The day of the wedding is, unsurprisingly, stifling hot.
Waves of heat roll off the ground as Anse, Luciano and Daniel make their way through the lush gardens towards the large field of wildflowers where groundskeepers have erected the ceremonial arch. Pete waits at the end of the aisle dressed in a crisp white shirt and the same dark trousers both Anse and Daniel wear.
‘You made it,’ Pete breathes, clearly relieved. ‘I was worried you were lost.’
‘We got a map from reception,’ Luciano says helpfully, flashing the brochure.
‘Where’s Mum?’ Daniel asks, looking around.
‘Around the corner,’ Pete says. ‘She’s waiting for you there.’
Luciano walks down the short aisle and takes a seat near the large metal wedding arch. Jasmine blooms around the base of the frame, it’s sweet scent almost overwhelming as Anse takes his place beside his stepfather. The celebrant smooths down his shirt and gives them a kind smile as they all wait.
There’s no music. In the distance, Anse can hear a waterfall. Closer, there’s birdsong, the buzz of honeybees going from flower-to-flower, and the sound of Luciano’s shoulder popping as he stretches his arms.
‘Sorry,’ he says, laughing slightly. ‘Too much time hunched over the stove.’
Anse leans forward and digs his fingers into the pressure points of Luciano’s shoulder, massaging it slightly while they wait for Gisela and Daniel to approach the aisle.
‘Are you two going down to the coast, tomorrow?’ Pete asks.
Anse nods. ‘Have your plans changed?’
Pete shakes his head. ‘We’ve found a hotel room. We wanted to stay out of Ellie and Daniel’s hair. At least in the mornings. When you have a baby, the last thing you need are your in laws around all the time.’
‘I’m sure they appreciate you being there,’ Anse says.
He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look down the aisle. Daniel rounds the corner with his mother on his arm. Gisela looks beautiful in a long white 1920s-inspired gown with scalloped cap sleeves and delicate beading down the length of the dress. There’s a small comb in her white hair, keeping her loose up-do together.
Luciano stands next to him as Gisela and Daniel make their way down the rose petal-lined aisle. Beside him, Pete smiles at Gisela, tears filling his eyes. Emotion suddenly overwhelms Anse—or maybe it’s heatstroke, there’s really no way to tell—as Gisela meets her husband underneath the arch of blooming jasmine. He clears his throat and takes a seat beside Luciano as the ceremony starts.
Luciano takes his hand and squeezes. As Anse turns his attention back to his mother and stepfather, it’s not hard to picture him standing under a very similar arch, in a very similar suit, sometime very soon.
* * *
The restaurant at the Botanic Gardens is busy, but they’ve booked a private room for the reception, and it’s decorated with beautiful native flowers and candles and boasts a stunning vista of the lower levels of the garden.
It’s an à la carte dining experience—five courses delivered to them every twenty minutes with their drink top-ups just as generous. The food’s delicious, and the wine is excellent. Very quickly, Anse feels the artisanal small portions and the generous amount of wine go to his head.
‘So,’ Pete says between the third and fourth course. ‘Do you think this,’ he waves his hand around, ‘is on the cards for you two?’
Luciano looks at him, questioning, and God if Anse just doesn’t feel his heart crumble under those big, curious eyes.
‘Likely,’ Anse replies. ‘We’ve spoken about it.’
‘So, you’re happy here?’ Gisela asks, straight to the point. ‘There’s no desire to go back to Austria?’
Luciano shrugs. ‘Well, you know, maybe one day. I might like to experience living overseas. When the restaurant’s more established.’
‘Really?’ Anse asks. It’s news to him. Not that he wants to go back to Austria—he hasn’t for a while now—but he’s not adverse to it. He still has his father’s townhouse there, but now it’s rented to tenants.
‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it more and more. You know, Austria isn’t that far from Italy. We could visit when I go to film the TV show. Maybe stay a bit longer.’
‘Well, with our grandchild, we’ll be back a lot more often,’ says Gisela. ‘Who knows, I may even take inspiration from my sons and consider a transfer to an Australian university.’
Luciano threads his fingers through Anse’s under the table and rests his head on his shoulder. It’s late, close to ten, and it’s been a big day. Long week. Huge month. Tomorrow, they’ll get up and make the trip down to the coast.
Dessert comes, along with a serve of port, and by the time they’ve finished, and the conversation has run its course, the clock edges close to midnight. Anse orders them a cab as Luciano does his best not to fall asleep on his shoulder. Pete and Gisela continue into the city, keen to drink on at a whiskey bar and find their own way home.
At home, he practically carries Luciano up the stairs and into bed. He pulls off Luciano’s grass-stained oxfords and unbuttons his shirt. Luciano kicks off his pants and falls onto the mattress, flushed and tired and quite drunk, glowing in the warm light of their bedside lamp.
Anse thinks it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. He takes a photo for good measure.
Luciano mutters, ‘You jus’ take photo of me?’
‘Not at all,’ Anse says as he puts the phone on his bedside, sets the alarm, and then turns off the light.
‘Liar.’ A pause. ‘Anse?’
‘Hmm?’
He hears Luciano turn to him, feels the shift of the mattress, smells the alcohol on his warm breath.
‘Don’t let me get thi’ drunk on our wedding night,’ he slurs.
Anse laughs. ‘Okay.’
‘Promis’ me.’
He runs a hand over Luciano’s forehead, smoothing over his wild curls. ‘I promise.’