Page 72 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

‘Are you and Daddy going to get married when you’re better?’ Maddy wanted to know.

‘Of course,’ I answered. ‘It won’t be long now, sweetheart.’

‘And I still get to wear my new dress?’

‘Absolutely. And… you’ll look like a princess.’

She searched my gaze and when she found what she was looking for, gave a satisfied nod.

*

After three weeks of physiotherapy, I finally managed to get out of bed, ready to reschedule. I wasn’t 100% healed, but I could sure as hell walk down that damn aisle, once and for all. I’d have even crawled if Julian had asked me to. But he hadn’t.

‘Believe it or not, but a couple has cancelled their wedding and now there’s an opening with Padre Adolfo next Saturday, September 17th, close enough to our original date. Shall we book?’ I asked Julian as I slowly got dressed.

Julian’s face fell. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. I’m flying to Copenhagen that week.’

Ah. He’d wasted no time.

‘But I won’t be away longer than two weeks – and then we can reschedule, promise.’

Which meant October 1st. This was ludicrous. How many times would we have to do this? How many times did I have to move the pink square to accommodate all the blue ones that were making no effort to bugger off already? We were practically becoming a joke in town. Not even I believed we were going to go through with this farce of a wedding anymore. And now, without even telling me beforehand, he’d made plans to go away again. Was he trying to tell me something after all, and I was just too thick to get it?

‘Did… Sienna already book everything for you?’

Julian chuckled. ‘That woman has even my bathroom visits timed. She’s a real slave driver.’

‘Isn’t she,’ I replied, and suddenly I saw Julian and me on either end of a church aisle. Like in a psychedelic dream, the aisle stretched and stretched, while I tried to grab his outstretched hands as Julian grew further and further away from me, far, far away, into infinity – until I couldn’t see him anymore.

‘We hardly ever see you anymore,’ I whispered. ‘I miss you. The kids miss you. Sometimes I feel that you’re more interested in your career than us.’

‘I feel the same way about you and the B & B.’

‘But you knew I was going to run a B & B…’

‘And you knew I was going to write.’

‘And run the farm,’ I reminded him. ‘I know you’re busy, but can’t you find one day to get married? I don’t even care about a honeymoon anymore…’

He sighed. ‘You’re right. I’ve been selfish. This whole career thing has overwhelmed me. I wasn’t prepared for it to be a rollercoaster all over again. Perhaps it’s all turning out to be too much. The writing, the promoting, the farm. I can’t be in three places at once. And the farm itself is not just one task. There’s the horses, the crops, the orchards. I’m simply stretched too thin, Erica…’

‘I know. But you forgot to factor in time for us.’

‘Come on, Erica. Can you truly say you’ve been on the ball with me and the kids as well? Are you not obsessed with your business?’

‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘But only because I have to be. If I’m not, it all goes to pot.’

‘What does?’

‘My financial independence…’

‘But that’s the thing, Erica. We’re a family. My finances are yours. They’re ours.’

‘I understand that and really appreciate it. But I’ve worked all my life. I can’t not contribute. I have to do this for my own pride.’

‘And I have to write. For my own happiness.’

‘I understand that. I’m happy you’re doing what you love.’

---