Purloined Wedding
Every little girl dreams of being a bride one day. She envisions herself looking like a Disney Princess decked out in a flowing white gown with a handsome Prince Charming at her side. Alexis Starrett was no different. When she was a child, she often dressed up in her mother's white nylon slip and high heels—both were way too big for her—and pretended to walk down the aisle with a bouquet of artificial flowers. These childhood fantasies remained with her through her teenage years and influenced her choice of career. After graduating high school, she went to a community college and took a course in event planning. Once she had her associate's degree, she became a wedding planner.
At first, she struggled to get her business off the ground. Since she spent nearly all her start-up money on advertising, she had to live at home with her parents and keep an office in their basement. She attended wedding expos in three states and, through diligent networking efforts, made contacts with venue owners, caterers, photographers, musicians, cake designers, florists and dressmakers.
Six months later, she had her first paying customer: a secretary engaged to an entry-level computer programmer. Although the couple's budget was small, Alexis arranged an elegant and romantic ceremony and reception. Fortunately, the bride was happy with everything from the dress to the bouquet to the favors. Most of all, she and the groom were delighted that the bill came in under budget. Although the planner made only a modest profit from her labors, the bride posted raving reviews on social media. Word of mouth brought in more clients, and soon the planner was making enough money to move into her own apartment.
The number of clients grew and she became so successful that five years after signing that lease, she purchased a two-story house. The lower level was reserved for her business while the upper was used as living space.
"What will you do if you have children?" Marlene Starrett asked when she was given the grand tour of her daughter's new home. "You can't expect them to stay upstairs all the time."
"I don't even have a boyfriend much less children."
"And why is that? Maybe if you didn't work so much, you would have time for a life."
"Please don't start that again," Alexis groaned. "Don't you want me to be successful?"
"Of course, I do! But I also want to see you happy."
"I am happy."
"Are you?"
"I'm only twenty-eight. I've got plenty of time to find Mr. Right."
Marlene was skeptical.
"Most young women your age are already married and have children."
"How many times do we have to go into this?"
"Did you ever hear that old expression 'always the bridesmaid, never the bride'? Well, you're always planning weddings but never your own."
Alexis rolled her eyes in frustration but held her tongue. Rather than continue to defend her marital state, she walked into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
Why bother? she wondered. My mother is never going to see my point of view. She's from a generation where most women talked about liberation yet were all too willing to hand over their independence in exchange for a wedding band. I suppose I ought to be thankful some women are still like that. If they weren't, I'd be out of a job!
* * *
As her thirty-fifth birthday neared, not only was Alexis still single, but she also had no likely prospects for a husband. Single men her age fell into two categories: the confirmed bachelors who shied away from commitment and the divorced men who were not keen on entering into another failed marriage.
So, what if I'm not married? she often asked herself. My business is going strong, my house is paid for and I've managed to set aside a nice little nest egg for my retirement.
There were times, however, when she admitted it would be nice to have a husband and children. Seeing the stars in the eyes of her clients often made her wish it were her own wedding she was planning. All those brides seemed so much in love, so full of hope and so enthusiastic about their future.
Alexis often wondered how many of them were now disillusioned, unhappy or divorced. She preferred not to think of them that way; she liked to believe every one of the women who came to her looking for help in planning a wedding lived happily ever after. Her business was successful because she sincerely wanted to make every one of her clients' girlhood dreams come true. That is until Damaris Ferromonte walked through her door.
In her experience as a wedding planner, she had worked with all kinds of brides. There were blushing brides who were not used to being the center of attention, demanding bridezillas with impossible expectations, pregnant brides who presented her with tight deadlines and socially prominent brides whose guestlists were printed out on multiple pages. All of them had one thing in common: they wanted their day to be special. In that regard, Miss Ferromonte was no different.
Alexis was not a woman who judged people—male or female—on their looks. Her long-held belief was that regardless of their weight, facial features, complexions or hairstyles, all brides are beautiful on their wedding day. One look at Damaris made her doubt such wisdom. She could not be described as ugly so much as creepy. Of average weight and height, there was nothing remarkable about her build. Her complexion was pale, almost white, and she wore her black hair long and straight. But it was the woman's eyes that made the wedding planner shiver with revulsion. The irises were so dark, they were not discernable from the pupils.
They don't even look human, she thought, trying to avoid eye contact with her client.
