Page 114 of Ice Ice Maybe
I squeezed her hand. “Just reliving the moment. I still can’t believe it happened.”
“It happened, and you were amazing,” she said with a smile. “And I’ve got a recording of the broadcast, so we can watch it as much as we want.”
“You’re the best, you know that?” I leaned in to kiss her.
“I know.” Zena winked.
“We need to finish up here,” Mr. Dalton suddenly said. “The tour boat leaves in twenty minutes.”
“We don’t want to miss it!” Mrs. Dalton said with a smile.
As we finished our last slices of pizza, my thoughts drifted to the evening ahead. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation for the vow renewal ceremony later that evening. Zena and I had been speculating for weeks about what her parents had planned, given their penchant for luxury. Whatever it was, I was sure it would be nothing short of spectacular.
But the genuine thrill came from the surprise I had in store for Zena after the vow renewal dinner. Thinking about it sent a jolt of electricity through my body, like the surge of adrenaline right before I had hopped on the ice in Dallas. She had no idea what was coming, and keeping this secret hadn’t been easy.
We made our way to the tour boat, the Bay of Naples sparkling like a sea of sapphires under the brilliant afternoon sun. The excited chatter of our group mingled with the cries of circling seagulls and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the dock.
I gestured to the uneven ramp as we boarded the boat. “Watch your step.”
“Such a gentleman,” Zena said.
The two-hour cruise along the Neapolitan coast was nothing short of breathtaking. As we left the bustling port of Naples, brightly painted fishing boats bobbed in the waters, their reflections shimmering on the surface.
We cruised past Sorrento, perched high on the cliffs, while Zena stood at the railing, her face aglow with wonder. I joined her, our fingers lacing naturally as we took in the awe-inspiring views. The coastline unfurled before us like a living postcard, pastel-hued houses clinging to sun-kissed cliffs.
“I never imagined it would be this beautiful,” she said as she scanned the coastline and inhaled a breath of fresh sea air.
I squeezed her hand, captivated as much by the joy radiating from her as by the scenery itself.
“It’s incredible,” I agreed, though I wasn’t just talking about the landscape. “And this is just the beginning.”
Over the next few weeks, we would explore Italy’s rich tapestry of history, culture, and cuisine. From the ancient world of Pompeii, to Rome, Florence, Venice, and the Amalfi Coast, this incredible journey wasn’t only a vacation; it was a celebration of love, not just the Daltons’, but ours as well.
Four hours after the boat tour, and after a whirlwind of excited preparation at the hotel, we stood on the threshold of something magical,Castello Medioevale.I found myself in awe of the scene before me. The ancient stone walls of the ninth-century castle, built by the Duke of Sorrento, stood as a testament to enduring love, fitting for the celebration we were about to witness.
“Ready for an unforgettable evening?” I asked.
Zena smiled at me. “With you? Always.”
Little did she know how unforgettable this night would be.
Mr. and Mrs. Dalton stood hand in hand before the castle’s tower, silhouetted against the breathtaking panorama of theGulf of Naples. It was the same view that had inspired artists for centuries.
Father Giuseppe, an older Italian gentleman with twinkling eyes and an infectious smile, began the ceremony. His accented English added a charming authenticity to the proceedings.
“Welcome, welcome, my friends!” He beamed, his arms spread wide. “We gather here today in this beautifulcastello, where love has flourished for centuries.” Father Giuseppe paused, gazing at all of us, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Now, I must confess, when I first heard about a vow renewal, I thought perhaps someone had forgotten their promises and needed a reminder!” He winked at Mr. Dalton. “But no, no! These two have not forgotten. Instead, they wish to reaffirm their love, to show us all that trueamoreis not just for the young, but also for the young at heart.”
Father Giuseppe turned to the guests, his smile wide. “Now, let us witness as these two lovebirds—or perhaps sea lions is a much better term—renew their commitment to each other. And remember, if you hear a rumbling, do not worry! It is not Mount Vesuvius awakening, but merely the sound of two hearts beating as one!”
We laughed, then Father Giuseppe turned back to Zena’s parents, ready to begin the ceremony. The mix of humor and heartfelt sincerity in his words set the perfect tone for the joyous occasion that unfolded and segued beautifully into their vows.
“Thirty years ago,” Mr. Dalton began, his voice filled with emotion, “I promised to love you through all of life’s seasons. Today, I stand here, grateful for every moment, the sunshine and the storms, that we’ve weathered together. You are my anchor, my compass, and my home.”
Mrs. Dalton’s eyes sparkled brightly as she responded, “Three decades have flown by in the blink of an eye, yet I fall more and more in love with you each day. You’ve beenmy greatest adventure, my staunchest supporter, and my truest friend. I vow to continue growing with you, laughing with you, and loving you for all the days to come.”
As they sealed their renewed vows with a kiss, the sky turned to hues of pink and orange, as if nature itself were celebrating their love. We erupted in applause and cheers, and I felt Zena’s hand squeeze mine, her eyes misty with happy tears.
The wedding planner led us to a few picturesque spots around the castle for photos. Our first stop was the ancient drawbridge. The wood, worn smooth by centuries of use, creaked softly under our feet as the rusted iron chains hung on either side.
