The Game of Denial (16 page)

Finally Charmaine said, "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

Joan cleared her throat again and swept a hand threw her hair, letting it fall casually back to her forehead. She reached out and brought Charmaine close against her for a hug. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart," she said.

"You look freakin' hot and you smell divine. New perfume?"

"I've been saving it for a special day like today."

Meg rushed into the hallway and Joan stared at her. For the first time in months everything matched and Meg's hair was its natural light brown color. "Damn," Joan breathed. "I wish your Mama was here." She glanced at Charmaine. "Please tell me she's not wearing those hideous lime green flip-flops under that gown."

"I checked. She's clean."

Before they could say anything else, music wafted up the stairs, the signal that the guests should take their seats. "Showtime!" Meg announced. She looked at her mother and smiled. "You cleaned up good, Mom."

"Thanks. You, too, dear."

"Let's knock "˜em dead."

Joan closed the door to her bedroom and walked to the room where Fran would be waiting. As she stood in the doorway, Fran was looking at herself in a large, free-standing beveled mirror while Beth placed a final sprig of baby's breath into a crown of flowers encircling her head. She turned slowly and Charmaine and Meg hurried to arrange the train of her wedding gown behind her. Joan entered the room and rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"Brad is a lucky man," Joan said. "You're beautiful."

"Do you like the gown?"

"It looks magnificent on you. Mama would be honored and crying a bucket of happy tears by now."

Joan had recognized the gown immediately. She and Martine celebrated their union years before and Martine wore the same gown, although it had been slightly altered for Fran. Everything about it was soft and screamed femininity. The pearls and lace across the bodice were exquisite. A white train trailed behind Fran from her shoulders to the floor. Everything about the gown was simple, but elegant. Joan took the gold cross that hung around Fran's neck in her hand. She brought it to her lips and dropped a kiss on it before placing it back against Fran's throat. "You honor her in every way," Joan said with a brief hug. "We better go before I ruin your make-up."

Beth flipped open a long box and handed Fran a bouquet of flowers that draped in front of her gown and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then Beth, Charmaine, and Meg stepped out of the room and led Joan and Fran down the staircase. One by one the three young women met with Chris, Tucker, and Tully to be escorted to the grove of trees that would serve as the setting for the ceremony. Then the sound of the music grew in intensity to announce the imminent arrival of the bride. Joan could hear the movement of chairs as the guests stood. She helped Fran down the stairs and smiled as her daughter took her left arm. Joan placed her hand on top of Fran's and they began their slow walk. They moved around a gentle curve in the walkway and into the sight of the guests. Joan heard soft gasps as the rows of people caught their first glimpse of Fran. Joan had never felt so proud. Brad beamed with happiness as Fran and Joan moved closer to where he waited. Joan shifted her eyes slightly to the right and felt her heart beat quicken when she saw Evey. There were tears in her eyes and she dabbed at them carefully.

Joan was calm, but proud as Fran gripped her arm and no one could miss the look of love that passed between the mother and daughter as Joan escorted Fran down the aisle beneath the shaded grove of trees. Brad stepped forward and couldn't take his eyes off his bride.

"Who gives this woman to be joined with this man?" Doctor Nagle asked loud enough to be heard.

"I do," Joan said clearly. She took Fran's hand and kissed it before offering it to Brad. She moved back a step and slid to her left to join the rest of her family, casting a glance at Evey who was standing across the aisle. Nagle offered a brief, appropriate prayer and allowed the assembled guests to be seated.

Later, Joan wouldn't remember much about the actual ceremony. It was mostly the usual things that were said at weddings, minus the obey part as requested. She spent most of her time looking at Fran and occasionally smiling across the aisle at Evey. She was startled when Luella patted her thigh and let her hand rest there most of the ceremony. Joan relaxed and covered Luella's hand with her own. Finally Brad and Fran were declared legally man and wife and Brad kissed his bride. The recessional music began and everyone stood again. Fran stopped to present Evey with a flower from her bouquet, along with a hug and kiss. Then she turned to repeat the gesture with Joan. After the bridesmaids and groomsmen went quickly down the aisle, Joan stepped across the aisle and offered her arm to Evey, who took it shyly.

