Sitting in church the following morning, with Carla by his side, Mac was thinking about the President, and the weight he carried on that cane chair of his. Through the Gospel, Mac prayed to God that Roosevelt would remain strong, and that he would be granted the divine wisdom to guide America through the perilous morass of the dangerous seas that lay ahead. Carla, sensing Mac deep in prayer, took hold of his hand, smiling at him through the homily. By the time the organ began to bellow again, signifying the commencement of the offertory hymn, Mac was back, smiling at his beautiful young Carla.
“Mac, all I can think about is us up there at that beautiful altar, me in my white dress, you in your dress whites,” whispered Carla, “promising ourselves to each other.”
Mac squeezed Carla's hand, and leaned down, kissing the dark tresses cascading down to her shoulders. As they kneeled for the Consecration of the Host, Mac put his hand on Carla's her bottom.
“Mac! In Church? Beast!” she laughed softly, as did the old gentleman kneeling in the pew behind them.
Carla slid down the pew a bit to thwart Mac's licentious efforts.
“It is Italy, kitten,” he whispered, “and we are engaged,” he continued with a silent laugh.
“Mac, not in church, for God's sake!” whispered Carla, punching him in the arm.
“See, give the girl the ring, and it all ends right then and there.”
“Very funny, Mac,” whispered Carla, as she reached over and pinched him between his legs.
“Eeeiiii!” whimpered Mac, as he jumped further away from his petulant future bride, learning a valuable lesson.
She may be young, but she is not afraid of anything. God, I love this girl!
After church, the young couple went for a walk in the Villa Borghese, stopping by the Tempio di Esculapio, the temple at the side of the Laghetto di Villa Borghese, the lake in the children's park, to sit and watch the children play. Mac held Carla's hand as she told him of her dreams, of the children they would have, and of the home she would keep for all of them. He smiled at her youthful exuberance, while at the same time he felt concern over what this war would bring to their relationship.
I must get her away from here, if things become bad, he said to himself, as she continued to chatter away. I had promised her brother, and I had promised her father, but most of all, I had promised myself that I would always take care of her. But, what of Alberto and Teresa, and the DeFelices up in Palombara? What will become of them? Mac stressed silently, as Carla started to shake him.
“Are you listening to me, Mac? Oh boy, we are not even married yet, and you are tuning me out already.”
“No, no, Carla. I am just worried about the war, sweetheart. I worry about you, and your family. I promised Alberto I would get you out of here if the worst comes.”
“Get me out of here? Where would I go? I live here, with you, Mac! Once we are married, anyway.”
“Yes, Carla, we will always be together, but I just worry, that's all. I cannot wait until we are married. Then I can tell you what to do!” laughed Mac.
“Yeah, right! You are going to tell me what to do? No, I tell you what to do,” laughed the young girl.
“I am sure you will try, but that is part of your charm. I love your feistiness. I thought you were going to bop that Gestapo yesterday on his bean. What would have happened if I had not held you back?”
“No question, I would have wrestled his gun away from him, and shot him dead. You don’t mess with my man, or with our love!”
“Oh my God, I believe you would, Carla! You are something else. I hope you never get mad at me.”
“That is not a problem, just don’t give me any reason to get mad, Mac. We DeFelices are tough birds; you better know that before you marry me. But now that I have your ring, you are going to marry me! If you run, I will chase you down like the dog that you are!” laughed Carla.
“Madonna, what have I gotten myself into. It is a good thing I cannot live without you,” he continued, as Carla hugged his arm closer to her, with a big, impish smile on her face.
“I love you, Mac. You know I could never hurt you in any way!”
“I could never hurt you either, Carla. I love you, too!”
The young couple walked back to Carla's house for Sunday dinner, and more dinner table talk about the upcoming wedding festivities. Teresa had seen to the church already, and Carla's mom, was working on the Castello Savelli, arranging for tables, and servers, and the food. The invitations would go out this week, as there were only three months until October 25th, the blessed day of their union. Mac said he would tell the Pontiff this week that he had made up his mind, and then, he would invite him to their wedding.
