CnC 5 One Hex of a Wedding (3 page)

Still doubting my decision, I slowly nodded. “Truce. Now, mingle, stick to safe topics, and leave unfashionably early, if you would.” As I headed over to Joe and Jimbo, who were scowling at us, I had the feeling that my words had thudded against the side of a brick wall.

Grandma McGrady had spilled the beans to Joe about Roy’s appearance. She might not approve of our age difference—me being older than Joe the operative problem—but she knew enough to plant the seeds of discord in the right place. And Murray had probably told Jimbo. Whatever the case, both men looked miffed.

“You’re letting him stay?” Joe crossed his arms and cocked his head, his way of telling me that I’d slipped into reprehensible territory.

I filled him in on Kip’s mistake. “I don’t want my son seeing me throw his father out on his ass. I’m going to send the kids home with my mother, or Ida. Whoever I can corral first. Then I’ll deal with Roy.”

Jimbo grumbled. “I think he needs a lesson in etiquette.”

I put my hand on the big guy’s arm. “Hold off, okay? Both you and Joe simmer down. If he gets out of hand, then yeah, you two can clean him up, but let me get the kids out of the way first.”

Joe rolled his eyes, but then, with a loud sigh, kissed the top of my head. “Whatever you say, babe. Go play Mama.”

The Barry Boys were cranking it up again. Irritated, I wondered what it took to have a reasonably uneventful event. I wanted to enjoy myself, not field arguments and bullies and fights. I finally managed to corner Ida in the restroom. “Can you do me a huge favor and take the kids home?”

Ida glanced at the clock. “Of course, dear, but it’s early yet. Has anything happened?”

I nodded. “My ex, Roy, showed up and I’m afraid there’s going to be a testosterone match before long.”

She patted me on the hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll gather them up and scoot them home. Do you want them to stay at my place?” Ida, a retired schoolteacher who put the
proper
in
prim and proper
, had been the kids’ babysitter since I first moved to Chiqetaw. Along with Horvald, she was my closest neighbor. And though Randa no longer needed a lot of supervision, Kip was still a handful.

I shook my head. “We won’t be too late, so they can go right home if they want. I’d just feel better with you on call.”

As we stepped back into the banquet room, the sheer weight of everybody’s emotions, both good and bad, hit me. I felt like bagging it, taking the kids home myself, and curling up on the sofa with a bad movie and a bowl of popcorn. Ida must have picked up on my sudden depression, because within five minutes the kids were not only ready, but willing to go with her. I didn’t know how she worked her miracles, but I wasn’t going to question them.

“Did you say good-bye to your father?” I asked.

“Yeah, he said he’ll call us in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell us when. He just said to stick around home until he does.”

That was par for the course. Just like Roy to avoid calling, then show up unannounced and expect us to wrap our schedules around him like he was some sort of god.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” I said, then hugged both of them. “Go on now. Joe and I’ll be home soon.” As Ida and Horvald—our other neighbor, who was courting Ida in every proper sense of the word—headed out with the kids, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least now when the fireworks flew, the kids would be out of the way. And I had an awful feeling we’d soon be witnessing a brilliant show.

I turned to find my sister, Rose, waiting patiently. Rose was short like me, but fashionably thin and she had a pinched look to her mouth that made her look older than me even though she was a year or so younger.

“Emmy, I know that it’s been a long evening, but I wanted to give you this. It’s a sister-present.” She held out a box.

I hesitated, then accepted the narrow velvet box. Rose and I might be the same height and have the same eyes, but there all resemblances ceased, personality included. She was the good girl, I was the wild child—at least according to Grandma M. Rose was generous, but every gift she gave came with strings attached. I glanced at her and she beamed. Maybe, I thought, maybe she really meant it this time.
A sister-present.

I flipped the top on the box and gasped. Nestled on a bed of red velvet rested a faceted crystal necklace. The beads were bound together by bronze fasteners, and their surfaces glistened, sparkling with rainbows. Speechless, I lifted it out of the box and held it up to the light.

Rose broke into a wide smile. “Do you like it?”

“I love it!” And I did. It was so much my style that I wondered just how she’d picked it out. Everything she’d ever bought for me had ended up at the thrift store after spending a year in the back of my closet. As I looked at her expectant face, however, I pushed away my ungenerous thoughts. Maybe Rose wanted to mend fences, bridge the gap that had kept us on opposite shores since we were young.

