Bob never could stop comparing the two women to whom he had been married. Perhaps this was just something that happened to all of those who had been married more than once, comparing the strengths and weaknesses of all of their spouses, and Bob felt somewhat guilty about it. Francesca didn't reek of tobacco, and she had more sophisticated interests than Selma, such as reading 17th century poetry, admiring the architecture of villas and palaces, and going to art galleries and the opera. Francesca did like television, as she would watch the occasional Italian drama series on TV, but the programs she enjoyed were not nearly as tedious and poorly written as Selma's precious MacGyver.
The biggest difference between Selma and Francesca was their looks, and the way they carried themselves. Francesca moved with so much grace and passion, unlike Selma's inelegant and unenthusiastic shuffling. Their wedding had been a bit more boisterous than Bob would have liked, with that tradition group dance that was performed at Italian weddings, the tarantella. Basically, the wedding party would dance in a big circle, and Francesca smiled and laughed throughout the whole thing.
Selma didn't laugh much, and when she did, it always grated on Bob's ears. Francesca's laugh was practically a wordless song.
Bob and Francesca's first wedding dance by themselves was as close to perfect as anything Bob had ever experienced. Francesca wore a traditional Tuscan wedding outfit, which was a black dress and a white hat, and she never took her gaze off Bob. The newlyweds seemed to move in near-perfect synchronization, with Francesca being extra careful not to step on Bob's toes. As Francesca's feet were smaller and daintier than Selma's, it would not have hurt as much for Bob to have his toes stepped on by Francesca. Still, Bob greatly appreciated how considerate Francesca was acting towards him. Selma expected Bob to treat her like a queen, and didn't pay much attention to his wants and needs at all.
As the dance ended, Bob and Francesca held each other close, with Bob relishing the feel of his new bride's tender embrace as Francesca ran her pretty, slender fingers delicately through Bob's thick hair. Francesca could make Bob like anything about himself, even his ridiculous hairstyle.
Italian wedding could last for hours, and eventually Bob and Francesca found themselves the only clear-headed and fully awake ones at the reception. Bob no longer wore the tie he'd had on as part of his wedding suit (it was traditional for a bridegroom in Italy to cut up and sell pieces of his tie to pay for the wedding), and Francesca was missing one of her black slippers. As in America, there was a wedding tradition that the groom take off the bride's garter, but Bob thought that was a vulgar tradition (and he really hadn't enjoyed doing that with Selma, to say the least-she pretty much badgered him into taking off her garter). A shoe was an acceptable substitute.
"Ti amo, Roberto," Francesca murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Ti amo, mia cara," Bob said, wrapping his arm around his bride.