“Kyrstyna,” Mira said, “is the only one I know who can get my computer to do this face-to-face trick. So we’re talking from Krys’s apartment, that we shared before I remarried. You remember it from your visit? It’s very warm in Las Vegas now, isn’t it? Not so much in Chicago.”
It was very warm on Skype with Temple about to invite Mira and her new husband and his brother and long-time wife to the wedding.
“What is so important that we have to Skype?” Mira asked.
“Matt and my wedding plans are on speed-drive all of a sudden,” Temple said. “Your new side of the family are invited, but it’s coming up fast. You’ll be flown in by the Crystal Phoenix, with luxury suites and the best wedding reception ever.”
“Am I a side of the family?” Krys stuck her face into camera range to ask.
Just the beefy one, Temple was tempted to answer.
Krys was all right. Not fat, but a “strapping” Polish girl who was hiding being twenty and awkward behind an aggressively hip look, and lots of lip. She’d had her heart set on cousin Matt since she turned teen. More so because he had been a priest then, which made him safely out of reach. Temple could understand, but not cater to, that.
Even nosy, possessive Krys didn’t know that Mira’s new-brother-in-law had been Matt’s father.
Temple wanted Matt’s unacknowledged father at their wedding in the worst way. This was not a duty call for Max, as she’d just done. This was trying to maneuver a secret duet from the heart, for his mother, Mira, and Matt to have a genuine entire “family” for one day, Temple’s wedding day, even if nobody knew it except the four of them.
Maybe it wasn’t strange that Matt had grown up wanting to be a priest. After all, his teenaged Polish mother and father from a privileged family had met at a Catholic church, lighting a candle to the Virgin Mary. Mira was a sensitive girl from a boisterous, large family. Jonathan was defying his family to enter the armed forces, and couldn’t admit to being frightened of a foreign war zone. It was love at first fragility. And Christmas, when lonely people longed for comfort.
The result was they never saw each other again, and Mira had Matt, named for the Disciple, Matthias. The boy’s family knew, and bought Mira a two-flat so she’d have a home and an income property and make no claims on the wealthy Winslows. Being an unwed mother in her Catholic milieu carried immense shame. Desperate to give Matt a father, she married Cliff Effinger, who’d coveted her income property.
Jonathan Winslow was never told Matt existed. Until Matt tracked him down and did the job.
Mira, by sheer stupid coincidence met his widowed brother at her restaurant hostess job, and did marry Philip Winslow. So the secret family farrago remained operative in Chicago.
For one day, Temple wanted Matt’s biological mother and father to share in his happiness, his success, secretly together in one big shared happy ending.
Secrets can be toxic, but secrets kept without rancor can heal.
This last Skype appointment would be a piece of wedding cake, Temple was sure.
“Hi, Mom! Guess what? The wedding’s on. I’ve got the date, the place and, of course, the man. Now I just have to settle a few details.”
“What?” her mother asked. “You’re doing this without me?”
“No, it’s just that circumstances, good circumstances I can’t announce yet, call for—”
“A quickie wedding in Las Vegas! Oh, Temple!”
“It’s in a church.”
“Whoopdedoo. I don’t care where it is, I want to know when-where so I can come down to help pick out the gown, the flowers, the reception menu… Surely there’ll be a groom’s dinner. Matt’s parents should plan that.”
“Uh, we’re kinda blending all that into one super-duper mega event. But you don’t have to worry about a thing, Mom. The Crystal Phoenix is handling all that. You’re all on vacation on their tab, including flying my four brothers and their wives and kids down. I’m their favorite employee.”
“And you’re my only daughter. What were you thinking?”
“That a surprise would be really cool for you?”
“Wrong. The surprise is for the guests, not the mother of the bride. How often am I going to get this chance? Once. I want to weigh in on the placement of every last spray of baby’s breath.”
Temple felt her buoyant Happy Balloon trickle air and develop worry lines.
“The Ladies’ Altar Society will take care of that. They’re used to that.”
“What am I? Chopped liver? And ‘Altar Society’! What church?”
“Our Lady of Guadalupe.”
“Of course it would be, with Matt. He’s a lovely young man, Temple. You’re thoughtful to honor his past priesthood, and I have no trouble doing that, but Catholics are very persnickety about their dogma and sacraments and ceremonials. They want to control everything.”
So, apparently, did mothers of the bride.
Temple rallied her most diplomatic tone and arguments. “I’m sure Father Hernandez will make major concessions.”
“On what?”
“You know, about a UU marrying a Catholic.”
“Your UU credentials are long lapsed.” Her mother was looking stern and frowning.
“Then I guess I qualify as a pagan,” Temple quipped, “but they’re okay with that.”
“Well, they’re always sending missionaries far and wide to get converts.”
“Mom, I don’t want to argue. I wanted to tell you the good news and get us all together down here for my wedding.”
“Temple.” Her mother folded her lips. “I guess I’m just shocked you’d leave me out of this. You know how I loved finding you the most beautiful little outfits as a baby.”
“And all through grade and high school. Did you know, Mom, when I was real young, that the boys would lie in wait to get me in a tussle and get my clothes torn and dirty.”
“No! My sons?”
“There’s a lot you wouldn’t know about your sons, unless you were their only baby sister.”
“So, that’s why…”
“They wanted to make me tougher, Mom. And they did. Inside, if not out. So you won both ways.” She didn’t go into the Mean Girls in high school.
“Temple. I never thought that treating you like the little doll you were was a…negative.”
“It wasn’t. I love being a clothes chameleon. You know I wanted to be a fashion or costume designer in high school. And I’m going to love doing that for my wedding. You gave me dreams, Mom. I’m going to dazzle everyone with them.”
Karen looked away from the screen. “Well, yes. I did give you a non-girly name at least. Much better than Tessa, which I first thought of.”
Temple quashed a wince.
“Okay Temple. Just tell me that you don’t want to marry in dungarees.”
“Promise. Van and Nicky, my bosses, you remember them?”
“Of course I do. Your father and I flew in and stayed overnight for Kit’s marriage. Another sweeping example of the generosity of the Crystal Phoenix and Fontana family. That’s the first time we met Matt and saw his stunning engagement ring on your finger.”
“Well, they’re sponsoring a private fashion show and fitting for our out-of-town bridal party members in the bridal suite for two days before the wedding. Including tux fittings for all the men.”
“Fittings?”
“Yes, for keeps. Dad will never again be able to say he can’t go to a formal outing you want to attend because he doesn’t own a tux.”
“My goodness, they must be fond of you. Am I going to be meeting any more of Nicky Fontana’s Italian gigolo brothers?”
“Aunt Kit’s husband, Aldo, recovering bachelor. And, yes, assorted tones and flavors of Fontana brothers. All yummy.”
“Oh.” She looked pleased. “That Kit, snatching up a confirmed bachelor at her age in life. I’m glad she’s no longer living alone and single in Manhattan.”