The Wedding Party (8 page)

“You gotta do this by the book, Merrie. Follow through. Or you're gonna be
real
late for work, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, I don't think he'd actually kill me,” she said quietly. “So, how'd you talk your ex-wife into helping me out? You don't have to pay her for this, do you?”

“No, nothing like that. She likes having me owe her. It makes her feel powerful.” He grinned.

“You must have a pretty good relationship with her, even after the divorce.”

“We were married one twenty-sixth of the total time we've known each other, and we've gotten along better in the last twenty-five years than we got along in that one. Most of the time I irritate the shit outta her.” He grinned, as if it was an achievement. “But, like I said, she relishes opportunities to remind me that I am a lowly cop and she is a big fucking attorney.” Merrie lit a cigarette. “Hey, I thought you quit.”

She exhaled away from him, trying to spare him the secondhand smoke. She touched her purplish cheekbone. “I'm under a lot of stress.”

“Soon as this is over, you gotta try to quit again. That stuff isn't good for the kids. Y'know?”

She shook her head. “How'd you end up single?
Good-looking guy like you, with such a big heart? Seems like some woman'd have you locked up tight.”

“They do that regular, Merrie, honey. Regular.”

“Well, listen, I gotta git,” she said, stubbing out the barely smoked cigarette. “Get the kids home and in their own beds before my neighbor has a fit. Jake, I don't know what I'd do if you weren't such a good guy.”

“Hey, no problem. C'mon, let's go.”

“You think I'm going to get through this, keep my Josie?”

“I'm telling you, Charlene is the absolute best lawyer in family law in this city. Judges pick her to arbitrate all the time. She's so good she even took a case to the Supreme Court. And she's a nice person. You'll like her. She's got a lot of…What's the word I'm looking for? She's got a lot of spunk, that's for sure, but that's not it. She's got class, but that's not it either…. Dignity. She's got dignity. You spend a little time with her, you feel all cleaned up.”

They exited the bar and stood outside in the wet, early-spring night. “You never should' a divorced her,” Merrie said.

“Ha. That was not one of my options.”

T
he sun came out on Saturday morning and Charlene took it as an omen. She was preparing the brunch for her mother and daughter over which she would give them the good news.

“Let's not overcook that quiche,” Dennis said.

They
were making brunch.
They
would convey the news. She mentally lectured herself to start thinking and acting as a couple. This should not be a challenge; they'd been together for years.

Dennis put a sprig of mint in the festive-looking bowl of multicolored melon balls and poured four mimosas. He snapped open and refolded the linen napkins, peeked in the chafing dish at the ham and bacon and turned on the coffeepot. Charlene brought the warm croissants to the table, unfolded the napkins and put them in decorative rings, checked the meat in the chafing dish and turned down the temperature, then drank one mimosa. Rather quickly.

Dennis noticed. “There isn't any reason to be tense,” he said. “I'm sure they approve of me.”

“It's silly, isn't it? But I am tense. Why is that?”

“Are you afraid to get married?”

“No. In fact, since we made the decision, I've never felt more relaxed. Secure. Pam says I glow.”

“You didn't like the way I folded the napkins?” he asked. And if she wasn't mistaken, asked rather testily.

“I wanted to use the napkin rings—I just bought them. If you don't like them, take them off.” She took a breath. “Dennis, there are a couple of things we haven't talked about yet.”

“Like?” He left the napkin rings alone.

“Insurance? Joint accounts? Prenup?”

“Those things don't matter to me,” he said. He'd already told her that he had set aside some money for his niece and nephew, for college, and he naturally assumed Stephanie would remain her beneficiary. “Anything you want is fine with me.”

“Well, here's something we haven't discussed. Where are we going to live? I assumed we'd be living here.”

He stared at her for a moment as she fussed with the napkins, then he picked up a mimosa and drained the glass. “You did?”

“It seems like we spend more time here,” she said.

“That's because of your schedule. You don't exactly keep regular hours.”

“I don't punch a clock, no.”

“Exactly! And when we have plans and you can't get away until the last possible minute, I come for you here. Then I bring you back here.”

“I thought you
liked
it here,” she said.

