Wedding Bell Blues (17 page)

“You gonna count that?” Horace cocked an eyebrow.

“Sure.” Cal clapped his hands. “Nice going, Wonder.”

“Your turn, Horace.” Wonder shrugged. “Only fair.”

Otto Friedrich wandered into the room, stein in hand, as Horace gathered up the darts. “Bachelor party, huh? Y’all think you can hit the wall?”

Lars glanced at him. “Pete can.”

Otto turned to study Pete. Behind them, Horace’s first dart
thunked
into the wall next to the target while Wonder jeered.

“You play darts, Toleffson?” Otto took a swallow of beer.

“Occasionally.” Pete leaned against his pillar, watching Horace raise his arm. The dart landed closer to the target this time.

“Up for a game?” Otto watched Horace raise his arm once more.

“Sure.”

Horace’s third shot landed in the outer ring of the target.

“Lucky shot,” Wonder mumbled.

“Okay, new shooters,” Cal called. “Everybody back.”

Otto picked up three darts from the table and took his stance. His first dart arced through the air, landing in the double ring at fourteen.

“I’ll keep score,” Horace called. “Twenty-eight.”

“You’ll keep score?” Otto narrowed his eyes at Horace. “You sure you can see the numbers?”

Horace pulled off his glasses, polishing them on his shirt tail. “You just throw the darts, boy. I’ll keep track if you hit something.”

Pete stepped to the line, weighing the dart in his hand then lifting it carefully. It landed in the triple ring at seven.

“Twenty-one.” Horace stretched his legs in front of him.

“Tough luck.” The corners of Otto’s mouth edged up. “Could have been thirty-two if you’d gone up a little.”

“Could have been seven, if I’d been down.” Pete folded his arms. “Your shot, Friedrich.”

Otto picked up a dart. “You running this party, Toleffson?”

“More or less.” Pete kept his gaze on the target.

“I guess Janie’s running the bachelorettes.”

“Nobody’s running the bachelorettes, Friedrich,” Wonder mused. “They are a law unto themselves.”

Otto raised his hand, sighting down his arm, then let fly. The dart landed in the outer ring at ten.

“That’s thirty-eight total.” Horace sipped his beer.

“Nice girl, Janie.” Otto gave Pete a long look. “Known her a long time.”

“No, actually.” Pete smiled at him. “I’ve only known her a week or so.”

“No.” Otto scowled. “I mean
I’ve
known her a long time. Years. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Oh, well, you know what they say about familiarity.” Pete stepped to the throw line.

“What’s that?” Otto was still scowling.

“Breeds contempt.” Pete’s dart landed at eighteen. “Or something.”

“Thirty-nine,” Horace called.

Otto stepped to the line with his third dart. The back of his neck was slightly pink, Pete noted. Otto’s dart flew to the target, landing in the triple ring at five.

“Fifty-three,” Horace called. “Your turn, Pete.”

Pete stepped up to the throw line, squinting at the target. He raised his arm.

“She’s my girl,” Otto snarled. “Remember that, Toleffson.”

Pete’s dart
thonked
at ten.

“Forty-nine,” Horace called.

Pete turned to Otto, managing not to grind his teeth. “Two out of three?”

“Sure.” Otto’s mouth curved in a tight grin. He took his stand at the throw line.

“I didn’t get the impression Janie belonged to anybody,” Pete mused. “She sure doesn’t act like it.”

Otto stepped back from the line. “What do you mean by that?”

Pete shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Your shot.”

Otto’s dart arced in the air and bounced off a metal rim.

“Goose egg.” Horace sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Pete stepped forward, picking up a dart.

“She acts like it with me,” Otto snapped.

Pete looked over his shoulder. Otto stood straight, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes were faintly bloodshot. Pete wondered about the effects of combining alcohol and ’roid rage. Great. As if he didn’t have enough drunks to contend with already.

He turned back to the target.
Party. It’s Cal’s party.
He raised his dart and let it fly before Otto could say anything else.

The dart landed in the outer bulls-eye.

“Bull,” Horace called. “Nice one. Twenty-five.”

Otto stepped up almost before Pete had stepped back, raising his dart and throwing it.

“Eleven,” Horace called.

Pete waited for Otto to step aside. It seemed to take him a long time to pull his dart free. He raised his dart and threw as soon as Otto had moved.

“Twenty-two,” Horace called. “That’s forty-seven total.”

