"My parents used this upheaval as an opportunity to get out from under their parents' thumbs. My mother left Mount Holyoke, where she was studying art, and my father left Yale, where he was meant to study law, although the only thing he had ever wanted to do was carpentry and woodworking; they married and moved to New York City. My father's family disowned him, because he had joined the Communist party; my mother's family disowned her, because she had married my father.
"They found themselves very broke and living in a Greenwich Village garret. My mother was doing charcoal drawings of tourists in Washington Square for fifty cents a shot, and my father was carrying his toolbox door to door, doing whatever handyman's work he could find, for whatever people would pay him. He was about to go off and join the Civilian Conservation Corps, just to stay alive, when a wonderful thing happened.
"My mother's aunt-her mother's sister-and her new husband bought a house in Turtle Bay, and my aunt hired my father to build her husband a library. That job saved their lives, and when it was done, Aunt Mildred and her husband were so pleased with it that they also comissioned my father to design furniture for the house and my mother to paint pictures for some of the rooms. When their friends saw the house, they immediately began offering him other commissions, and before too many years had passed, both my parents had won reputations for their work. I didn't come along for quite a long time, but by the time that accident had occurred, they could afford me."
Dolce started to speak, but Stone stilled her with a raised hand.
"There's more. Many years later, when Aunt Matilda died, having been preceded by her husband, she left the house to me. I was still a cop then, working with your brother-in-law, and I poured what savings I had into renovating the house, doing a great deal of the work myself, using skills learned in my father's shop. Finally, after leaving the NYPD-by popular request-I was able to earn a good enough living as a lawyer to finish the house. So, you see, the house is not only a part of my family history, it is all I have left of my parents and the work they devoted their lives to. I have no intention of moving out of it, ever. I hope you understand, Dolce."
Nobody moved. Stone and Dolce stared expressionlessly at each other for a very long moment, then Dolce smiled and kissed him. "I understand," she said, "and I won't bring it up again. I'll be proud to live in your house."
"I'll be happy to explain things to Eduardo," Stone said.
"That won't be necessary," Dolce replied. "I'll explain it to him, and, I promise, he'll understand completely."
"Thank you, my dear," Stone said.
"So," Mary Ann said, changing the subject, "what's the plan for Venice?"
"We'll go directly from the airport to Papa's house," Dolce said. "We'll have dinner with him tonight; tomorrow,
Saturday, the civil ceremony will be held at the town hall, where we'll be married by the mayor of Venice. Then, on Monday morning, a friend of Papa's from the Vatican, a cardinal, will marry us at St. Mark's, on the square of the same name. After that, Stone and I will go on a honeymoon, the itinerary of which I've kept secret even from him, and the rest of you can go to hell."
"Sounds good," Mary Ann said.
"Who's the cardinal?" Dino asked.
"Bellini," Dolce replied.
"Doesn't he run the Vatican bank?"
"Yes, he does."
"How like Eduardo," Dino said, "to have his daughter married by a priest, a prince of the Church, and an international banker, all wrapped up in one."
"Why two ceremonies?" Stone asked.
Mary Ann spoke up. "To nail you, coming and going," she said, laughing, "so you can never be free of her. The two marriages are codependent; the civil ceremony won't be official until the religious ceremony has taken place, and the priest-pardon me, the cardinal- has signed the marriage certificate."
"It's the Italian equivalent of a royal wedding," Dino said. "It's done these days only for the very important, and, as we all know, Eduardo…" He trailed off when he caught Stone's look.
"Eat your eggs, Dino," Mary Ann sighed.
Chapter 3
The gleaming mahogany motor launch, the Venetian equivalent of a limousine, glided up the Grand Canal in the bright, spring sunshine. Stone looked about him, trying to keep his mouth from dropping open. It was his first visit to the city. The four of them sat in a leather banquette at the stern of the boat, keeping quiet. Nothing they could say could burnish the glories of Venice.
The boat slowed and turned into a smaller canal, and shortly, came to a stop before a flight of stone steps, worn from centuries of footsteps. Two men dressed as gondoliers held the craft still with long boat hooks and helped the women ashore. As they reached the stone jetty, a pair of double doors ahead of them swung open, as if by magic, and Eduardo Bianchi came toward them, his arms outstretched, a smile on his handsome face. He embraced his daughters, shook hands fairly warmly with his son-in-law, then turned to Stone and placed both hands on his shoulders. "And my new son," he said, embracing him.
"Very nearly," Stone said. "It's good to see you, Eduardo, and it's very kind of you to arrange all this for us. Dolce and I are very grateful."
"Come into the house," Eduardo said, walking them toward the open doors. "You must be exhausted after your flight."
"Not really; it's hard to know how we could have been made more comfortable in the air," Stone said. "Once again, our gratitude."
Eduardo shrugged. "A friend insisted," he said. "Your luggage will be taken to your rooms. Would you like to freshen up, girls?"
The girls, dismissed, followed a maid down a hallway.