"Do you have any ideas about what you'd like to see at your wedding?" the planner asked during their initial consultation.
Since Damaris was dressed all in black, from the tips of her pointed heels to the high, ruffled collar on her floor-length dress, Alexis assumed she would want a gothic ceremony. She envisioned the entire wedding party dressed in funereal black, attending a reception at a venue decorated like Dracula's castle. She was therefore surprised by the young woman's answer.
"I want to get married at The Venetian in Las Vegas."
"They have several excellent packages for weddings, all of which include an event planner, so you won't need my services."
"I want someone local, and you come highly recommended."
"In that case, I'll be happy to work with you. I will need a deposit, though, and you'll have to sign the standard contract."
"No problem," Damaris said opening her black purse. "Do you want cash, check or credit card for the deposit?"
"Whatever is convenient for you," Alexis said, forcing a smile.
For better or worse, I'm going to be stuck working with this Morticia Addams bride with dead eyes.
* * *
The event planner from The Venetian was more than happy to work with Alexis on the arrangements. Between the two women, they would give Damaris Ferromonte the wedding of her dreams. Much of the communication between the wedding planner and her client could be handled by phone call or text message. However, Alexis had to meet with the bride when she chose her gown. Normally, the client's mother or close friends helped with the dress selection, but in this case, the wedding planner was called in to act as a consultant.
"I don't have anyone," Damaris said. "My parents are dead and ... well, I don't have any close girlfriends."
"That's all right. I'd love to help you pick your wedding gown," the planner lied.
The client showed up at the shop dressed in black again. Alexis wondered if she owned clothing that did not make her appear to be in mourning.
"I suppose the first thing you ought to decide is the color of the dress," she advised, suspecting it would be black.
"White, of course. It's traditional, isn't it?"
"Yes, but many brides choose nontraditional colors nowadays."
"I don't give a damn about what other women want. I want a white dress."
Just great! Alexis thought, desperately trying to keep the smile on her face from turning into a grimace. Another bridezilla!
For the next hour, the two women saw several dozen white gowns. Damaris tried four of them on, asking for the other woman's opinion each time she twirled in front of her like a fashion model. The dresses that made the bride's shortlist were lovely. They were refined and elegant with no ostentatious bows, artificial flowers, poofs or rhinestones. However, these classically styled white gowns made the pale, dark-haired, dark-eyed client look as though she were going to be laid out in a coffin rather than walk down the aisle.
"I can't decide which of the four I want," the client announced. "Which one do you like?"
"They're all great choices, but I think the first one suits you the best."
"You think so? I'll get that one then."
Damaris did not quibble over the price. Alexis was not surprised. The budget for the wedding and honeymoon was one of the highest she had ever been given.
Once the dress was selected, the wedding planner decided it was time for her to return to her office.
"I'll keep in touch," she promised.
"Wait. What about the cake?"
"The event planner at The Venetian said the hotel pastry chef could make one or, if you prefer, you can pick one of the other bakeries in Vegas. Carlo's and Freed's have both been featured on television shows."
"I assume Joshua and I will get to taste the cakes before we pick one."
"Are you planning on going to Vegas for the tasting?"
"No. Can't you arrange to have the cakes brought here?"
"I suppose I can ask them to send us samples. Do you have any flavors in mind?"
"Chocolate," the bride said, her dark eyes sparkling as she smiled. "And peanut butter. Joshua loves peanut butter. He practically lives on Reese's candy bars."
"I'll see what I can do."
* * *
The following week, Freed's Bakery sent several small, tasting cakes via FedEx overnight delivery, and Carlo's sent samples from its Hoboken location. The wedding planner laid them out on her conference table, along with paper plates and plastic forks. There was a chocolate cake with peanut butter mousse filling, a peanut butter cake with dark chocolate ganache and a few other tasty combinations of the two flavors, some of which had chunks of peanut butter cups or chocolate chips baked inside.
The couple ought to find something they like here. I only hope they can agree on one. I hate it when the bride and groom stubbornly refuse to compromise and I have to listen to them argue.
At three o'clock, a late model Mercedes pulled into the driveway.
That must be the groom's car. Damaris drives a Tesla.
The planner peeked through her drapes, wanting to get a look at the driver. Several times, she tried to imagine what the bride's intended looked like. She wondered if he was as dark and spooky as his fiancée. Although Joshua McHenry's hair was dark, there was nothing creepy about him. On the contrary, the groom was gorgeous!