Chapter Fifteen

JOAN WAS SEMI-LOUNGING in a chair enjoying the festivities with a glass of wine, giving her feet a rest. Toasts had been made and Joan smiled as Brad and Fran stepped onto the small dance floor for the first dance. Halfway through other couples were invited to join them. Luella tapped Joan on the shoulder. "Dance with an old lady?" she asked.

Joan nodded and escorted her mother onto the floor. The music was slow and romantic and Joan was careful not to attempt anything too fancy.

"I'm not sure if this is appropriate or not, Joan, but you look incredibly handsome in this tuxedo," Luella smiled.

"It's what all us dykes wear on special occasions, Ma," Joan said. Then she cleared her throat and added, "Martine selected it years ago for our ceremony. I'm surprised it still fits."

"Charmaine tells me Fran's wedding gown was her...mother's."

"Same ceremony, same gown. It makes Fran feel close to Martine. If it makes Fran happy that's all that matters to me."

"You're a good parent, Joan."

Joan gazed down at her mother and rasped out, "Thank you."

Luella took a resigned sigh and added, "And so was your wife."

When the music ended, Joan escorted Luella back to their table and bent down to give her a light kiss on the cheek before picking up her wine glass again. She needed a drink to keep from breaking down in a flood of tears. For the first time, in her own way, Luella had finally acknowledged Martine and Joan's relationship for what it had been, a marriage. It may have been said in a moment of sentimentality, but Joan could live with that. Her head came up when she heard the beginning of "I've Had the Time My Life." Fran walked toward Joan and stopped at the edge of the dance floor and held out her hand. Tears gathered in Joan's eyes again as she paused a few moments before walking toward Fran. The song had been Martine's favorite. Joan wrapped her arm around Fran and held her close as they danced.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I hope you have the time of your life for many years to come," Joan said. "We both love you so much."

"I love you, Mom," Fran said. "Because of you and Mama I know what a marriage is supposed to be."

As the tempo of the music grew, Joan led Fran flawlessly around the floor, noticing that other dancers had stopped and moved off the floor to watch them. When the music ended, Joan hugged her daughter fiercely and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

EVEY WATCHED THE two women dance gracefully and knew the song must have a special meaning for them. For a moment she wondered once again what it would feel like to have Joan's arms around her. She picked up her glass of wine and swallowed it in three large gulps, shaking her head when she finished.

As the evening progressed Joan danced with Charmaine, Meg, and her grandchildren as well. Each dance was followed by another glass of wine on the warm evening. Evey was talking with Millie and Harlan Grisham when her attention was drawn back to the dance floor as Millie raised an eyebrow. Joan was dancing with Monica Ashford and holding her close to her body while Monica appeared to be whispering to her. The music was a slow pace and Monica seemed to be taking advantage of it. She unbuttoned Joan's tuxedo jacket and vest and slid her hand inside and around Joan's waist. Joan laughed at something Monica said before bringing her face against Joan's neck. Evey felt a twinge of jealousy and frowned. Monica Ashford had been blatantly pursuing Joan since her arrival. There seemed to be a double meaning to everything she said to the quiet woman. When the dance ended, Joan stepped away from Monica and re-buttoned her jacket. Evey saw Monica's lower lip protrude slightly as if she were pouting.

"Looks like Monica's turning up the heat," a low voice said, bringing Evey's attention back to her table. Millie and Harlan were gone, but Charmaine was now seated next to her.

"What do you mean?" Evey asked.

"Monica might get lucky tonight. Mom's put away several glasses of this excellent wine and it's been a very long time since she's been...with anyone," Charmaine said as she lifted her glass to her lips. She watched as Monica slid her hand down Joan's arm to lead her away from the celebration. "Mom will hate herself in the morning," Charmaine said into her glass.