Pete reached to pull his dart loose and something flew by his hand. Otto’s dart
thunked
into the triple circle.

“Jesus,” Cal cried. “Watch what you’re doing. Pete was still next to the target.”

Pete looked back at Otto.

He shrugged. “Sorry. Thought you were finished.”

Horace turned slowly, fixing Otto with a look. “That’s twenty-one. Thirty-two total, unless we disqualify you for being an asshole.”

Otto’s expression turned mulish. “I said I was sorry, Doc.”

Horace’s gaze flicked to Pete. “Right. Your shot.”

Pete stepped back to the line, sighting down his arm, then sent the dart arcing toward the target.

“Thirty-six,” Horace yelled. “Way to go. Eighty-three total. Pete takes it.”

“Two out of three, you said,” Otto snapped.

“So I did.” Pete dropped his dart onto the table beside him.

Next to Cal, Wonder momentarily returned to consciousness. “If you’re going with Janie Dupree, you’re one lucky man, Friedrich. She’s one of the sweetest ladies in Konigsburg. Even if she can’t make scones.”

Otto’s dart
thunked
into the target. “Double bull,” he crowed.

Cal ambled toward the target, squinting. “Not quite. Still in the outer circle.”

“Like hell,” Otto pushed Cal to the side.

“Hey, don’t push my little brother.” Lars was on his feet suddenly, lurching toward Otto until Horace stepped in his path.

“Best have a seat, Lars, game’s still on. Wouldn’t want you to get darted.” Horace guided Lars into a chair and dropped next to him. “It’s a single bulls-eye, Friedrich, live with it. Twenty-five.”

Pete stood at the line, aiming for the double twenty. Of course, aiming never worked too well for him.

“Twenty-four,” Horace called.

Otto shot Pete a look. “Stay away from her. I’ve been working on her for three months. Just keep your distance.” He tossed his dart with considerable force. It bounced off the metal ring with a clatter.

“Oooh!” Horace grinned. “Another goose-egg. Tough luck, Friedrich.”

“Working on her.” Pete stared at the target. “You make her sound like a construction project.” He sighted down his hand again. Maybe if he didn’t aim… He let fly.

“Thirty-six,” Horace called. “Total of sixty.”

Otto stepped up to the line again. “She may not be a construction project, but she’s built like a brick shithouse.
My
brick shithouse. Back off, asshole.”

His dart hit the exact center of the target.

“Okay,” Horace sighed. “That one was a double bull. Seventy-five.”

Pete stared at the target as Otto ambled slowly forward. If he got a bulls-eye of his own, single or double, he’d beat him. That would be the mature way to take his revenge.

Otto reached languidly toward the target, deliberately drawing his time out. His voice still echoed in Pete’s brain. Janie Dupree. Sexy, sylphlike Janie Dupree.
She’s built like a brick shithouse.

Ah hell, screw maturity.

Pete raised his hand and let fly. The dart pierced Otto’s ass neatly through his left rear pocket.

Chapter Twelve

“Okay…” Docia wiped the tears from her eyes, “…what else have you got in those magic bags? I think I’m in the mood for it now.”

“Right.” Allie’s lips twitched. “Well, these are the interesting presents. I got them off the Web, and before you ask, I have no idea how well they work.”

“Maybe you can tell us when you get back from San Francisco,” Bethany chirped. She took a long look at the box Allie had lifted from the gift bag, then blew out a quick breath. “Or not.”

The picture on the box looked a little like ponytail holders, but Janie had a feeling that wasn’t what they did. “What are those?”

“Cock rings.” Allie’s voice was breezy. “My understanding is they’re supposed to make things, well, bigger and better.”

Docia cleared her throat. “Yes, well, thanks for the thought but bigger is not exactly a problem here.”

“Not with the Toleffsons,” Sherice muttered darkly.

Docia glanced at her then looked back at the sack. “I shudder to ask, but what else have we got here?”

She reached in and pulled out a box with a picture of another ponytail holder, this one made out of six rows of small pearls. “What on earth?”

Allie shrugged. “Sort of more of the same, except these are supposed to work on both partners simultaneously as it were.”

Docia studied the beads for a moment, then fanned herself with her hand. “Oh my, my, my. This has some possibilities.”

“Indeed it does.” Bethany picked up the ponytail-holder-that-wasn’t and held it up for study. “Indeed it does.”

“Is there more?” Janie felt slightly giddy.

