Chapter Eight

Full of renewed vigor, Remy left Madrid early the next morning, but not before extracting a promise from Maggie that she would visit soon. Though Maggie was disappointed that they couldn’t spend a few days relaxing in the city, she had understood Remy’s urgent need to return to the village and get started on the improvements as soon as possible.

Remy hummed with excited energy, clutching the architecture drawings in her lap on the way home, as though they would disappear at any moment. She felt as though she literally held her future in her hands, and she was not about to let it blow away out the open window. I’m in control, she reminded herself. I can do this. Part of being able to do it was knowing when to ask for help, and she was on her way to meet with a renowned architect in Coruña. But first, Remy couldn’t help stopping by the village, just to see if it had missed her during her absence.

Remy parked at the top of the drive and stared down at the quiet buildings. She stepped out of the driver’s seat, frowning as she felt her muscles tense in anticipation. Why am I so high strung? It was a confusing contrast amid her tranquil surroundings. Remy slammed the car door shut, locking it with a beep, and took a step forward.

Quick as a blink, her village went from being completely empty to swarming with people. They were coming out of buildings, chatting in the streets, children and chickens running around underfoot. Remy screamed in shock, and heads turned to stare. Still, there was enough general din that her outburst didn’t attract as much attention as Remy feared as she prepared to hop back into her car.

The car was gone. Remy stared in confusion at the keys she held ready in her hand, to the empty space, and back again to the keys. Wild-eyed, she turned back to the crowd, some of whom were still studying her curiously.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. “¡Qué mierda!” she shouted. Wait, that wasn’t “what the fuck.” Remy swallowed hard, and her legs gave out from underneath her. People she didn’t recognize filled a space that was supposed to be solely hers. Well, hers and Bieito’s family’s, if only on occasion. But this—this was too much.

Taking shallow breaths, Remy wondered how on earth she was going to kick this many people off her property. It looked like they were some sort of weird Renaissance freaks. No, not Renaissance, exactly. Pilgrims? Whatever group they were in, they apparently liked to dress up in crazy costumes and trespass onto abandoned villages. Well, that just wasn’t going to fly with Remy. Before Remy could stand to confront the unwelcome guests, a familiar face was striding over to her.

“Señora Remy! There you are.” Lino beamed at her. “What are you doing on the ground? My brother will be so pleased you have returned. He has been searching everywhere for you. I told him not to worry, you had promised to attend my wedding, and here you are!”

“Your wedding?” Remy asked, dazed. “You’re having the wedding here?” Nobody asked my opinion about it!

“Come,” Lino ordered, extending his hand down to her. “You must meet my beautiful bride.”

What else could she do? Remy took Lino’s hand and he hauled her up. “Then we shall track down that infernal brother of mine so he can stop moping about on this joyous occasion!”

Lino’s exuberance was so endearing that Remy felt her anger and frustration slipping away, replaced by that same sense of calm and contentment she had felt while in their cottage. Maybe it wasn’t just the wine, she conceded, as logic and reason seemed determined to slip out of her brain. Instead, she focused on the infectious excitement all around her as everyone busied themselves with wedding day tasks.

A new archway stood in the center of town square, woven with bright wildflowers. Two women holding more flowers in woven baskets worked together, adding to the riot of color. A gaggle of children ran laps around and through the arch until the women shooed them off to make mischief elsewhere. Men tipped their hats at Remy as they hauled barrels of wine up from cellars and through the streets. The smell of freshly baked bread poured out with the hot air from the bakery’s open door. Tables were being loaded with cured meats, cheeses, and fresh fruit in a never-ending stream of platters carefully carried out from the houses. A young man stopped Lino and handed him an overflowing glass of sweet purple liquid. “For the groom!” he shouted.

“I cannot, I fear,” Lino said. “But soon. I am on my way to find my bride. And my brother. Have you seen either?”

“Ay,” the man said, and pointed to the main house. “Your lovely María is with her mother, getting ready for the ceremony.” He then shook his head with a warning. “Wouldn’t try to go in there if I were you. Anyone who tries to peek is thrown out!”

Just then a group of gossiping young women filed outside, dressed in their wedding finery. Remy had never seen the style of dress they wore. Maybe Lino and María are doing a themed wedding, almost like the Renaissance wedding Jack and I went to upstate. It had been for an eclectic friend of theirs, and Jack had moaned the whole time about having to wear a ‘costume’. Remy hadn’t minded; it was sweet and seemed like a fun way to celebrate, but most of the other guests had done the bare minimum to fit the theme. Here, however, it looked like everyone had gone all out.

Each woman wore a different color, swallowed in lace and satin up to their chins, their hair pulled back with intricate braids and curls. They all shared the same high cheekbones and thick eyebrows, and when they smiled as they talked over one another, it was easy to see that they were all related by blood.