Damaris, eager to taste the cakes, made hasty introductions when Alexis opened the door.
"Pleased to meet you," the groom said, as the bride headed directly for the table.
"Would either of you like a cup of coffee as you sample the cakes?" Alexis offered.
The bride merely shook her head, but Joshua asked if he could have a glass of water instead.
"Just in case the peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth," he explained.
The planner sat down at the conference table but did not try any of the cakes herself. The bride, on the other hand, not only tasted each slice but devoured the samples once her fiancé had sampled them.
"Have you made up your mind?" Alexis asked when there was nothing but a few crumbs left.
"I like the dark chocolate with the peanut butter mousse filling," the groom answered, giving her a million-dollar smile along with his reply.
"That one was too peanut buttery!" Damaris complained. "I like the devil's food cake with the peanut butter frosting and the chunks of peanut butter cups inside."
Oh, no! Here it comes! the planner thought, expecting the couple to argue over the cake selection.
"All right," the groom capitulated. "This is your day. Whatever cake you like is fine with me."
With the decision made, the bride stood up and announced that she was going to the ladies' room. Alexis began picking up the plastic forks, paper plates and napkins.
"Here, let me help you," the good-looking groom offered.
"That's okay. I've got it."
"I really appreciate all this work you're doing," he said. "I hope Damaris isn't too demanding."
"No more than other brides I've worked with."
"She's used to getting her way. Before her parents died, they spoiled her outrageously. I'm afraid she's never gotten used to hearing the word no."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Alexis smiled and briefly looked into Joshua's blue eyes. Although she had never believed someone could fall in love in an instant, such was the case.
"Isn't that a kick in the teeth?" she asked herself when the couple drove off in the Mercedes. "I've finally met the man I've been waiting for all these years, and he's engaged to one of my highest-paying clients!"
* * *
The Mercedes returned to her driveway the following evening. This time, however, only one person was inside it. Alexis's heart raced when she saw Joshua McHenry stroll up her walkway and climb her front steps.
"Hi," he said nervously when she opened the door. "I'm sorry to show up unannounced like this."
"It's okay. I'm done working for the day. Why don't you come inside?"
Normally, she would have led him to her office or conference room, but this time, she took him upstairs to her living quarters.
"Have you changed your mind about the cake?" she asked.
"No. About the bride."
"I don't follow you."
"I don't want to marry Damaris," Joshua announced. "I don't think I ever really did."
"So, you're here to cancel the ceremony at The Venetian?"
"Not exactly."
Before Alexis had the opportunity to question him further, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Although taken aback by his impetuous display of affection, she welcomed it and returned his ardor.
"I knew you felt the same way I did," he said when he finally let her go. "I sensed it the minute I walked through the door."
"This is crazy! You're engaged."
"Not anymore, I'm not. I broke up with Damaris this morning."
"How did she take it?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid. She's been blowing up my phone with calls and texts, but I haven't bothered to answer any of them."
"Is it fair not to talk things over with her? After all, the wedding was only two months away."
"I spent three hours explaining all the reasons why our marriage wouldn't work. She refused to listen. She thinks I'm suffering from pre-wedding jitters."
"And are you?"
"No. As insane as it sounds, I've fallen in love with you."
It was insane, but it was also true. Amid chocolate and peanut butter cakes, something clicked between the wedding planner and the groom.
"Does Damaris know that?"
"No. I kept you out of the conversation."
"Thank you."
"I'm sure once she realizes I won't change my mind, she'll call you to cancel the plans."
"I don't look forward to that!"
Another embrace, another passionate kiss and Damaris Ferromonte was forgotten about.
The phone call Alexis had dreaded receiving came four days later. The bride was livid. Her rage, which seemed to grow with each profanity-filled tirade, lessened the planner's feelings of guilt. The would-be bride was throwing a full-blown tantrum like a spoiled child.
"How dare he stand me up at the altar!" she screamed into her phone.
That was an exaggeration since the wedding was still a couple of months away.
"I'll contact the event planner at The Venetian and see what I can do about getting a refund for ...."
"I don't give a damn about the money! Let them have it. And you can keep the deposit I gave you."
"I'm sorry this happened," Alexis said, at a loss for any words of comfort.
