CHAPTER 136

Stephanie's POV

"No!" I nearly shouted, trying to inject as much vehemence as I could muster into that one word. It wasn't having the squelching effect I wanted.

"But Stevie…" Tina whined, "It will be soooo much fun. I promise, it will be high class. No Drew Carey lookalikes. Trust me, I'll do the selection myself. Only Top Shelf guys, all the way." She was sitting at one end of my sofa with her legs tucked up under her, and Mary Lou was slouched at the other end. I was sprawled across the overstuffed easy chair with Blackie curled up by my side.

"NO! No strippers for my bachelorette party." I shook my head emphatically and took a sip from the bottle of water I'd been nursing.

Some secret exchange occurred between Tina and Mary Lou and then Mary Lou leaned forward and tried another tack: guilt. "How can you deny me, your best friend – your married best friend – the only chance I'll ever have to see another man's package?"

I let out a snort, spewing drops of water over Blackie and myself. "Nice try, Mare, but I'm not buying it. I know for a fact that Lenny offers to strip for you every Friday night after his boys' night out." Mary Lou just rolled her eyes. I guess her hubby's alcohol-induced striptease wasn't one of his better talents.

I picked up my cell phone off of the end table and pulled up a picture of Carlos with his shirt off. Holding my phone up so they could both see, I gave them my ultimatum, "I've already had the best," I grinned. "I don't need to see the rest. No strippers!"

They both leaned forward and their eyes widened as they took in the magnificent sight of my fiancé in all his shirtless grandeur. But when they sat back, Tina was pouting and even Mary Lou seemed a little disappointed about my decision. I really wasn't in any mood to sit through a male stripper show when there was only one guy I wanted to see take it all off. And I didn't want to share that amazing performance with a half dozen or more of my best friends, though I had no doubt each and every one of them would kill to see Carlos strip. Hmmmm, Carlos stripping… maybe that could be our next fantasy date?

It was time I played my trump card. "How about we go in an entirely different direction for my bachelorette party?"

That only got another eye roll from my friends and a snide comment from Tina. "If you suggest an 'exciting' evening of bowling, I'm gonna mutiny."

"No, not bowling, but… what about a spa day?" I suggested, seeing a slight brightening in my friends' faces. I knew my next statement would widen their smiles considerably.

"Carlos' grandmother has offered to foot the bill for a day in the City for me and all my bridesmaids. She loves going to Elizabeth Arden's Red Door Spa on Fifth Avenue and she has sprung for their Iconic Red Door Treatment for all of us!"

Tina screamed and Mary Lou's jaw dropped. "The Red Door is famous for its massages. Do we get massages?" Tina pleaded.

"Yep. We get their signature massages and facials – plus, a mani and pedi, and a shampoo and blow dry, and make-up – for all of us!"

"Woo hoo!" Tina jumped off the couch and pumped the air several times. Mary Lou was still speechless.

"And, to put the finishing touches on the day, Dawson has reserved rooms for us at…" I did a finger drum roll on the edge of the coffee table, "…The Plaza!"

Mary Lou finally found her voice. "THE Plaza? Omigod, I've always wanted to stay there, but could never afford it." She clapped her hands several times in her excitement. "My kids love watching 'Eloise at the Plaza' and truth be told, so do I. The place is soooo luxurious it doesn't even look like a hotel, at least none of the hotels I've ever stayed in."

I nodded, just as tickled as they were. "Dawson also said he wanted us to have a really great time so he threw in reservations at The Plaza's famous Afternoon Tea in the Palm Court restaurant and Eloise's Breakfast the following morning, as well as limo service that evening that will take us to Manhattan's hottest new nightclub, the Pink Elephant."

"You've got to be kidding?" Tina cried, her hands holding the top of her head as if it were about to burst.

