5
June 18, 2020
Smith helped Emily down from the carriage and escorted her up to his restaurant. The wedding dress, an ugly costume from the musical, swished at her feet and he couldn't help but envision a moment in the not so distant future when a moment like this would be in fact a celebration of their own union in matrimony. She giggled suddenly as he turned the key in the lock. "Did we really just do that?"
"Yes, Emily, we actually did it." He let go of the doorknob and turned to meet her eye. Whether she was referring to reliving the worst trauma of their lives together on stage in front of the whole world or escaping the wretched after party, he knew not. The only thing he was aware of were the stars in her eyes as they danced together during the finale scene of the play, a scene that just happened to feature a wedding. Smith wanted to be mad at the Bitties for mentioning weddings when he hadn't even proposed yet, but instead he was grateful to them for giving him the final kick in the pants to get it done already. Or maybe not. The deed wasn't done yet, he still had time to lose his nerve. His palms were sweaty and he prayed she couldn't hear the frantic pitter patter of his heart.
Emily timidly stared up at Smith still too shy to really soak in the sight of him. She blushed crimson as she replayed every second of the last several hours in her mind. The rehearsal, the scenes with Cecile pretending to be Felicity, the songs that spoke to the truth of their real life situation so well they might as well have been written specially for them. Despite it all, brainwashing, Felicity, werewolves, awkward musicals, and meddling family members, they were still here and ready to take on the heartache together.
"Was that too traumatizing for you?" asked Smith.
Emily thought hard for a moment. Never in a million years did she think that Bitty and Bitty would bother to write a musical about her life. She used to be a little jealous of everyone else who had lives worth being retold as important stories. She didn't want the attention or the fame, but she was touched that the Bitties included her story with Smith into the growing cannon of Quansa Plays. "It was incredibly difficult," Emily admitted. "Especially the brainwashing scene. But some parts were good, almost therapeutic."
"I didn't think it was too bad," Smith agreed. "Difficult yes, but not impossible. Certainly got me thinking about our relationship and where it's headed."
Emily's heart sank. Was he going to break up with her? Why should he stick around after all the trauma to pick up the pieces of her heart again and again when he could cut all ties with this crazy family and go find a normal Italian girl? Smith turned to finally open the door to restaurant. Since they were expecting to find the restaurant empty and dark, they were surprised to find it well-lit with plenty of candles and the aroma of warm Italian food cooking.
"Sit, sit," said Geovanni wearing his chef hat and waving a wooden spoon at a perfectly set table in the center of the room.
"Geovanni," Smith protested. "You don't need to-"
"Oh, yes, yes I do," replied Geovanni. "This is called setting a romantic scene. Just play along with it, my boy."
Smith didn't feel quite right about letting the old man do this for them when they should have been serving him, their elder and their guest. "You came all this way from Italy-"
"To give you a romantic dinner," said Geovanni. "Now sit, the food is getting cold."
Emily giggled.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Geovanni waved the wooden spoon at Smith accusingly. "I'm not getting any younger and that girl isn't getting any prettier."
Smith shrugged hopelessly while Emily grinned. He pulled out a chair for Emily to sit. He sat across from her and gulped nervously. The candlelight made the sparkles in her eyes glow even more brightly. As Geovanni reached to place a basket of breadsticks on their table, he whispered in Smith's ear, "This is the night to ask a question."
Smith nodded hoping Emily didn't hear. Her observing gaze missed nothing as her cheeks burned red again. They didn't speak much as they ate the best food Geovanni had to offer, the finest taste of Italy that they would ever get. Words weren't necessary. They were the types who were often just happy to sit and be with each other. Needless chatter only got in the way. They were starving from putting on the greatest performance of their musical theater career and were content to simply enjoy sharing the meal.
Eventually, Smith cleared his throat. "Sooo," said Smith.
An awkward moment of silence passed.
"Sooo," said Emily.
"I guess 'Can I Have This Dance?' is officially our song now," said Smith inwardly cursing himself for sounding like a dork.
Emily giggled and inwardly cursed herself for giggling too much and appearing like a ditzy fool of a girl. "I guess it is."
"You look beautiful in that dress."
Emily's face turned fire engine red. "Oh, this stark white wedding dress? It's hideous."
"You might think the dress is hideous, but I know the girl wearing it is beautiful. Besides, maybe you might be wearing a dress of that kind soon enough."
Emily's heart nearly stopped. Did that mean he just. . . . . .?
They were quiet again until Smith blurted out, "I was wondering-"
"Yes?" said Emily.
"If you would like to-"
"Like to what?"
"Help me scrub the floors tomorrow morning," Smith finished rapidly.
In the kitchen, Geovanni smacked a hand against his forehead and decided to rescue them. He pulled out his trusty viola and slipped quietly into the dining area.
"Oh," said Emily in a very small voice. "Sure."
They were silent as Geovanni began to play "Bella Notte" from Lady and the Tramp on his viola. Wait, Geovanni knew how to play the viola? Smith thought to himself. When did that happen? Oh, well, I'll just go with it.
The deep, rich tones of the viola sang throughout the restaurant.
Oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night
And we call it bella notte
Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes
On this lovely bella notte
They were silent again, just listening to the song of the viola fill the restaurant with a growing crescendo. Smith was mesmerized, almost completely frozen in place by the stars shining in Emily's eyes.
"Samantha once told me that relationships end in one of two ways," Emily muttered miserably worried that this night may not end the way she hoped it might.
To her utmost horror, Smith heard her comment and asked, "Which ways?"
"Horrible, messy breakups or-" Emily broke off with her face betraying her by going red yet again.
"Or?" Smith prompted.
Emily closed her eyes and cringed, her cheeks going an even deeper shade of red. "Or marriage."
"Hmmm," said Smith and Emily died of shame on the inside.
They fell quiet again for a long moment that seemed to swell into eternity for Emily yet at the same time not stretch long enough to buy Smith as much time as he wanted. "Hmmm," Smith said again. "Maybe we can do something about that. What did you think of the proposal scene in the play?"
"Oh," said Emily wishing her face would cooperate. "It was okay I guess, but perhaps-"
"Perhaps I can do better," said Smith suddenly standing up from the table. "Let's give it another try." He went down on one knee.
Emily's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Smith."
He fumbled in his pocket for the dang ring. Once he had it he held it out and fixed his gaze solely on it saying, "Emily, the road we've been down is broken and filled with pain. I can't deny that and give you a clean fairy tale with no traumatic werewolf and brainwashing memories. But we're still standing together. It seems we can survive anything as long as it's together. And that, to me, sounds like the best foundation for a solid marriage that we could possiblly ask for. I love you my dear, sweet Emily, so will you marry me?"
"Oh, Smith." Emily was crying now and for one terrifying second Smith was stuck on his knee petrified far more than he had been all night when they had been on stage in front of billions of people. "Oh, Smith, yes, yes, yes! Yes, I will marry you."
Neither one seemed to know what to do next. Smith glanced at Geovanni and he thought he saw a tear on the old man's cheek. Smith stood and took Emily's hand in his. He looked her in the eye and she nodded as he slipped the ring over her finger. He leaned in close and kissed her long and slow. He stepped back and reached out his hand, "Can I have this dance?"
"Oh, Smith." Emily seemed incapable of any other words. "Of course. It is our song after all."
They danced their hearts out as they listened to Geovanni sing along with the strains of his viola.
On this lovely bella notte
Side by side with your loved one
You'll find enchantment here
The night will weave its magic spell
When the one you love is near
Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right
On this lovely bella notte