For us, too,” Helen replied.

“I am certain,” Padre Beppe said. “So,” he continued, slapping his hands together, “We have a little sanctuary in the back where you can get prepared and so that your husband does not see you before we start. Since there is only a small congregation today, I have done away with much of the boring stuff. We will make this very bam-bam-bam, quick and painless, yes?”

The women laughed.

“That sounds … perfect, Padre,” Molly said, gulping a little.

“Well,” Fabrizio told the group, “it seems you have everything you need here. I must go and prepare something for the groom, and then bring the men over here. I will see you ladies shortly.” He turned to walk out the front of the church.

Molly nodded in her bridesmaid’s direction and then jerked her head towards Fabrizio.

Caroline took her meaning. “Excuse me just one moment,” she said, “There’s something I need to, just really fast…” With that, she hiked up the bottom of her dress and shuffled down the aisle quickly. “Fabrizio,” she called. “Wait up a second, would you?”

Fabrizio paused and turned around on the steps outside the church. Caroline joined him outside and caught her breath. “Is everything okay, signorina ?” he asked.

Caroline took a deep breath before starting. “Look,” she said, “I wanted to explain myself. About last night…”

“Ah,” he said, holding up a hand, “there is no need. I realise I overstepped.”

“No, Fabrizio,” she said, slightly abashed. “That’s not what I meant at all. I was … I’ve never been very good at romance. I’ve always been… guarded. Especially when it comes to something spontaneous like this.”

“But how could one live without spontaneity?” he asked sincerely.

Caroline shrugged. “I guess I just like to have a plan,” she replied. “Or at least an exit strategy. I don’t just go on flings. And I certainly don’t just fall for random strange men.”

“Fall for?” he repeated bemusedly.

“Yeah. That’s not me. I’m not the kind to fall head-over-heels for a guy I’ve only just met. And yet…”

Fabrizio grinned. “And yet,” he said quietly, “you find yourself… falling for me?”

Caroline looked down at her shoes, feeling stupid. “Yeah,” she whispered, feeling her face go hot like she was a teenager.

Fabrizio placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her head up to face him. “Caroline,” he said, “I do not know where this path will lead us. But I do know one thing: if I did not at least follow the path as far as I can, I would regret it the rest of my life. Is this what you feel?”

She nodded.

“Then perhaps we should take the journey together,” Fabrizio said. And with that, he leaned in and kissed her.

After what seemed like an eternity (but more likely was only a few seconds), he broke away. “I am very sorry,” he said, “but I really do have to go. But I will return soon. And afterwards we can spend a bit more time together, yes?”

“I’d like that,” Caroline smiled. “But yeah, go. Go get the groom.”

Fabrizio nodded and went off as Caroline returned to the church a huge smile on her face.

Inside the sanctuary, Molly cast her a furtive glance. “So…?” she inquired.

Caroline shrugged. “So… what, Mol?”

“Oh come on !” Molly nearly exploded. “What’s the story with your Italian gigolo?”

Caroline only smiled in response.