"Not nearly as sorry as Joshua is going to be!"
"What do you mean by ...?"
Before the wedding planner could finish asking the question, the line went dead.
* * *
"You can't be serious!" Alexis laughed as she stared at the ring in the blue velvet jeweler's box.
"I am. I want to marry you," Joshua said.
The diamond was not nearly the size of the one Damaris had worn, but then he had not picked that ring out. It belonged to the bride's deceased mother.
"Well? Yes or no? I can't kneel down on your floor all day."
"Yes."
Despite having dated for only two weeks, both of them were willing to take the proverbial plunge. Not only were they eager to marry, but they also wanted to do so right away.
"Let's elope," Alexis suggested. "The last thing I want to do is spend months organizing my own wedding."
"You don't have to. We can get married at The Venetian. The arrangements were all made, and the date has already been reserved."
"For Damaris, not me."
"For Mr. and Mrs. Joshua McHenry. That's us. Come on, it'll be fun! Me and you in that white gondola sailing along the imitation Venetian canal."
"You're right. It would be so romantic."
Dipping into her savings, Alexis wrote a check out to Damaris Ferromonte, returning all monies she had spent on the arrangements. It was the least she could do after first stealing the woman's fiancé and now her wedding plans.
For the next month and a half, the planner was kept busy making last-minute changes.
"What about the honeymoon?" Joshua asked. "Are we still going to Italy?"
"Yes. I confirmed the hotel reservation, and I was able to change the name on the airline ticket for the flight to Venice."
Six days later, the couple and most of their guests arrived at Vegas's Harry Reed International Airport. The remaining guests would arrive later that day. A car was waiting at the airport to take them to The Venetian.
"This place is beautiful!" Marlene Starrett exclaimed when she saw the manmade canal and the imitation Rialto Bridge in front of the casino/resort. "Have you ever planned a wedding here for one of your clients?"
"No, but I did arrange one at the Bellagio. I'll never forget it! The best man was so drunk he fell into that huge fountain in front of the hotel. It seems that no matter how meticulous I am with my planning, something always goes wrong," she laughed. "I remember at one wedding, the bride's mother and groom's mother got into an argument that became physical. It was a real catfight with kicking, scratching and slapping. When the groom tried to break it up, his new mother-in-law gave him a black eye!"
"Let's hope we don't have anything go wrong at our wedding," Joshua said, squeezing Alexis's hand.
"Have no fear! This is a small wedding organized by not one but two professionals—me and The Venetian's event planner. What could possibly go wrong?"
What, indeed?
* * *
Tall and thin like a runway model, Alexis made a beautiful bride. Standing beside her handsome soon-to-be husband, the couple resembled a bride-and-groom topper for a wedding cake. The ceremony itself, though short and sweet, was romantic and brought tears of joy to several eyes. A brief reception followed. Afterward, the newlyweds were seated in The Venetian's signature white wedding gondola. Their guests and strangers alike photographed them, most with cell phones but some preferred using cameras.
"I feel like a movie star," the bride said, enjoying every moment of her special day.
"You look like one. I'm so happy I met you."
A brief image of Damaris sitting beside Joshua in that gondola flitted across her mind.
I mustn't think about that! she thought, feeling a twinge of guilt that she quickly suppressed. I didn't steal him away from her. He left her of his own accord.
"Do you think when we ride a real gondola on our honeymoon, it will be as nice as this one?" the groom asked.
"Yes, even though we won't be the center of attention there. We'll be just another couple of tourists taking in the sights. But I doubt the water in Venice is as clear as the water here. This is like being in a giant inground swimming pool."
As the newlyweds talked about their upcoming trip, the boat neared the replica of the Rialto Bridge. When they went beneath it, Joshua leaned forward and kissed his bride. Again, an image of Damaris popped into Alexis's brain.
Stop it! This is my day, the one I dreamed of since I was a little girl. I won't let anything or anyone spoil it for me.
As the gondolier sang a romantic ballad, the bride sought comfort in her husband's arms and turned her thoughts to the years that lie ahead of them.
"I'm so happy," she said. "I wish this day would never end. I ...."
Moments later, the gondola glided past the Bridge of Sighs, and the bride felt her consciousness slip away. When her eyes fluttered open, Joshua breathed a sigh of relief.
"What happened?" she asked.