“A couple of things.” Allie pulled two more boxes out of the sack, handing the first to Docia.

“Glow in the dark condoms?” Docia raised an eyebrow. “Won’t this make him look like a monster out of some fifties horror movie?”

“The Attack of the Monster Penis?” Janie blurted and then slapped a hand across her mouth.

Bethany and Allie both shrieked, as Docia stared at her wide-eyed, then dissolved into another series of whooping guffaws.

“Oh god,” Allie gasped, “I can see it now. Bouncing across the room. Sort of like this giant green pogostick.”

All four of them were gasping for breath. Janie fumbled for a tissue in her purse.

“Okay, what’s so funny this time?” Ken stood in the doorway, his all-American boy face perplexed.

Janie’s cheeks were flaming again. “Oh, gosh, Ken, I’m sorry. Were we too loud? Did we upset the blue hairs?”

Ken shook his head. “The blue hairs are safe, but you’re intriguing the hell out of me. What have you got there?”

Docia handed him the box—her cheeks were flaming too, Janie noted.

Ken read the label, snorted, then collapsed into snickers. “Oh, no, Docia. Don’t do this to your sweet doctor. No, no, no.”

“Don’t do what?” Lee set another tray of tapas on the table, peering over Ken’s shoulder. “Oh sweet lord, Docia.”

“All right, all right.” Docia grinned at them. “I get the message. I’ll refrain. At least on the wedding night. Who knows what we might do if we get bored later on, though.”

“In San Francisco?” Ken shook his head as he collected empty wine bottles. “Not likely, sweetie. I brought you all some more syrah and a new gewürztraminer from Sonoma.”

“Enjoy, ladies.” Lee smiled at them indulgently. “We’ll check back on you in a little while.”

“What’s the other box?” Bethany nodded toward the box beside the glow-in-the-dark condoms.

Docia picked it up, her brow furrowing. “More condoms?”

“Specialized.” Allie shrugged. “Or so they tell me.”

“‘Uniquely Textured’?” Docia frowned at the box. “What does that mean?”

“Got me.” Allie shrugged again. “You won’t know until you try it, I guess.”

“But texture? I never thought a textured dick was a necessity.”

Bethany choked on her wine, then let Allie pound her on the back.

“You could ask those two queers who run this place if they work,” Sherice said flatly. “I’ll bet they use stuff like that all the time.”

The silence in the room was suddenly deafening. Janie’s fingernails bit into her palms. “What did you say?”

“Those two. They’re queers, right? Geez, they do everything but swish.”

“They don’t have gay people in Iowa?” Docia’s voice was dark. She was no longer smiling.

Sherice shrugged. “Probably. I don’t interact with them. Except at the hairdresser’s, but there you expect it. I guess it’s different here.”

“Yes,” Janie snapped, “it’s definitely different here.” She swallowed hard, trying to loosen her shoulders. “Lee and Ken are my friends.
Our
friends.”

Sherice shrugged. “Whatever. I figure they wash their hands before they do any cooking.”

Janie stared at her, her breath catching in her throat.

She’s Docia’s sister-in-law. She’s a bridesmaid.

She’s a hairy-assed bitch.

Janie stood abruptly. “Get out.”

Sherice raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to tread on toes. Since they’re your friends and all.”

“Yes, like I said, they’re my friends. But you aren’t. Now go away. Or I’ll probably do something both of us will regret.” Although Janie didn’t figure she’d regret it much. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Sherice stood, straightening the creases from her skirt. “All right. It’s not like I said anything other people don’t say all the time. You’re sure touchy about this.”

“Yes—” Janie nodded, “—I definitely am. My friends are important to me. Can you find your way out or do I need to show you where the door is?”

Sherice gave her a quick, pointed look. “I’m going—don’t get your knickers in a twist.” She undulated toward the door, giving them the full treatment. In the doorway, she paused. “By the way, that lavender dress wouldn’t have looked nearly as good on you as it will on me.”

Janie stood watching the empty doorway for a moment after Sherice had gone. Docia’s voice came from beside her. “Did I ever tell you Lee Contreras was the first person to say ‘Hi’ to me in Konigsburg? The second day I was here.”

Janie practiced taking deep breaths, willing her pulse to slow down. “Really?”

“Really.” Docia’s voice was flat. “That woman will not be part of my wedding. I don’t care who gets upset. I wonder if I could rescind her invitation, assuming I could do it without excluding Lars.”