One of the women spotted him. “Lino! Shoo! You are not supposed to be waiting about here. María will see you.”

Lino settled his face into a mask of innocence. “I was delivering Remy to my brother. Have you seen him?”

The girls lapsed into silence as they took in Remy’s ragtag appearance, sticking out like a sore thumb amid the theme of the wedding. One of the older women, an auntie, maybe, remembered her manners and hurried forward to kiss Remy on both cheeks. “Welcome, my dear! We are thrilled that you’re here. María told us you might be coming. We adore our dear Bieito and have been looking forward to meeting you. Come, come inside, please. Bieito left a gift in my care for you, if you were able celebrate with us.”

The women engulfed Remy in a sea of fabric and herded her toward the house. One of the most beautiful women Remy had ever seen sat serenely on a settee inside, while an elderly woman fussed and prodded her fiery red hair to lay flat underneath a gauzy veil. The bride looked to be in her late teens, but with the poise of a much more mature woman. Her creamy complexion set off the white of her dress, and instead of making her look pale and washed out, she simply glowed like an angel. María radiated pure happiness and contentment, and Remy could only stare at her in awe.

While everyone else fussed about, clucking like chickens, the bride looked to be at peace. This is a woman who knows she’s making the right choice, Remy thought. Had she looked like that on her wedding day to Jack? She doubted it. Remy remembered being so nervous she had to vomit, and the entire walk down the aisle she was afraid Jack was going to change his mind. Forever seemed like such a long time. How did someone know for certain that they wanted to be with someone until the end of their days? Had some part of Remy known, even way back then, that their marriage was doomed from the start? Would she have done anything differently, or gone through with the ceremony just the same? If I had wished back then for a happily ever after, could I have prevented all of our heartache? Would my happily-ever-after even include Jack in the first place? Remy shook the dark cloud of contemplation and regret away. This was María’s big day, and not the time to reflect on her own failures.

María’s serene face lit up once she realized who Remy was, and she crossed the room to wave away the relatives still encircling the new guest. “You came!” she said, and embraced Remy like a sister. Dumbstruck, Remy tried to delicately return the favor, aware of her travel-weary condition and more than a little thankful she had at least borrowed one of Maggie’s conservative sundresses to drive home in earlier that day.

“Bieito has talked much of the American girl who has stolen his heart,” the bride gushed.

“Stolen his heart?” Remy asked, skeptical.

María laughed. “Well, not in so many words. You know how he is.” Linking her elbow through Remy’s, the pair walked back over to the couch. “Sit, sit. My Aunt Rose has gone to fetch something of yours for today.”

“Congratulations, by the way. Lino is a very lucky man. You are simply lovely.”

Red flush graced the bride’s face, and her eyes lit up. “He is the love of my life,” she said, stating a simple fact. “How fortunate I am that he loves me the way I love him! And today we will share our love in front of the world.”

“It was very kind of Lino to invite me,” Remy said, feeling a bit awkward to be in the middle of such a life-altering day when she barely knew the bride. “Are you sure it is okay that I’m here? I don’t mean to intrude. I’m not even really sure how I got in here. I know you’re busy getting ready for the ceremony—”

María held up her hand, cutting Remy off. “Of course, you are not intruding. You must understand, I love my Lino, but I also love his family as well. Sweet Bieito—he has been alone for so long. You cannot imagine how my heart sang to hear that he wanted you to be present for today. I care for him like my own brother, and I worry for him. He is happy for me and Lino, I know he is, but I also know that a part of him yearns to find the same, though he will never admit it. Now with you here, I will be able to watch him dancing and laughing as Lino and I do the same. There will be no melancholy on my wedding day. You have brought the sunshine with you, and I am excited to see the shadow lift over Bieito when he sees that you are here.”

Um, whoa. That’s a lot of pressure.

“If you still need convincing, then look no further than the dress that Bieito bought you.”

“What dress?” Remy asked, and turned around to see where María pointed.

Aunt Rose had returned, holding a rich red bundle of fabric in her arms. She smiled at Remy and held it out to her. “Bieito thought that you might need it.”

Remy reached out with trembling fingers. She had owned many gorgeous dresses over the years—gala dresses, charity dresses, auction dresses, and one very fine wedding dress—but hadn’t worn any since the fateful night she had hopped on a plane to Spain. The dress she arrived in last month and the gift in front of her were the exact same vibrant shade.

“Oh,” Remy gasped. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” She turned to María with troubled eyes. “Why would he do something like this? This dress must have cost a fortune!”

“He wanted to give you something special, something that you would never forget,” María said, taking the dress from Aunt Rose carefully and shaking it out. She held it up to Remy’s front. “An almost perfect fit, I think. You two will make a fine couple tonight.”