"You passed out. One minute you were telling me how happy you were and the next your body went limp. When was the last time you saw a doctor?"
"Don't worry. I had a complete physical six weeks ago, and I received a clean bill of health."
"Is there any possibility that you're pregnant?"
"I don't think so. Why? Does becoming a father frighten you?"
"No. I'm looking forward to it. I'm just worried about your health. Have you passed out like this before?"
"I'm fine. I'm sure it's just all the excitement of the day. That and the fact that I've been dieting for two weeks so that I'd look good in this dress."
"Dieting!" Joshua exclaimed, feeling relief flood over him that his bride was not seriously ill. "You don't have an ounce of fat on you."
* * *
The newlyweds spent the remainder of the day with their families and friends. In typical Vegas fashion, they ate dinner in a restaurant owned by a celebrity chef, attended a Cirque du Soleil show and tried their luck at the gaming tables and slot machines.
"At least I'm lucky at love," Joshua laughed after losing twenty-five dollars to the modern equivalent of the old-fashioned one-armed bandit.
"Despite the incident in the gondola, everything went smoothly," the bride declared as the groom opened a bottle of champagne for the two of them to share in the privacy of their luxury suite.
"It's not over yet. We still have the wedding night to look forward to."
When Alexis fell asleep in her husband's arms two hours later, snippets of memories from her special day were replayed in her dreams. As often happens, those images took on a surrealistic quality. Real-life events were distorted by her subconscious mind. Chief among these distortions was the presence of Damaris Ferromonte at both the ceremony and the reception. In the dream, the jilted fiancée played a major role in the festivities. It was she who carried the wedding rings on a satin pillow, gave the bride away at the altar, helped cut the wedding cake and caught the bouquet.
The unwanted presence of her former client was no doubt eerie, but the dream did not become a full-blown nightmare until the bride found herself seated in the white gondola. Joshua was no longer next to her, nor were her friends and family standing beside the canal taking photos. Furthermore, there were no cars on the street or pedestrians on the sidewalks. The Venetian looked abandoned. Except for a faceless gondolier dressed in black, Alexis was completely alone.
"Where is everybody?" the frightened bride called out in her sleep.
She then felt the gondola move. She heard the water slap against the sides of the boat as it glided on the surface.
"Stop this thing!" she demanded.
But the gondolier either did not hear her or he was purposely ignoring her.
"I want to get out of here."
The man responded by singing a song. At least, he appeared to be singing, which was quite a trick since this faceless head had no mouth. "Santa Lucia" is a traditional Italian song well-known around the world and recorded by such legendary singers as Enrico Caruso, Bing Crosby and Elvis Presley. The upbeat tempo of the actual song, however, bore little resemblance to the dirge-like ballad of the gondolier.
"Stop singing. You're ruining the song."
He responded to her request by singing louder.
The bride's fear turned to terror as the gondola approached the Bridge of Sighs.
"Turn the boat around. I want to go back."
As the gondolier steered the boat through the canal toward the bridge, it was clear he intended to sail right under it. When he did, his terrified passenger heard a voice call her name from above.
* * *
Alexis woke with a start. Joshua was still sleeping peacefully beside her.
It was just a bad dream. I don't want to wake him up. We have another busy day ahead of us tomorrow.
Try as she might, though, the bride could not fall back to sleep. She got out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom where her phone was plugged into the charger. She picked it up, googled BRIDGE OF SIGHS and began to read. The bridge (Ponte dei Sospiri in Italian) is an enclosed bridge in Venice that crosses over the Rio Canonica Palazzo (also known as the Rio di Palazzo) and connects the interrogation room of the Doge's Palace to the prison. Its two barred windows offered condemned men their last brief view of freedom before imprisonment. Legend has it, you can sometimes hear the mournful sighs of the convicts, thus giving the 420-year-old bridge its nickname.
With its dark history, I'm surprised the bridge doesn't give more people nightmares, she thought as she put down her phone and headed back to bed.
After two hours of tossing and turning, she fell into a fitful slumber, haunted by more nightmarish visions of her wedding.
"Wake up, sleepy head," Joshua said, gently shaking her shoulder.
"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.
"It's after six already. You better get up and get dressed if you want to have breakfast with the families before we catch our plane."
Although exhausted, she quickly got ready and met her parents and in-laws at the Grand Lux Café.
"So, you're all going to remain in Vegas for a few more days?" Joshua asked.
