The Game of Denial (15 page)

"Evey is working with a horse that balks at water jumps," Joan continued.

"Only the jumps with a downhill slide," Evey hastened to mention.

"Perhaps while you're here you could give her some advice." Joan saw the look in Evey's eyes and added, "If you wanted it, of course."

"I can use all the help I can get and would appreciate any advice you might have," Evey said. She looked back at Joan. "I'm not experienced enough yet to be a threat to anyone."

"Gerard!" a voice boomed.

Everyone looked up to see Ron storm through the front door and hurry down the steps. "I thought I heard that sexy accent no woman can resist," Ron said as the two men embraced one another before they began laughing and talking at the same time.

Joan leaned closer to Evey and said, "Hard to believe those two are the foundation of my family, isn't it?"

"I think they're charming," Evey said.

"I hope neither of them heard that or their heads will swell to the size of pumpkins," Claudine observed dryly, eliciting a laugh from Joan and Evey.

Joan placed her hand on Evey's arm to get her attention. "I didn't mean to offend you by asking Gerard to help you. If I did, I apologize."

"You didn't." Evey turned her head toward Joan and caught her eye. "You didn't," she repeated as if to reassure Joan she hadn't done anything wrong. Joan's eyes widened when Evey's hand stroked over hers lightly.

"Oh, sorry," Joan said when she realized her own hand was still on Evey's arm.

"Dr. Nagle will be here in a couple of hours," Evey said. "Would...would you help me set things up for the rehearsal?"

"With anything," Joan said.

Joan was snapped out of the magnetic pull of Evey's eyes by a sudden slap on her shoulder.

"Mom's getting tired," Ron said. "Is there anything I can help with before we head back to the hotel?"

"Uh, no," Joan said with a final glance at Evey, who had already turned away. "We'll call when we're on our way for dinner."

"Gerard and Claudine are going to grab a power nap before then. We probably will as well."

Joan gave a hug and kiss to the two couples and helped Luella to the car.

"I apologized to Mrs. Chase for any misunderstanding," Luella said without looking at Joan. "I hope you're happy."

"Thank you, Mother," Joan said.

Chapter Thirteen

WITH ONLY A few logistical changes Joan, Evey and their respective families arrived at the Shenandoah Hotel to enjoy the dinner scheduled to take place following the wedding rehearsal. Under the direction of Dr. Nagle, everything had gone flawlessly and ended on time. Fran had been a little nervous, but Brad seemed to take everything in stride as he reassured his bride that the ceremony would be perfect. In less than twenty-four hours they would be beginning their new life together.

Joan lifted Morgana from the rear seat of Evey's suburban and waited patiently as Mitchell clambered over the back seat and jumped to the ground. Joan couldn't hold back a laugh as Mitchell stretched his body as tall as possible, adjusted his miniature sport coat and tie, and offered her his arm after she lowered Morgana to the ground and took her hand. He seemed proud as he escorted his grandmother into the lobby of the hotel and down the hallway to the dining room. Mitchell walked around the table and stopped behind an empty seat next to Evey. She couldn't hold back a broad smile that lit up her face.

Joan waited for Mitchell to pull the seat out slightly and stepped forward to be seated. She subtly assisted him in pulling her chair forward before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then she nodded and said, "Thank you, Mr. Carmichael. You are truly a gentleman." The look on his face was priceless. Unexpectedly, he moved behind Evey's seat and held it as she sat as well. Evey also dropped a kiss on his cheek and smiled as he made his way toward where his parents and sister were seated across from her.

"How long have you been rehearsing that?" Joan asked as a server placed a salad in front of her.

Tucker looked at Giselle. "All day?" he asked.

"Most of the day," Giselle said.

"Well, Mitchell did an excellent job as an escort," Joan said and winked at her grandson before turning her attention to her salad.

"I thought the rehearsal went very well, don't you?" Evey asked as she speared a grape tomato.

Joan nodded as she chewed and then swallowed. "I like Dr. Nagle," she answered. "He was certainly in control and kept everything moving quite well."

"What he said made sense," Evey said. "I mean a wedding is supposed to be a happy event and small problems that may come up during the ceremony shouldn't detract from that."

"I couldn't agree more. All that really matters is the end result. I think this ceremony will be wonderful."