"I know it's not what you were hoping for – no strippers, no bar hopping, no drunken reverie – but I'm just not in the mood for that stuff. Not since I met Carlos. We'll still have a great time pampering ourselves and living in luxury and then we'll have a night of dancing and riding around Manhattan in a snazzy limo."

"What do you mean, 'not what we were hoping for'? Stevie, this is so far beyond what I could hope for. I couldn't even begin to give you such a fabulous bachelorette party. This will be a trip of a lifetime. We'll be talking about this party for years."

Tina hugged me and then ran out to the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder, "This deserves a toast." She returned with three cans of coke, handing one to Mary Lou and one to me. At my look of surprise, Tina explained, "By the way, you're out of beer."

Mary Lou popped the top and raised her soda, "To a legendary bachelorette party!" Tina and I clinked cans with Mary Lou and repeated Mare's toast before taking a long swig. I couldn't wait to tell the rest of the gang. This event would bury all memories of poor Stella's pathetic bachelorette party for good and Stella would be the first to celebrate.

Carlos' POV

I certainly hoped Stephanie was having a better time at her bachelorette party than she had at the one where I had met her. I was pleased she hadn't wanted a stripper to perform for her and her friends, not that I would be threatened if she had. I made sure Steph was well satisfied in that department and if she ever wanted a stripper, I imagine I could oblige her. And knowing my Babe, she would "tip" me very well, in a way other male strippers could only dream of.

My buddies were planning my bachelor party, and they told me there would definitely be strippers. I didn't fight it. I knew the women would be there for the other guys, not for me. I had no interest in other women; I hadn't even looked at another woman that way since I met Stephanie. No woman could ever top my Babe.

Take last Saturday… it had rained all day and power outages had blackened a good portion of town. I came home to a darkened house lit only with a few flickering candles. As I entered the dimly lit foyer I was greeted by a very unexpected hostess: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Steph looked fabulous in Goth makeup and a gauzy black gown that hugged her incredible curves. Her black wig made her porcelain skin practically glow. And she had a campy "Elvira" monologue all planned out that nearly had me rolling on the floor.

Steph kept up a constant comical banter and it took us forever to get around to having sex because we were both laughing so hard. I couldn't believe I could be so turned on and yet laugh so much. She tried to bite my neck to "suck my blooood," but I was horny as hell and finally convinced her to suck on another part of my anatomy. That was a trip unto itself, watching "Elvira" and her ratted-up wig bob up and down on my cock. When I went to rip her tattered gown off her luscious body, Steph protested. She wanted to save the outrageous outfit for Halloween. My Babe sure loves dressing up for Halloween. I lay back on our bed and watched her do a sexy striptease for me as she carefully peeled the black gauze from her milky white skin. After she hung the filmy dress in the closet, she was ready for some blood-curdling kisses and my own version of vampire bites. It was a dark and stormy night… to remember.

But right now, I was focusing on making arrangements for our wedding. Stephanie had definitely been busy during the time I'd been overseas. She had cut out pictures from magazines and downloaded webpages that highlighted what she wanted for our wedding. She had given me an excellent blueprint to work from. I would do my best to honor her choices while adding my own touches to that special day that couldn't come fast enough for me.

I had met with my sisters earlier and given them their assignments for the wedding. They were thrilled to be asked to be part of the planning and I was grateful for their assistance. I gave them their marching orders and I made it clear they were to follow my orders to a T. This was Stephanie's and my wedding and it would reflect our tastes, not our families'.

The Mañoso name and Rosa's well-known reputation helped garner a quick response from many Newark businesses and with only a few weeks left, we needed that edge. DiPaolo Bros promised to deliver an eight-tiered wedding cake based on a picture Steph had clipped out. She also had photos of the type of flowers she wanted for her bridal bouquet and for the rest of the wedding party. I was surprised she had selected a very plain white calla lily spray for her bouquet and for my boutonnière, and more delicate white lilies for the corsages for our mothers and grandmothers. The simple yet elegant arrangements represented my tastes as well and I selected several matching floral displays of my own to help set the mood at the church. I had already established a business relationship with a local florist when I'd ordered those 18 months of flowers to be delivered to Steph during my absence, so it was a simple matter to add the wedding flowers to my standing order.