"Excuse me," Evey said politely, standing and straightening the skirt of her dress before walking in the direction Joan and Monica had taken. She moved carefully in the dark, the area barely lit by a sliver of the moon. She could hear the sound of the music behind her. She was preparing to return to the reception when she heard voices to her left. She stepped behind a large flowering bush at the edge of the grove. She sucked in a deep breath when she saw Monica pressed tightly against Joan. The redhead appeared to be nuzzling her face into Joan's neck as her hands worked at the vest buttons again.

"You look incredibly desirable in this suit, but it has entirely too many buttons," Monica's low voice complained.

"Please stop, Monica," Joan said. She gently pushed Monica away and held her at arm's length.

"You've been teasing me too long, Joan," Monica said. "You know how much I want you."

"I have never led you on or done anything to make you believe I was interested in you romantically or any other way."

"Martine wouldn't have wanted you to stop living after she was gone, honey."

"Don't tell me what Martine would or would not have wanted," Joan said.

"She was my best friend and I will never believe she wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone and untouched."

"And you would be more than glad to make me feel better, is that what you're saying?"

"And be touched by you," Monica said in a low, sultry voice. "I dream about what it would be like to feel your hands and mouth on my body."

"What you want should be done by someone who cares about you. I'm sorry, but I'm not that person."

"I could be if you gave me a chance."

Joan shook her head and brought her hand to her forehead. "Actually, even though the wine tonight is wonderful, I've probably gone over my limit," she said with a chuckle. "I'd like to believe I can trust you not to take advantage of the situation."

Evey sensed a cue from Joan and stepped from behind the bush, strolling toward the two women. "There you are!" she announced cheerfully. "You promised me the next dance."

Joan leaned back against the nearest tree and took a deep breath. Monica looked less than thrilled that her planned seduction had failed. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her inviting chest. She turned her attention back to Joan. "I don't want to see you again when we return to New York," she said.

Joan reached out and placed a consoling hand on Monica's arm. "I'm sorry," she said.

Joan and Evey watched Monica make her way back toward the after-wedding party.

"How does coffee sound?" Evey asked.

"Like a gift from the gods," Joan sighed. "Where did they get that wine? It's delicious, but should come with a warning label."

Joan pushed away from the tree and took a shaky step forward. Evey reached out and took her arm to steady her. "Sorry," Joan said. "I usually hold my liquor better than this."

"I meant to tell you earlier that you look very...dashing in that tuxedo," Evey said.

"Thank you. I haven't worn it in a long time."

"Not since your...wife passed away?"

"She chose it for me." Joan cleared her throat and looked down at Evey. "You look beautiful in that gown, by the way. It complements your hair and eyes wonderfully."

"I'm glad you like it. Fran said you would when she helped me pick it out." Evey smiled.

"Would you honor me with a dance before the coffee?" Joan asked, groaning at how formal the invitation sounded.

"I would be delighted," Evey said, performing a slight curtsy and eliciting a chuckle from Joan.

The small band was returning from its break when Joan and Evey entered the gathering. They had performed an acceptable combination of fast and slow tunes and began their second set with a slow clarinet piece, Joan recognized as Kenny G's "Forever In Love." Joan looked at Evey and offered her hand. When Evey accepted it, her touch was soft and as light as a feather. They joined a few other couples on the floor and Joan took Evey in her arms, holding her at a respectful distance, even though she wanted to bring her closer, much closer. As if she wanted the same thing, Evey slid her hand from Joan's shoulder to the back of her neck and stepped closer, stroking absently at the short hair along the nape of her neck as Joan's hand moved from the center to the small of her back. Joan looked down at Evey and smiled. She struggled to take a breath and longed to feel Evey's head against her chest. When the music faded away, Joan hesitated before releasing the woman who fit so well in her arms.

Joan accompanied Evey into the house and plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table while Evey prepared the coffeemaker. She rotated her neck as far as it would turn in either direction and leaned her head back, bringing a hand up to massage her shoulder. Evey dried her hands on a towel that was folded on the counter. She stepped behind Joan and lightly placed her hands on her shoulders. She began kneading the tight muscles beneath the clothing and skin. Joan's head fell forward and she groaned softly. Gradually she lowered her head to the table and smiled.