Light conversation filled the rest of the dinner and was followed by a short series of toasts to the bride and groom and to their parents. Joan was glad she had consumed a filling meal before the toasts began. Regardless, the myriad of events that had taken place during the day had left her feeling tired. More than once she had to suppress a yawn. The only thing that had kept her awake throughout the meal was the feel of Evey's leg brushing against the side of her thigh when she turned to speak to someone. Joan wondered if everyone else in the room was feeling a little warm. Finally Chris announced that it was time for the ladies and children to depart. The bachelor party would soon be under way. He promised the party wouldn't go on too long and that Brad, Tully, and Tucker would return to the farm relatively sober and before dawn. Joan was surprised when Luella invited Anita and Claudine to her room for a more sedate party of their own.

After everyone agreed who would be in which vehicle and which one would be left behind for Brad, Tully, and Tucker, hugs and kisses were exchanged. Joan was halfway through the lobby when she excused herself and promised to join them in a moment. She walked back to the dining room and found Anita.

"Whatcha need, Joan?" Anita asked when she joined her in the hallway.

"You don't have to do this, Anita, but I would appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on Mother and not let her stay up too late," Joan said.

Anita waved her hand in the air between them. "I got it all under control," she said. "She can be a little ornery, but she don't mean half of what she says. Personally, I think she's afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing control. Even when she's not, she needs to think she is. Then everything will be okey dokey. Running the company's getting to be too much for her, bless her heart. We'll have to find her a new job."

"Ron's lucky to have you, Anita. Too bad it took him so long."

"Ain't that the truth," Anita said. "But it's never too late to be happy."

Satisfied that Luella was in good hands, Joan walked back into the lobby. Before she could get through the front doors of the hotel, she heard someone call her name. She glanced around and saw Monica standing in an alcove in the lobby. Monica's hair was pulled back and held in place near her temples with tortoiseshell clips. Joan noticed that her dress hugged her figure in all the right places. A French-tipped finger motioned Joan toward the shadowed alcove.

"Aren't you going to wish me a good night too, Joan?" Monica asked.

Joan paused before answering and finally nodded. "Good night, Monica," she said. "Rest well."

Monica used the same finger to slowly draw a line down the front of Joan's blouse, hesitating when it moved between her breasts. "I'd rest much better if you stayed in town with me tonight," she said.

"While that sounds like a delightful offer, I need to actually rest tonight."

Monica ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. "I promise to let you sleep...eventually."

Joan exhaled loudly in frustration. She narrowed her eyes and made sure she had the redhead's attention. "There are probably many women out there somewhere who would be more than willing to crawl into your undies, Monica, but I am not one of them."

JOAN WAS SO tangled up with Monica that she didn't see or hear Evey re-enter the hotel. Evey heard Joan's voice and knew she should have turned around and left. But curiosity was more than she could stand. When she heard Joan use Monica's name she ducked into an antique phone booth that served as part of the lobby's décor and pressed her body against its back wall.

"I don't understand you, Joan," Monica said. "Would it be so horrible to be with me? You know I would give you anything you wanted. I've waited a long time for you. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Evey's blood boiled at the sound of what might have been the rustling of material, accompanied by heavier breathing. Maybe she should make her presence known and save Joan from the clutches of the attractive and manipulative seductress. Then Monica made a fatal error.

"Let me make you forget Martine for just one night," Monica said as her lips grazed near Joan's ear.

Joan pushed Monica away. "I've already had the best and nothing you do can top that, honey." She whirled around and started to leave the lobby, then stopped and stepped toward Monica again. "And I'd appreciate it if you would stop these sophomoric come-ons before it becomes embarrassing to both of us."

When Joan turned away the second time, Monica said, "You've found someone else, haven't you?"

Joan stopped and Evey held her breath, praying Joan wouldn't turn in her direction. The power of prayer failed again as Joan turned her head to face Monica. She saw Evey pressed into the old phone booth and paused for a split second as their eyes met.

"What did you say?" Joan asked.

"I said you've found someone else to care for."

With her eyes still locked on Evey's, Joan said, "There is someone I've come to care about very much."