Steph had expressed a desire to have me in full dress uniform for the wedding ceremony. I liked that idea and when I asked my Army buddies to stand up with me, I asked them to come similarly attired. I didn't often wear a military uniform, but for this momentous occasion I would gladly make an exception. And as a surprise for Stephanie, I had consulted with Catherine Meads to allow my buddies to perform an Arch of Sabers as I walked hand in hand with my new bride out of the church. However, for the reception, the men, including myself, would change into black tuxedos. But that wasn't the only surprise I had planned for Stephanie. I couldn't wait to see her look of joy when our transportation pulled up at the church steps to take us to the reception.

My bride also wanted to include a patriotic theme to honor my military service, so I gave Celia that assignment: subtly add some red, white and blue items throughout the wedding and reception. I knew Maria loved the fluff stuff, so I asked her to come up with something for guests to acknowledge our marriage when we left the church, but I specifically told my exuberant sister not to choose anything the guests could throw at us that would filter annoyingly into our clothes.

My mother and grandmother demanded they be allowed to help, too, so I assigned them the task of ordering the garments for the wedding party. Steph and her friends had already picked out the dresses and shoes they wanted, all that was left was ordering them and making sure they fit. My mother gave me a stern lecture about the length of time it takes to order and alter dresses for the bridesmaids and mothers and grandmothers. I told her as long as everything was ready by the morning of June 6th, I didn't care. Her response was… surprising, to say the least. I didn't know my mother knew those kinds of words in Spanish.

It was Pilar who mentioned hiring a hair stylist and makeup artist to assist the wedding party get ready the morning of the ceremony. That was now her new assignment. And I asked Pilar to arrange clothing and whatever accoutrements were needed for the ring bearer and flower girls. I knew Stephanie wanted her two nieces and her best friend's daughter as her flower girls and I decided Alex's youngest son, Ricky, would be the right choice for our ring bearer. Ricky usually glued himself to my leg whenever he was in the same room with me, so I figured he would make a beeline down the aisle straight to me and then stay by my side until we needed the rings. As for my little sister, Lena, she had her hands full taking care of her first child, so I asked her to handle the guest register and the wedding presents the day of the wedding.

One of the tasks I took on myself was the wedding invitation. Since the wedding was only a few weeks away, I sent out an electronic "Save the Date" e-vite and then ordered a more formal invitation from a local stationery company that promised to do a good, but rush print job. We'd mail out the formal invitations as soon as they were printed. The hardest part had been getting a guest list from Steph's side of the family. The troubles between Frank and Ellen compounded the finalization of the bride's family portion of the guest list. I wasn't about to get in the middle of that. I just gave them a firm deadline and let them duke it out. I had Steph's guest list and that was all that mattered to me.

I'd just hung up the phone after talking to the stationers when the doorbell rang. Blackie barked once and ran to the door, waiting for me to follow. I gestured for Blackie to stay and opened the door to find my father standing there with a large wooden box in his hands.

"Father." I stepped back and gestured for him to come in. We had finally come to an understanding, but things were still a little strained between us.

"Good evening, Carlos. Forgive me for dropping in unannounced." He stepped over the threshold and held out the box. "These arrived today and I wanted you to have them. They are for your wedding reception."

I took the box from him and immediately recognized what it was. A humidor. I opened the lid and saw dozens and dozens of plump hand-rolled cigars, and not just any cigar. My father had brought me a humidor filled with Cuban Cohibas – not the lesser Dominican Republic brand. It was a Cuban tradition for the men – and more recently, the women – to celebrate the bride and groom's union by smoking Cohibas at the reception. Cuban Cohibas were almost impossible to obtain in the States and I knew these premium smokes had cost my father a fortune. I set the humidor on the side table and held out my hand. "Thank you. This is an incredible gift. I appreciate all it took for you to obtain these for us."