“I like being with you,” he countered. “And com
ing here rather than asking you to drive back into the city is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Oh. You're being a gentleman? You don't like it here?”

“I like if
fine,
” he said snappishly. “But it's for your convenience that we spend more time here. My house is actually closer to your office and the courthouse. If your clothes were in my closet, it would work out even better for us to meet there.”

“Your place would make a nice rental,” she said.

“You don't like
my
house?”

“I love your house, but this house has a larger master bedroom and bath. Plus, I just bought it.”

“It would make a nice rental,” he said, a little edge in his voice.

“I don't want it to be a rental!”

“Really?” he asked. “Why not?”

“It's my house! I don't want to rent it out!”

“And you think I'd like to rent mine out because…?”

“It's older, larger and there are more rentals in your neighborhood.”

“It's an historic district!”

“You don't seem as attached to your house as I am to mine.”

“It's a restored home! I restored it!”

The doorbell rang. They stared each other down.

“We're going to have to put this discussion on the back burner,” she said.

“Where it will stay good and hot,” he added testily.

They went to the door together, plastered smiles on
their faces and swung the portal open to greet Stephanie and Lois. They welcomed with hugs and cheek presses, pulling the guests inside. Dennis quickly replenished the mimosas that had been guzzled while the brunch guests shed their wraps. He presented full, fresh glasses to Lois, Stephanie and Charlene, then he put an arm around his fiancée's shoulders and said, completely sweet-natured, “Let's not make them wait. Let's have a toast.”

Dennis and Charlene were both professionally trained in the ability to act contrary to emotions when necessary. Dennis couldn't let his stress or fear or even anger show in the emergency room, especially around the patients and their families. As for Charlene, she was a gifted litigator; no one knew by her expression what she was thinking…and at that moment she was thinking she had just met a side of Dennis she had never before known.

“What are we toasting? New car? Vacation? Raise? Bonus?” Stephanie asked, taking a preliminary sip.

“At long last, Dennis and I have decided to make it official. We're getting married.”

Stephanie stopped in mid gulp. She and Lois exchanged shocked looks and then said in unison, “Why?”

As toasts go, it wasn't all Charlene had dreamed of. She much preferred the reaction she had gotten from Pam. Happy tears seemed more apropos.

“We felt it was time,” she said somewhat wearily.

They relented. “Oh. Well then, congratulations!”

“Yes, of course. How wonderful.”

Dennis raised a glass. “To new family ties,” he proposed.

“Hear, hear,” they intoned.

“Now, what have you made for brunch?” Lois wanted to know.

“Well, don't fall over in excitement,” Charlene said.

Stephanie whispered to her grandmother, “I think she's in need of a little more bride-to-be attention, Peaches.”

“But they always serve such lovely meals,” Lois protested.

“Come ahead, then,” Dennis said. “Come and sit—you'll love this.”

It was true—Dennis and Charlene had gotten quite good at this sort of thing. It was not entirely insensitive of Lois to concern herself first with brunch and second with the upcoming nuptials. In their five years together, Charlene and Dennis had established a reputation for giving the best parties, with the most exquisite ambience and the most delectable food. They had a keen eye for putting the right guest list together, and whether the affair was large or small, elegant or casual, it was always polished. Perfect.

They sat Lois and Stephanie down and served them a wonderful brunch. Once their appetites were sated, they turned their attention to the prospect of a wedding. Charlene gave them the standard line, that it would be small, simple and soon, possibly in a few weeks.

“What do you mean, small wedding? What do you mean by small?” Stephanie wanted to know.

“Well, we've talked about a quick trip to Lake Tahoe,” Charlene said.

“Or, we could throw caution to the wind and go all the way to Las Vegas,” Dennis threw out.

Charlene looked askance at him. She thought his tone was a little edgy and suspected he was still miffed about the house issue.

“Most likely, we'll go down to the courthouse, get it done and spend our time and money on a vacation later,” Charlene clarified.

“And deprive yourselves of guests?” Lois asked. “How completely unlike either one of you.”

“I have to admit, I'm pretty surprised,” Stephanie agreed. “I would have expected a rather lavish affair.”