"Yes, but not at The Venetian," his mother replied. "Lovely though it is, it's a bit out of our price range."
"And besides," his father added, "we don't need a suite. All we need is a clean room with a queen size bed and a TV."
"God forbid they don't have television!" his wife needled him.
Joshua smiled and wondered if someday he and Alexis would have a relationship similar to that of his parents.
At nine-thirty, the newlyweds left for the airport. An hour and a half later, they were in the air headed for Italy. After layovers in Chicago and Brussels, they arrived at Venice Marco Polo Airport.
"We're here," Joshua announced.
Although her eyes were tightly shut, Alexis was awake. In fact, during the last forty-eight hours, she barely had three hours of sleep. When they entered their suite at the Hotel Rialto, her husband walked out onto a balcony overlooking the famed bridge while she curled up on the oversized bed and immediately fell into a dreamless slumber. It was to be the last peaceful sleep the wedding planner would ever know.
* * *
"I don't get it," Joshua said as he and his bride strolled past St. Mark's Basilica. "Every tourist who comes to Venice takes a gondola ride. Why don't we?"
"Go ahead, if you want to. I'm not stopping you."
"By myself?"
"I don't want to go," Alexis stubbornly insisted.
"You rode the gondola at The Venetian. It's the same thing."
That's what I'm afraid of, she thought.
"Then why ride one here?" she countered.
"Because this is Venice. They've had gondolas here for more than a thousand years, perhaps even longer than that. Come on," her husband urged. "The ride is only forty minutes long. Do it for me. Please."
"All right."
The gondolier, dressed in a red-striped shirt, black pants and straw hat, welcomed them aboard. He began to sing as he pushed off and steered his boat through the canal.
"You were right about one thing," Joshua announced as they left the docking area.
"What's that?"
"The water here is not crystal clear like in Vegas."
The color of the water was the farthest thing from Alexis's mind. She felt her panic grow with each chorus of "'O Sole Mio." Her heart raced as they neared the Doge's Palace.
"We must be going under the Bridge of Sighs," Joshua said, unaware of his wife's fear.
She quickly lowered her head, forcing her eyes to stare at her feet.
"Look up or you're going to miss it," her husband warned as he snapped photos with his cell phone.
As the gondola glided beneath the historic bridge, Alexis could see the shadow it cast. It was as though the menacing link between the palace and prison blotted out the sun. Thankfully, the brightness returned once the boat was free of the bridge.
I did it! she thought, congratulating herself on her courage.
"Alexis."
"Did you hear that?" she cried.
"Hear what?"
"Someone called my name."
"I didn't hear anything."
"Alexis."
"There it is again! You must have heard it that time."
She turned and faced Joshua, catching a glimpse of the bridge in her peripheral vision. The white limestone structure took on a grotesque human appearance. The two barred windows seemed like eyes, the carved decoration between them was the nose and the arc of the bridge and the surface of the canal became a gaping open mouth that threatened to swallow them, gondola and all.
The bride's scream was cut short when once again she fainted in her husband's arms.
* * *
"I tell you there's nothing wrong with me!" Alexis insisted after Joshua asked the gondolier where the hospital was located.
"Obviously, something is wrong. You passed out for the second time this week."
"There's nothing physically wrong with me. It's only stress."
"Last time, you blamed it on your diet. You're going to see a doctor and find out exactly what caused these fainting spells."
"It's that damned bridge!" she blurted out as they made their way through the crowds toward their hotel.
"Bridge? What bridge?"
"The Bridge of Sighs."
"How can a bridge cause you to pass out?"
When they got to their suite, she told him not only about the nightmares but also about hearing the bridge call out to her.
"It was her voice."
"Whose?"
"Damaris's. I clearly recognized it."
"So, that's what this is all about. Damaris. You're on a guilt trip because you think you stole me away from her."
"Not just you but her wedding and honeymoon, too! You don't realize how important a wedding day is for a woman. It's her time to shine, to be the fairy tale princess and the center of attention."
"Which Damaris has been all her life! You don't know her like I do. She's a spoiled rich kid whose parents gave her everything she wanted. And she made it clear that she expected me to do the same. That's why I gave in so easily on the choice of wedding cake. She would have made my life a living hell if I disagreed with her on the flavor."
"It's only a cake, for Christ's sake!"