After an awkward handshake, my father moved into the living room and stood there, looking uncomfortable. I joined him and asked, "May I get you something to drink?"

He shook his head, "I will not be staying. I just wanted to bring you the cigars. Teresa told me that tonight is Estefanía's special night out with her bridesmaids. So, you are alone?"

"Yes, well, except for Blackie and Steph's hamster," I exhaled a slight chuckle. Blackie sniffed my father's pant leg and then settled down by my chair. "I've been making calls to local vendors regarding the wedding. Things are coming together nicely."

"Ah. Your wedding is only a few short weeks away. Your sisters chatter about nothing else. Even your mother has caught the wedding bug and talks nonstop about flowers, dresses and shoes." He tsked and shook his head. "Do women think of nothing else but shoes?"

I couldn't help grinning, remembering Stephanie last night, wearing those thigh-high black leather boots and nothing else. "Some shoes are worth the effort women put into them," I answered.

"I do not see it, but then I do not pretend to understand women at all. Carolina is beside herself with pride that her little Ricky will be in the wedding party, carrying the precious rings for you and Estefánia, while Alejandro just rolls his eyes at such talk. But… then again, your brother was very pleased you asked him to be your best man. It is good that we are finally putting aside our past hurts and growing closer as a family again. If there is anything I can do to assist you with your wedding plans, please do not hesitate to ask me." My father's eyes kept darting around the room, as if he were afraid to look me in the eye.

"I think I have everything under control, but thank you for your offer."

"Ahh… did I tell you how pleased your mother and I are that you and Estefánia will be married in Sacred Heart?" I got the feeling that my father was stalling for some reason.

"We were fortunate to be able to reserve the church for that day in June. Most wedding venues seem to be booked nearly a year in advance nowadays. Everyone keeps telling me you can't plan a full-blown wedding in just five weeks, but so far, I haven't had a problem." I started to move toward the foyer.

"Um… Carlos… have you… um… decided where you will be holding the reception?"

That was it! That was what my father wanted. I'd been giving that very thing considerable thought. Stephanie had related the entire sordid affair of her telling Papa, when she thought he was just a family friend, that she wanted the reception at Rosa's, and then rescinded that decision when she found out Papa's true identity and the deception he had perpetrated on her. I had wholeheartedly agreed with her decision.

Over the last several days, I had looked at many options for places to hold our reception, including the clubhouse here in Bel Aire. Most places I would approve of were already booked and of the few halls and clubs that were available, none of them had the ambiance or the personal warmth I wanted for our wedding celebration.

Most of the time I didn't think about being Cuban, but the more I got into planning the wedding, the more I realized how much impact my family upbringing had had on me. And for some reason I wanted to celebrate my marriage to Stephanie in familiar comfortable surroundings. The situation with my family had changed, mainly because of Stephanie and the positive influence she had on me and on my family. My father and I had finally reached a truce and we were both trying to put the past behind us. While Rosa's had been a source of contention between my father and me, it still represented "family" to me. The only reason not to have the reception at Rosa's was to punish my father. Sobering thought!

"Please, sit down, Papa." We both settled into our respective chairs, my father nervously crossing and recrossing his legs. I was actually beginning to feel a little sorry for him. Knowing my father, I knew how much it would mean to him for us to have our reception at Rosa's, and also what it would mean if we didn't. He had been making serious amends to all of us and, more than once in the past month, I'd caught him biting his tongue, closing his eyes and then smiling to himself as he said a little prayer under his breath. He really was trying to change – and, typical for my father, taking great pride in his success. But he was truly trying to be a better father to his children and husband to his wife.