Her first instinct was to refuse the gift. It felt like too much too fast, and another part of her was reminded of Jack, and his lavish gifts while they were dating. But at the same time, the dress felt like it held a different meaning. Whereas Jack had thrown money around to woo her, Remy was sure that for Bieito to afford a dress like that, he must have worked hours and hours, scrimping and saving just to do something nice. It was much more than a gift, and Remy didn’t want to let Bieito, or any of his family, down today.

It felt right to be here with these people, who welcomed her into their hearts without a moment’s hesitation. Her village felt whole and complete with everyone here, and Remy didn’t want to dwell on what it felt like to be alone in an echoing reminder of a time gone by. What were the downsides of “just going with it,” as Anita would say?

The thought of her friend stung, and Remy quickly retreated to her happy place in the present. She took the dress from the bride as though it were made of glass, and asked, “Where can I change?”

María pointed upstairs, to a place in the main house that Remy hadn’t explored on her property yet. “My cousin, Isabella, will assist you.” María looked around until she spotted a woman who looked to be about Remy’s age. “Please help my guest into her dress for the evening, dear cousin.”

“But I was going to finish my hair—” Isabella protested, but María shot her an expectant stare, effectively reminding her who this day was really about. Although, Remy felt like it was gradually turning into her day and felt uncomfortable with all the unnecessary attention. Escaping upstairs for a while sounded like a great plan to her.

Isabella inclined her head at the bride. “I apologize. Of course, I will help. Please let me know if you need anything else in the meantime.” She turned and marched past Remy. Halfway up the stairs, she turned to where Remy had remained frozen at the bottom and asked, “Are you coming?”

Putting aside the fear that the second floor might collapse, Remy scurried up behind María’s cousin and Isabella motioned her into a nearby bedroom. “This is my family’s house, you know,” she said, as they both entered the lavishly decorated room.

“It is lovely. I’ve been wanting to see the upstairs for some time,” Remy said, trying to smooth over whatever animosity Isabella seemed to have toward her.

“What a strange thing to say,” Isabella said. “Is it customary in America for visitors to want to snoop around the house of their host?”

“What? No! I just meant—”

“You should take off those…clothes.” Isabella sniffed with disdain at Remy’s sundress. “It is not appropriate for a wedding. Though why Bieito would go through all this trouble—”

All right, I’ve had enough. Remy took a deep breath and stood up tall. “Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Just what the hell kind of problem do you have with me?”

Isabella went pale at her words, but whether it was the tone or the directness that caught her off guard, Remy didn’t know. It only took Isabella a few seconds to get her feet back underneath her, though. She turned red, and stared Remy down with fearful intensity. With clenched fists she said, “You Americans think you can have everything. But you can’t. I won’t let you. I’ve been waiting a long time—”

“Listen,” Remy said. “I don’t know what you have against me, but I don’t think the bride needs this right now.” She turned her back on the other woman and started undressing. Whatever grudge Isabella apparently had against her, she really didn’t care. Remy had dealt with mean girls all her life, and the best way to handle it was to make them see that they couldn’t ruffle her, especially because she wasn’t an insecure teenager anymore. Remy rolled her eyes at the thought of how much it used to matter that she didn’t fit in. That was one of the best things that came with passing thirty-five—the complete inability to give a shit about petty people.

Isabella, however, had apparently not learned that lesson yet. “Yes, it is all about my precious and beautiful cousin,” she spat. “Her first marriage. May it last forever. One could be so lucky.”

Still turned away, Remy heard Isabella stomp out of the room and slam the door behind her. Whoa, that lady has some issues. There was obviously jealousy, but it had to be more than that. First marriage, Remy thought. What had happened to Isabella to make her so bitter? Remy’s marriage hadn’t worked out, but that didn’t mean she went around stomping on other people’s happiness. Was Isabella upset that Remy had swooped in and caught the eye of the town’s handsome bachelor?

Focusing on the task at hand, she fingered the soft fabric before pulling the full skirt over her head. Yes, this would definitely be easier if I had help. After twisting and turning and a couple of false starts, Remy finally secured the dress around the correct limbs, then struggled to catch her breath. All of the layers were exhausting and cumbersome, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, it was obvious that it was worth it.

The dress Bieito had chosen looked like it was pulled out of the past. The neck scooped delicately around her collar bone and into the short sleeves that draped off her shoulders. The waist was cinched in, but Remy could still breathe after tightening it up by herself, which had required a certain amount of skeletal contortion. A thick, full skirt blossomed from her waist and fell to the floor, just skimming her feet. It wasn’t a dress that screamed, “Look at me!” It was a dress that pulled eyes from across the room, with a subtlety that suggested, “Look at the beautiful person wearing the dress.”

