Party of Four

A Taste of Romance: Riley

My mom scheduling the venue tour for Tuesday worked perfectly. It was the only day of the week I had off that Cole and Nica were both scheduled to work. I came out of my room, dressed for the tour, to see my mom locking the patio door behind her. She radiated excitement as she smiled up at me. I came down the stairs, and she met me in the entryway.

“I really think Nica would love this,” she said as we walked out to my Sportage. “It really does have that gothic elegance…like Phantom of the Opera or Interview with the Vampire.”

I nodded my agreement as I buckled my seatbelt. I had only been to The Castellano Theater a couple few times. I’d seen a couple of concerts there, as well as a performance of Chicago. It always gave ancient and haunted, and with Nica’s love for horror, and all of our shared love for performance, I thought it could potentially be the best pick. I just wasn’t sure of the logistics of having an actual wedding there.

A half hour later, we pulled into the parking garage and crossed the street. On the outside, the theater’s stucco walls held a bright marquee board. Posters of upcoming shows were held in lit frames on either side of the heavy wooden double doors. Decorative, wrought iron grates covered the windows, and lanterns were placed above the doors.

Inside, the theater was even more dramatic. Lanterns were spaced around the spacious lobby. A row of ticket windows framed in dark wood were to our left. Straight ahead was a grand staircase with a wrought iron railing that curved towards the upper floor. Three sets of heavy wooden double doors led to the theater auditorium. A plush, dark crimson red carpet covered the floor.

A woman greeted us with a friendly smile. She looked like she might’ve only been a few years older than my mom. Her black hair was peppered with gray and rested on her shoulders in loose waves. She wore very little makeup, and the skin around her eyes crinkled then she smiled. She was dressed simply, black slacks, black loafers, a cream blouse, and a gold name tag glinting in the dim lights. “You must be the Hollands,” she crossed the room towards us. “I’m Carmen Delgado. I’ve been the event coordinator and the box office manager for The Castellano for the last thirty-five years. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thirty-five years?” I asked before I could stop myself, my eyebrows shooting up. “Have you seen any ghosts here?”

My mom gave me a sharp nudge with her elbow, “Please excuse my son, Mrs. Delgado. He doesn’t think before he speaks.”

She just laughed, her head tilting back slightly as her eyes crinkled again. “Oh, I have stories you wouldn’t believe,” she grinned. “And please, call me Carmen. Now, why don’t we go to my office.” She motioned us back towards the door by the ticket windows, and I followed behind her and my mom.

The theater truly was spacious and elegant, just from what I’d seen so far. I could already imagine Nica posing dramatically at the foot of the stairs, a glittering gown trailing behind her, a bouquet of crimson dahlias and pale pink peonies on her hand.

We sat in small wooden arm chairs that had crimson seat cushions in front of Carmen’s desk. Carmen’s desk chair was potentially the only modern thing in the building, not counting the computers. I remained mostly quiet while my mom and her discussed the logistics of catering access and decorating.

My mom agreed that while the theater’s architecture was stunning, and nothing would be hung on the walls, there would still be a need for additional decor. She explained her vision of towering candelabras, dark, dramatic floral displays, and an arch at the “altar.” Meanwhile, Carmen explained how at one point in time, the Castellano had been a dinner theater before the tables and chairs were removed and traditional theater seating was installed. Though the kitchen was still fully equipped and often used to feed cast and crews for productions that took place in the theater. Therefore, whatever catering company we used would have full access to the on-site kitchen. Plus, they still had the tables and chairs in storage.

“What do you think?” my mom asked, turning to me. Even though it was supposed to be her project, I had become her co-conspirator.

I blinked, sighing softly before I admitted, “I want to say it’s perfect, but I’m struggling to see how it could work for a wedding.”

“Let me give you a full tour before you make your decision,” Carmen said, rising from her desk. “Once you see the full scope of the theater, then you may be able to see your vision fully.”

I nodded and we followed her back into the lobby.

“Through here is the auditorium,” Carmen told us as she led us through one of the sets of double doors and down to the stage. “We can close off the upper floor prior to the ceremony so that all of your guests sit down here rather than in the balcony. The ceremony can be set up so that the bridal party either enters from the wings, already on the stage. Or we can place steps at the front of the stage and the bridal party can enter the auditorium from the central aisle.”

Carmen led us up the small set of side steps onto the stage and waited, giving us the opportunity to visualize what she was saying before she continued. “If you choose the center aisle entry, the altar can be set up on the stage facing the audience.” It made an overwhelming amount of sense.

She continued the tour, leading us backstage. She showed us the dressing rooms and the green room where the bridal party could dress and gather before the ceremony. Then the kitchen that was still in-use. Next, we were led upstairs through a secondary staircase meant for staff, cast, and crew members. “Up here, there’s a sitting room that can be used as the bridal suite prior to the ceremony. So your fiancé will be able to enter the auditorium without being seen regardless of which entry set-up you choose.”

The sitting room/bridal suite was just as nice as the rest of the theater, dark wood furniture was scattered throughout the room, a large balcony overlooked a small garden behind the theater. It was hard to not want to have the wedding here. “Most couples choose to have a brief cocktail hour in the garden while the auditorium is transformed for the reception. Or, if it rains, they have the cocktail hour upstairs.”

“How would the auditorium be transformed?” I ask.

“Part of the rental fee for the theater includes being able to pay theater staff during the event. So they’d be here to move tables, chairs, and decor. Depending on the size of your wedding, how many guests are attending, most of the weddings have had half the stage set up with tables and chairs, and half set up for dancing. It works really well for weddings under fifty guests. Though we have had receptions set up in the mezzanine instead.”

I looked at my mom and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was. It was perfect. It was easily adaptable to whatever needs we had, and it was the perfect place for Nica to face the gothic romance wedding Alan had denied her before. “I don’t think we even need to look at the vineyard,” I answered the unasked question that had passed between us.

Carmen smiled, a knowing, thirty-five year veteran, smile.

“We’ll take it,” my mom said decisively. “We’re ready to put down a deposit for a weekend in October of next year.”

While my mom and Carmen finalized the details of the contract, I stayed in the lobby. I ran my hand over the cool, swirling wrought iron railing of the staircase. The building had witnessed centuries of drama, passion, and spectacle. It was the perfect container for the commitment of our own love story.

This wasn’t just a wedding we were planning. It was a performance, a declaration, and a finding of sanctuary all at once. For Nica, this was the ultimate validation. For Cole and me, it was the physical manifestation of the promise we made. A bond formalized under high ceilings and dark wood.

The planning was becoming intense, but it didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like the most important project of my life. The baby shower has been about bringing Poppy into our already existing family, the wedding would be about cementing our future.