The wedding would have been the envy of any woman with a romantic heart. Even Sunni would have been envious, if it hadn’t been her wedding. When they visited Jacob’s farm in Rhode Island in the spring, Sunni was amazed to find a field full of wildflowers that exactly matched the vision she’d had while she was hovering between life and death in the alley in San Francisco. She knew right away that this was where her wedding should be held. But there was one little snafu. Jacob hadn’t asked her to marry him. So she threw herself down on one knee amidst the primroses, goldenrods, and black-eyed susans, and proposed to him.
Jacob laughed, but he seemed taken aback, and didn’t immediately answer.
“What’s wrong?” Sunni asked, feeling chagrined.
“I thought you didn’t want to get married,” Jacob said.
“I do, and I want to do it before these flowers die,” she said.
So two weeks later, after a whirlwind of preparations, they gathered in the field, under a three-hundred-year old oak tree that still bore the initials Jacob’s son had carved into it with his penknife. Jacob’s half brother Isaiah played a happy tune on the fiddle while Sunni walked in, holding a bouquet of yellow tulips tied with a white ribbon. She was flanked by Isabel and Delia, who had been told to wear whatever they wanted, so Isabel was as conspicuous as a stop sign in a hot pink sundress, while Delia had opted for a little black dress.
Sunni, following her vision, wore a 1920s tea dress of white handkerchief linen, fine and thin as tissue paper, and Jacob a white linen shirt, untucked and open at the neck. A small band of friends and relatives encircled them, a ragtag blend of humans and vampires, although most of the humans didn’t know they were in supernatural company.
Scipio, dressed in a Roman toga, welcomed the
group in a sonorous baritone that made Sunni wish she’d organized a
longer ceremony. He called Enzo, and the vampire came to stand in
front of Sunni and Jacob. He had dressed for the occasion in a
blinding white suit with a black shirt and red tie. He bowed deeply
to them and recited a love poem by Dante Aligheri.
De gli occhi de la mia donna si move
un lume sì gentil, che
dove appare …
As he continued, his voice low and caressing, Scipio began to weep. Sunni glanced at Jacob in alarm. She had seen Jacob cry tears of blood, and one of her greatest fears was that the wedding would incite the vampires to gush crimson fountains out of their eyes that would make everyone who wasn’t a vampire think that some kind of biological weapon had been deployed. But Jacob had explained that the blood tears only happened when a vampire was in the deepest extremes of emotion, and the sentimental happiness of a wedding would produce only normal lacrimation.
“And now I will recite the poem in English,” Enzo said.
Jacob held up a hand. “That’s all right, my friend, I will do it. ”
Enzo raised his eyebrows in surprise, as this
hadn’t been part of their preparations. As he stepped back into the
crowd, Jacob took both of Sunni’s hands in his.
My lady’s eyes shine forth so dear a light
That, wheresoe’er its gentleness appears,
A world is soon beyond description seen,
Such is the wonder of their blissful height.
Jacob’s eyes glistened as he gazed at his soon-to-be wife. “Everything in the world is more beautiful when I experience it with you, my love.”
They exchanged simple gold bands, and then they kissed. The kiss was so long and so profound that Sunni forgot where she was and what she was doing. The young vampire, Patrick, who had been hiding out under the shade of the oak tree, let out a whoop that finally broke them apart. When Sunni turned to look at him she saw Patrick handing her assistant, Carl, a handkerchief to dry his tears.
Sunni learned at the reception that vampires love to dance. Any ungainliness they might have had while human was erased, and they never got tired or developed blisters. At midnight Sunni finally called a break so that she could throw the bouquet, and it landed squarely in the strong and steady arms of Isabel, who exchanged a knowing look with the boyfriend she’d brought from San Francisco.
Finally the party was over and everyone had gone home. Sunni and Jacob sat together on the couch in the small, formal parlor of his colonial farmhouse. The house was wired for electricity, but now the only light was from the moon gleaming through the wavy glass of the tall mullioned windows. Sunni leaned against Jacob’s chest, her ankles propped on the arm of the stiff satin sofa, a glass of champagne in her hand.
“We’re going to need some new furniture,” Sunni said.
“What’s wrong with this furniture?” Jacob patted the back of the sofa, and a cloud of dust was released into the air. “I thought you liked old things. ”
Sunni leaned her head back. She pulled Jacob to her and gave him a lingering kiss. “I love old things,” she murmured. “But this sofa is awful. When’s it from, 1860? That was the worst era for furniture.”
“It serves its purpose.” Jacob slid his hand up Sunni’s bare leg. “I think we could do anything we wanted on this sofa.”
“Could we make a baby?”
The progress of Jacob’s hand stopped at mid-thigh. His face grew serious. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yes. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I just didn’t know it until I met you.” She nudged his hand so that it continued on its way. “And it’s not illegal anymore. The Council has changed the rules, thanks to you.”
“And to you,” Jacob said, his lips against her mouth. “The old ways are giving way to the new.” His tongue was warm, slick and velvety, and Sunni felt herself start to melt.
“I would be the happiest man in the world, to have a family with you, Sunni,” Jacob said, his voice thick with emotion.
Sunni carefully placed her champagne flute on the worn wooden floor, and then sat up so that she was straddling Jacob’s lap. She slid both hands under his loose shirt, feeling the hard ridges of muscle in his abdomen, and higher, until they rested on his chest. His heart was pounding hard, and his breath came in shallow, labored pants. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her so hard she tasted blood, but she didn’t back away. She jerked her arms so that the buttons popped off his shirt, and he laughed without taking his lips off of hers. She filled her fists with his thick, wild hair. And then they were making love, and everything old was new again.