Alberto had already started treating Mac as a brother, inviting him into his den after dinner for a smoke, and an anisette. The two men had much to discuss about the affairs of the world, and the coming of the fire and smoke.
“Alberto, if this thing happens, I want you to get out of here. I will get you out, through the Vatican, if need be. You know the Allies are going to look to bring down the fascists. You are in a very bad position, my brother. They will imprison you, or worse. Please, let's make plans in case of the worst.”
“I appreciate your concern, Mac, and I have been thinking about getting Teresa away if things blow up, at least back to Palombara. I think it will be safe there, for the women, anyway.”
“Alberto, if something goes wrong, and I am not here, just go to the Vatican, and see Father Leiber. He will know what to do. You could sleep on the couch in my office if need be. Although, that is where I might be, as well, with Carla,” laughed Mac. “One big, happy family.”
“Let's not talk about that, Mac. Here, have a nice cigar. I should get rid of them, anyway.”
“Tomorrow, I will talk to Father Leiber. I will tell him that I am engaged to marry Carla, I will invite him to the wedding, and I will tell him to watch out for you and Teresa, if I am not able to do it myself.”
“Mac don’t be maudlin, for Christ's sake. You will be around. You better be. Here, have another anisette; it is good for you! It will put hair on your chest.”
“What do you think about Carla working at the Inn, Alberto? I want her to leave the job now, or certainly when we get married, particularly with everything that is going on.”
“Oh, good luck with that. That sister of mine, she has a will of her own. You tell her to leave, she will stay to spite you. Carla!” yelled Alberto; “Get over here. Your future husband has something to tell you.”
“Nice, thanks a lot, brother,” laughed Mac, as Carla walked into the room, followed by Teresa.
“What is it, Mac?”
“We were just talking about what you would be doing after we get married, whether you would like to work, or not. It is entirely up to you, of course, but I just wanted you to know that whatever you decide, I would support your decision.”
“Oh, is that all? I already told Mrs. Beaumonti that I would be giving notice, and that she should look for another waitress, and telephone operator. I am going to be living with you, Mac. You make enough money for both of us,” laughed Carla. “Besides, I want to start a family as soon as we can. You are older, you know! Now, let us finish the dishes, while you men continue to sit on your derrieres, solving the problems of the world.”
“Well played,” laughed Alberto, after the women left the room. “You are a true diplomat.”
“It's called finesse, Alberto. But she had already made the decision anyway. She is a handful, isn’t she?”
“I gave you fair warning, old boy. Now, she is your handful.”
“Alberto, I want you to be my best man. You are the closest thing I have to a brother, and I would be honored if you would stand beside me.”
“Thank you, Mac, of course. It is I who is honored. And besides, someone must be up there with you to make sure you do not screw it up.”
“Very funny, Alberto.”
The two men continued to talk war, and women, while they sipped their aperitifs. Carla came in to pull Mac away from her brother, telling them both that they have work in the morning. She walked Mac to the front door, and she gave him a loving kiss.
“Mac, I want to be with you every night. I cannot stop thinking about yesterday.”
“Me too, Carla. I want you so badly right now! And I must go home? Soon, though, you will be coming home with me,” said Mac, as he hugged his future bride. “Soon, my love!”
“Will I see you tomorrow, Mac?”
“Of course, kitten. I will come by for dinner. I must go to the Vatican tomorrow. I want to tell the Pope that I have made my decision, and I have a meeting with Father Leiber, and another gentleman from Germany. By the way, I have to go to Sicily for a few days soon, maybe next week. I must meet with some people there, and get the lay of the land, so to speak.”
“Mac do not push it, please. You are going to be a married man. And who knows, maybe even a papa,” she teased. “Be careful, Mac.”