Bieito had chosen a dress that showed off Remy for who she was, and not what she looked like. Just as she was thinking about him, she walked over to the window and looked outside, and there he stood. Remy’s heart leaped in her chest and she suppressed the urge to shout down at him. He waited in the middle of the street, with the same lost, yearning look he had when he stared out at the ocean. He was as removed from the festivities as Remy herself had felt, an observer but not a participant. Other people floated around him, but he remained immobile.

He’s waiting for me! Remy thought, and ran for the door. She pulled on the handle only to find that the door wouldn’t budge. She tried pushing it. Nothing. With both hands, Remy grabbed the stiff handle and gave it a shake with all her might.

“That bitch locked me in.” The realization that a grown woman could be so petty and immature flared Remy’s anger. “Seriously?” she yelled, hoping someone downstairs could hear her. There were no footsteps in the hallway to bring her hope. Was she stuck until someone remembered she existed and came to find her?

She ran back over to the window, and of course Isabella was now outside talking to Bieito. The other woman flirtatiously fingered the necklace she wore while attempting to get his attention, but Remy could see that he was distracted. Good, she thought, and smirked.

Having had just about enough of all the drama she could stand for the day, Remy rapped sharply on the window. When that didn’t garner a response from either Bieito or Isabella down below, Remy turned her fist and started banging. “Hey!” she yelled.

That worked. Bieito turned around in confusion, before finally looking up. Remy stopped banging and gave him a wave and a smile. Bieito waved back hesitatingly, as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing. Remy pointed to her dress and then gave him a thumbs up. Could I be more awkward? she thought, and rolled her eyes. “Oh wait, not you!” she tried to explain, as Bieito’s face fell. She motioned for him to come into the house, and as he started to move forward, Isabella blocked him.

“Remy?” María called through the closed door. “Are you still in there?”

“I’m here! The door is stuck.”

“Isabella said you’d already snuck out to go and find my brother-in-law, but when I saw her outside—”

“Can you get the door open?” She gritted her teeth for her next lie. “I guess I accidentally locked myself in once I told Isabella I was fine to finish getting ready on my own.”

Remy heard a click and then a creak. “Oh, you look stunning!” María said.

“Nothing compared to the bride,” Remy said, smiling at her new friend’s radiance. “But, I have to go.”

“I’m sorry, Remy,” María confessed. “I shouldn’t have sent you up here with her. I thought that she was past all this, but I guess not. You’ll have to excuse my cousin. She’s been through a lot this past year, with the death of her husband.”

Oh. That explains a lot. “I won’t think twice about it,” Remy promised. She gave a twirl on top of the landing. “Everything in place?” she asked.

“Bieito will think you’re a dream.”

Remy decided to take it as a compliment, but, having had difficulty distinguishing between dreams and reality of late, she didn’t know if being someone’s dream was a good thing.

“Now go!” María laughed at her. Remy didn’t need to be told twice.

When Remy got down to the street, Bieito was still trying to politely extract himself from the conversation with Isabella. “…If you’ll excuse me, I really must—” he was saying.

“If I could just get your help with one thing—” Isabella interrupted him.

Bieito inhaled sharply when his eyes landed on Remy. “Remy,” he said, almost as a sigh. And just like that, Remy and Bieito were the only two people in the world. Everything else faded away as Remy saw herself through his eyes. Any worries she had about not being welcome at the wedding disappeared, because she just fit right here—wherever “here” really was—with him.

Isabella must have seen herself off, because Remy couldn’t remember her leaving. She could barely remember her own name. In more clothing than she had ever worn, she had never felt more naked in her life. Remy swallowed before she spoke. “Thank you for the dress. You really didn’t have to…”

“You came,” he said, direct as ever. “I was worried that you wouldn’t.”

“Then why did you buy me this dress?”

“Because I hoped you would.” He cleared his throat. “I tried to find you the past couple of days, to apologize for my family’s brash behavior at dinner. I may have had too much to drink; my memories are confused. I feared you had left…”

“Not by choice,” Remy mumbled, before she spoke up and said, “I’m just happy I found my way back here in time.” “Found” being the operative word. How do I keep getting back here? she asked herself, but her brain felt like it was fighting her from questioning it too closely. More importantly, can I control when I leave? Trying to ask that question almost made Remy black out. She shook her head to clear her vision and focused on the man in front of her.

What did it matter, if she was here now? She held out her hand as an invitation, and Bieito took it, flipping her palm upward. He bent down to kiss the inside of her wrist, a gentle, even chaste touch that sent tremors through Remy’s body. It felt strangely intimate out in the middle of the street where anyone could see.

Bieito straightened up. “Forgive me,” he said, but the twinkle in his eye showed that he was anything but remorseful. “I’ve been waiting to do that since…well, I met you.” Seeing that Remy had accepted both his gift and invitation had emboldened Bieito, and Remy could see his flirtatious side starting to emerge. This wedding is about to get really interesting.