“As in big, white wedding?” Charlene asked, frankly shocked.

“Oh, not as in big, white, virginal wedding,” she clarified. “Something that would fit your personal style more—which is almost never simple, small and soon. I've seen you plan a Christmas party for months, a Fourth of July barbecue for weeks. It's so unlike you to just throw something together.”

“Well, that's just the point!” Charlene said in frustration. “We want to get married and don't have time for a big deal. It's a little more complicated than a dinner party, you know.”

“Hardly. You can take as much or as little control as you like,” Lois declared.

“Peaches is right, Mom. These days you get a wedding planner.”

Charlene was a little slow to respond because she was watching her mother. It didn't escape her notice that Lois seemed positively sharp as a tack today…and this pleased Charlene greatly. This was the mother she knew and, as it happened, took for granted.

“I can't believe a planner eliminates all the work. Surely there's still copious shopping, ordering, listing, planning…”

“As much as you want.” Stephanie shrugged. “Remember Jennifer Johnson, my sorority sister? She's in med school and said all the time she could spare was a two-hour meeting every couple of weeks. Her mom and dad live in another state, so they couldn't help. The solution? She had a meeting with the planner to talk about what she liked, made final selections that were brought to her and showed up to say ‘I do.”' Stephanie popped a melon ball into her mouth.

“That couldn't be done in a month.”

“Maybe not, but if all you want is a nice party, something you wouldn't have to have a hall reserved for months in advance, you could have a very nice wedding with good food, music, flowers and lots of fun planned in two or three months. You could be a June bride.” She leaned over the small round table. “You're not, you know, in the family way?” she whispered. Then giggled.

“She's afraid I won't make it,” Lois said.

“Mother! What an awful thing to say!”

“Aren't you?”

“Peaches, that's a little melodramatic, isn't it?” Stephanie wanted to know.

“It's true. She's completely freaked out because I got a little turned around at the grocery store.”

Annoying though the direction of conversation was to Charlene, it was also endearing. That was her mom; she rarely spoke as you'd expect an eighty-year-old woman would. Freaked out, indeed!

“I heard it was very turned around,” Stephanie said, giving her grandmother a sidelong glance.

“It could have been
very.
Whatever. She's afraid if she doesn't get married quickly, I won't even know I went to the wedding.”

“You are so irritating,” Charlene said to them both, but she managed a smile. At least Peaches had a sense of humor.

“I wouldn't mind having guests,” Dennis said.

The women turned as one to stare at Dennis, as if they'd forgotten he had a role in this event.

“Well…I wouldn't,” he said.

“But you said it should be simple and small and quick,” Charlene said.

“No, you asked if it
could
be simple, small and quick, and I said that would be fine, if you wanted it that way. I always say that. Anything you want is fine with me. But if you're tempted to have a larger party, a reception with guests, I would enjoy that. My first time around, we didn't have a big wedding, just a few friends in the park.”

“Why didn't you say so?”

“You didn't ask. You seldom ask me what I'd pre
fer.” He let his gaze drop as he sipped his coffee—to miss her glower.

“Was that a jab?” Peaches whispered to Stephanie.

“Very definitely,” Stephanie whispered back. “The wedding tension has begun.”

“No, it hasn't,” Charlene said. “This could work out fine. I went to the justice of the peace with Jake.”

“Maybe we should do things differently,” Dennis suggested. “For luck.”

“Well,” Charlene began patiently, “Stephanie's right. We've entertained on any excuse in the past few years. It seems kind of strange to conceal the wedding.”

“It
is
a celebration, after all,” Lois said. “I wouldn't mind having something to dress up for. You
are
my only child, you know. And you eloped the last time.”

“I just said that, Mom,” Charlene reminded her.

“I know. I heard you.”

“You two have always been such party animals,” Stephanie said. “In your own very special, uptight way,” she added softly.

“I think I can remain mentally competent for a few more months,” Lois said.

“Mother, for heaven's sake—”

“I don't know why you don't check it out,” Stephanie said. “I mean, before you decide to elope to Tahoe, you might as well see what you're dealing with. That's what I plan to do.”

“Seek out the help of a wedding planner?” Lois wanted to know.