Philadelphia, Saturday, October 28, 7:25 P.M.
He’s having a good time,” Tess said, a catch in her voice.
Michael Ciccotelli was dancing with his wife, who for once wasn’t telling him not to overdo it. Tess’s wedding day was a day to be overdone, everyone living it as if it might be the last time the Ciccotelli family gathered together. It was bittersweet, but Tess had come to peace with her father’s condition even as they all hoped for a donor.
Aidan stood behind her, his arms around her waist, his feet completely covered by the six-foot train of her grandmother’s satin gown. “Yes, he is. Are you?”
She shivered as he brushed kisses against her bare neck. “It’s getting better.”
“I can guarantee it will get better tomorrow.” They’d rejected a cruise as too “Phillip” and a European vacation as too “Shelley” for their honeymoon, opting to spend a week at the Jersey shore. Then they’d return to Chicago for a party at the Lemon with all their friends, although most of them were right here with them now. Aidan’s family was here, Rachel and Kristen as bridesmaids. Abe was his best man and even Murphy had agreed to don a tux as an usher. Vito looked right at home in his tux, and at the moment was trying to fend off a determined young woman. As Tess always said, all the girls flirted with Vito.
At Vito’s side was his friend Leon who had been released months before after DNA testing proved he had not raped Amy Miller. With Tess’s testimony and Amy’s mental illness, Leon’s entire conviction had been overturned. It was good to see justice prevail.
Jack and Julia were here, as were Robin and Jon and Patrick and Flo Ernst and Ethel Hughes, and even Lynne Pope who planned to show a clip of the wedding on Chicago On The Town. Closure, she’d said. Which of course it was.
The rest of the hall was filled with more Ciccotellis than Aidan could count. Right now Michael Ciccotelli was approaching, his face a picture of paternal pride. “It’s my father-daughter dance, Tessa. You’ll have to let her go, Reagan.”
Aidan obliged and noticed he wasn’t the only one wiping his eyes when Michael swept his daughter onto the dance floor. They made a beautiful pair. When the DJ had played the final strains, Tess leaned over and whispered in her father’s ear. Michael delivered her back to Aidan, his smile gone wry. “You’ll take care of her,” he said.
Tess rolled her eyes. “She can take care of herself.”
Ignoring her, Aidan said, “With my life,” which seemed to please his new father-in-law. Michael walked to his wife and sat in a chair before she nagged him to. “What did you tell him out there?”
“That he has to stick around for the next family function. No checking out allowed.”
Aidan narrowed his eyes. “And what might that family function be?”
“A christening.”
His narrowed eyes popped wide. “Tess?”
She laughed. “No, I’m not. But I intend to be very soon. I know this cop, see, whose therapy couch could be used for something far more exciting than therapy.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. And I’m told his fees are moderate.”
“Downright cheap.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Aidan kissed her soundly, drawing hoots from everyone close enough to see. “I’m not waiting for anything anymore. I have it all right here.”