"I knew it!" Monica stepped out of the alcove and grabbed Joan's arm. "It's that blonde." Suddenly Monica released Joan's arm and backed away, covering her mouth with her fingertips. "It's...it's Fran's mother-in-law. Oh, my God!"

Joan closed her eyes, breaking the connection with Evey. Evey felt the muscles in her legs seem to dissolve as she struggled to remain standing. She was snapped back to reality by Monica's voice.

Monica overcame her shock and rested a hand on Joan's shoulder. Evey watched Joan stiffen under the touch as Monica leaned closer. "You know where to find me after you get over this inconvenient infatuation. You know you can't have her because she's not like us and I've never known you to fight a battle that can't be won. Sleep well, darling."

Joan pulled away and stalked out of the hotel. After she recovered her composure and was sure Monica was no longer in the lobby, Evey exited the hotel in time to see Joan get into Fran's car with Charmaine and Meg. Evey climbed into Beth's vehicle and leaned her head against the seat.

"Tired?" Beth asked.

"Drained," Evey answered.

"I'll wake you when we get home," Beth said as she patted Evey's leg. "It'll all be over soon and we can return to normal again."

Evey wondered if anything would ever be "˜normal' again.

Chapter Fourteen

JOAN MANAGED TO make it through the next morning and early afternoon without running into Evey. She didn't know what she'd say if she did. Evey had overheard at least part of her discussion with Monica the night before and when she was looking into Evey's eyes she knew she wouldn't believe her denial.

The second floor of the Chase home had taken on a whole new identity since the previous day. Joan seemed to move through surreal scenes. Beth, Meg, and Charmaine were like hyper-driven gnomes, making sure everything was right and that Fran was perfect for the ceremony. Joan hadn't had breakfast or lunch. She refused to go downstairs to greet guests as they began arriving an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin. Other than accepting one or two cups of coffee that Charmaine foisted upon her, Joan didn't think she would ever eat again.

In a rare move, Joan clasped her hands together and prayed. Not to any unknown entity, but to Martine. Martine would know what to do. She had always been the rock upon which their lives had been built. Strong, reasonable, impervious to doubts. Joan had never needed Martine more than she did now. She needed to feel that strength that had sustained her through her own crises. But, as with most prayers, no slap-you-in-face answers had come.

JOAN TOOK A deep breath as she buttoned the top button of the stark white tuxedo shirt and inserted the ebony button inserts. She folded the cuff of each sleeve and matched the buttonholes before slipping a matching ebony cufflink in each sleeve. She tucked the shirt tail into the smooth, dove gray trousers and hooked the waist closure. The pants fell comfortably down her long legs, the hems leaving only a small fold as they draped over the tops of her shiny black slip-on shoes. She shrugged the tuxedo vest on, admiring the various gray tones that formed a light paisley design. She turned her shirt collar up and looped a solid dove gray silk tie around her neck, expertly creating a wide Windsor knot. She smiled as she adjusted the knot and folded the shirt collar down. She tucked the tie into the vest front, running her hand over the material, remembering the way Martine used to pat her on the chest when she finished adjusting Joan's tie. Oh, baby, she thought. I wish you could see Fran. She's such a beautiful woman. If she's half as happy as we were, her life will be blessed. Our life together ended too soon.

Joan took a deep breath, slid the charcoal gray tuxedo coat up her arms, and drew it over her broad shoulders. Fran had insisted that no one see either Joan or herself until the actual ceremony began. No one, not even Joan had seen Fran's wedding dress. It had been sealed inside an opaque carrying bag when it was delivered two days earlier. Now, with the assistance of her bridesmaids, Fran was preparing for what would be one of the most memorable days in her young life.

Joan went to her bedroom window overlooking the area that would be the site of the wedding. The weather was cool and refreshing with a hint of a breeze. She pulled back the curtain with the tips of her fingers and gazed down at the people gathering. She noticed heads occasionally turning, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bride. Joan looked over her shoulder at the clock hanging on the far wall. Not much time left. A knock at her bedroom door confirmed that it was almost time for Frannie to make her entrance. Joan pressed her hand against her nervous stomach to stop the fluttering she felt. She cleared her throat and walked to the door. Charmaine started to say something, but the words froze in her throat. She looked lovely in the apricot bridesmaid gown Fran had chosen.