"About the wedding reception," I began, and my father immediately stilled. "I know Stephanie had told you we wouldn't be having our reception at Rosa's. She was very upset that you had continued to lie to her about who you were, and she realized that Rosa's would be the last place where I would want to celebrate my marriage. And she was right." I paused before giving him my decision.

And then I watched as my father's shoulders slumped forward and his chest caved in. He took a deep breath and said, "I understand, mijo. If I could take back all my horrible actions, I would. Your wedding should be one of the happiest days of your life, and you and your lovely bride should celebrate where you are comfortable."

His reaction shocked me. If anything was going to shake my father's newfound humbleness it would be this, but he was handling it with a calm acceptance I'd never experienced from him before. I was impressed.

Leaning forward, I steepled my hands in front of me, my forearms on my knees and said, "The decision not to use Rosa's for the reception was made a while ago, and since then things have changed…for the better. 'Genio y figura hasta la sepultura.' But, Papa, you have proven that saying false." Both of us looked the other in the eye and an understanding passed between us. I think it was the first actual man-to-man exchange, albeit wordless, my father and I had had. By that, I mean my father actually seeing me as an adult, not just as his wayward son, and me respecting the enlightened man my father had become.

[AN: The phrase 'genio y figura hasta la sepultura' roughly translates to 'what's learned in the cradle lasts till the grave,' or 'old habits die hard,' but it mainly refers to the Scripture: 'A leopard cannot change its spots.']

Still looking him in the eye, I stated, "If it's available, Stephanie and I would like to have our wedding reception at Rosa's." There. I offered him the ultimate olive branch.

My father had barely taken a breath since I started talking. Now he let it out in a whoosh, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He stood up and then I stood and accepted the tight hug he drew me into. When we broke apart, my father, his lips pressed tightly together, could only nod. His head bobbed up and down rapidly as he took my hand in both of his and shook it. Then he finally found his voice and his words came out all in a rush.

"Mijo, you have made me the happiest man in the world. I will not let you or Estefánia down. My spots have truly changed. I will throw you the best wedding reception in the history of Rosa's. The best food, the best drinks, the most glorious decorations, the most popular band. Anything you want, just name it. Or leave it all to me and I will plan everything, all of your favorites and then some. It will be… fabuloso!" He was nearly breathless now and smiling the first genuine smile of the evening.

"I know it will, Papa. I'll leave it in your capable hands. And price is no object. I can afford to splurge to give my novia the grandest wedding reception possible. I'm only going to get married once and I want to do it in style."

"Oh no, mijo. This will be my gift to you and your beautiful bride. I owe Estefánia so much. And you… my son, to have you choose my restaurant for your most happiest of days, it is my dream come true. It is an honor and I agree, price is no object."

"Papa, this is nonnegotiable. I insist on paying for the food and drink and for the servers' time. There will be over 300 people in attendance and our friends and family can really pack away the food. If you want to waive the cost of Rosa's and your time, I will gratefully accept that as your wedding gift, but I insist on paying for the rest of it. Let's not fight over this. I want nothing but happy memories of the day I wed my beloved."

My father was silent as he listened to my words. I saw his jaw clench and then a sparkle come into his eyes. I knew he would agree to my demands tonight, but I also knew the bill for the reception he would finally submit to me wouldn't be the true bill. I mentally sighed.

"I reluctantly capitulate, mijo. Except for the desserts. They will be my personal gift to your bride, as she loves all things sweet."

I nodded and stuck out my hand. "We have a deal then. And you've got that right. Stephanie's dream meal would be one that included every type of dessert known to man. If you can give her even a tenth of that, you will make her happy. And when she's happy, I'm happy." We both smiled and shook hands.

"That is the true key to marital happiness, my son. Keep your lovely bride happy, make it a priority and your life together will be a happy one. It has taken me nearly 40 years to learn that lesson."

I walked my father to the door, thanking him again for the cigars. He left a very happy man and, I had to admit, I felt good, too.

TBC