"Not to her, it wasn't. She's a total control freak. Everything has to be her way."
Joshua took his harried bride into his arms and held her tightly.
"Even if I hadn't met you, I probably wouldn't have gone through with the wedding. And if I had, the marriage would never have lasted. But I did meet you, and you saved me from committing the worst mistake of my life!"
"Okay. I didn't steal you from her, but now do you understand why I've been on edge?" Alexis asked. "And do you agree that I don't need to go to the hospital?"
"All right. But if you pass out again, you'll go even if I have to pick you up and carry you there."
As the couple got dressed for dinner, Joshua wondered what significance the Bridge of Sighs had in his wife's nightmares. He could understand her dreaming about an angry ex-fiancée, but why a bridge—two bridges: the original one and its casino-owned replica?
Once Alexis finished touching up her makeup, the couple left their suite. They walked hand-in-hand out the hotel door into the humid evening.
"Where are we going?" the bride asked as her husband pulled her in a direction opposite from that of the restaurant.
"The best way to conquer your fears is to confront them."
"What?"
"We're going to the Bridge of Sighs."
"No!" she cried and stopped walking.
"If this marriage is going to work, you'll have to trust me. We're going to the bridge, and you'll see that there's nothing to be afraid of—least of all Damaris Ferromonte, who is back in the States, not here in Italy."
Joshua was right. There was no reason for her to be afraid.
"I've never acted like this before," she said as she docilely followed where he led. "I've always been a sensible person. I don't know what's come over me."
"It's called falling in love," her husband laughed. "That emotion has always caused people to behave erratically."
As they passed St. Mark's Basilica, Alexis saw the Doge's Palace up ahead and beyond it, the two towering columns of Piazza San Marco. She remembered their tour guide telling them that the space between the two columns was used for executions.
Maybe some of the poor souls who were dragged from the Doge's Palace through the Bridge of Sighs and into the prison later met their end there, she thought.
The couple rounded the corner and walked along the Riva degli Schiavoni. The wife steeled herself for the ordeal ahead. Feeling her trembling beside him, Joshua gripped her hand tighter.
"You can do this," he said, offering her encouragement and moral support.
She nodded her head and bravely continued her steady pace.
They walked a few more yards, and there it was. They stood on a small bridge that spanned the Rio Canonica Palazzo where they had an excellent view of the Bridge of Sighs. This time, Alexis's gaze was drawn not to the two eye-like windows but to the heads carved on the arch. All eleven of them were made in Damaris's likeness. Alexis screamed and tried to pull away.
"Stop! It's just a bridge," Joshua cried.
"No, it's not! It's her!"
The windows became real eyes with the same dark irises that Damaris had. And the space between the surface of the canal and the arch of the bridge that had reminded Alexis of a gaping mouth seemed to open and close as the bridge called her name.
"Alexis."
Witnesses' accounts vary as to what happened next. Some people claimed to have seen the young bride jump into the canal. Others swore a bizarre handlike wave reached up and pulled her into the water. Joshua, who was looking straight ahead toward the Bridge of Sighs, saw nothing. He only knew his wife was in danger when he heard the splash as she entered the water.
"I immediately jumped in after her," he told police. "I saw her head go under, and I swam in that direction. But I couldn't find her."
Others dove into the water and tried to help, but no one could locate Alexis. It was assumed her body had made its way to the Venetian Lagoon and would hopefully be brought back to land with the tide. Meanwhile, her death—no one believed the missing woman was still alive—was ruled a suicide. This assumption was strengthened by Joshua's account of her recent mental state.
Once the police concluded their investigation, the widower was free to go. He wept with grief as he packed his and his late wife's belongings into their suitcases. Since his flight was not scheduled to take off for several hours, he left the suite and walked the streets of Venice one last time. Rather than look at the magnificent landmarks, he scanned the canals, both hoping and dreading to find Alexis's body.
If only ..., he mused as he stood on the spot where he had last seen her.
Suddenly, the two barred windows of the Bridge of Sighs took on a monstrous eye-like appearance, and not that of just any eyes. The irises were so dark, they were not discernable from the pupils.
"Damaris!" he groaned as the space between the bridge's arch and the surface of the Rio Canonica Palazzo became a gaping open mouth.
"Joshua."
No, Salem, it's not St. Patrick's Day in Venice. The water just happens to look green.