“Here, let me put it on for you,” she said, taking the necklace as she motioned for me to turn around. I unfastened the gold chain I was already wearing and slipped it into the box as she encircled my neck with her gift. “It’s called the Bride’s Circlet,” she said. “The owner of the shop where I bought it said he thinks it’s about a hundred and fifty years old, but he wasn’t positive.”

An antique? I didn’t dare ask how much the necklace had cost her. Rose was well-to-do, thanks to her ever-absent salesman of a husband, but I still had the feeling this had set her back a little.

“Thank you,” I whispered, then impulsively turned to give her a hug. As I did, I suddenly felt dizzy and swayed. She reached for my hand until I could balance myself.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking worried.

I nodded. “Yeah, I just felt … a little weird. Like something shifted.” Wonderful—a psychic quake. I wondered what was up, but didn’t have time to focus on what had caused my vertigo because she launched into an unexpected monologue.

“I saw that and I thought, that has Emerald written all over it. I know I’ve been aloof for a while, but I’m so glad you wanted a big wedding with family and everything—we so seldom ever get together. It occurred to me that maybe we should hold a family reunion this autumn and all meet in Seattle or even over on the shoreline, Ocean Shores or Kalaloch or one of those resort areas. So, do you like the necklace?” Without skipping a beat, she fell silent, like a wind-up toy that had suddenly run down.

Still foggy from the vertigo attack and her sudden fountain of words, I nodded and held out my arms. “How about that hug now? I love it, Rosy. I really do. You’re a sweetheart.”

She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into the embrace. “Anything for my big sister’s wedding. I think this one will last,” she added. “I like Joe a lot better than I did Roy. Grandma M.’s having a hissy fit over his age, but she told me—in secret, so don’t you say anything—that she likes him. She thinks he’s a ‘properly mannered young man’ and that maybe he can ‘tame Emerald into behaving like a proper lady.’ ”

I sputtered for a moment, then burst out laughing. Rose joined me and for the first time in years, we giggled over a secret. Might we
actually
be able to develop a friendship after all of these years? We’d never had any official falling out, just one hell of a fight when we were young that put an end to our developing bond. After that we were polite, we sent cards and called once in a while, but Rose and I had nothing as strong as my connection with Murray.

I was about to tell her how glad I was that she’d come when a loud shout from the other end of the room caught my attention. I broke a path through the dancers and stepped into an opening near the buffet. Roy, beer in hand, stood nose-to-chin with Joe. By the look of the scattered bottles on the table, I figured Roy had made up for lost time. He was easily three sheets to the wind. The man never could hold his liquor, a problem that had become a serious issue as our marriage had disintegrated.

“Let me tell you a little about her,” Roy was saying. “She got fat on me … she let her—her—herself go and she got fat on me.”

“And let me tell you once again to shut your mouth or get out.” Joe hadn’t seen me yet. A good four inches taller than Roy, he was glaring down at him, the look in his eyes the closest I’d ever seen to violence.

“What the hell is going on?” I said. “Roy, you dolt! Do you have to cause trouble every time you’re around?”

“Where are the kids?” he asked, looking around wildly. “I wanna tell them good night.”

Shoving my way between the two men, I jabbed Roy in the chest with my finger. “I sent them home. It’s time for you to leave, too. Call them when you’re sober.” I had no intention of setting him off, but then again, that’s how it had always been—never knowing when he was going to blow his stack. Life with Roy had been a series of days spent walking on eggshells. Unfortunately, this turned out to be one of those times.

“Tell me to leave, will you? You’re still the same bitch you were when I dumped you years ago! I should have taken the kids, you slut—” And just like that, in front of everyone, Roy took a swing at me. His open hand grazed my cheek before I realized what was happening.

Barely aware of the blow that set my ears ringing, I lost it. “You fucking bastard, you honestly think you can still get away with that? You’ve got a big lesson to learn, Roy, and one of these days, you’re going to learn it the hard way.”

Years of repressed anger fueling me, I lunged, shoving him hard. He landed on the main buffet table, right in the center of the two-tier cake shaped like a giant teapot. Before I could do or say another thing, Joe and Jimbo were bearing down on Roy, and they looked ready to kill.

Two

 

 

 

I KNOW THAT a lot of women might find the scenario romantic … their fiancé battling their ex-husband to defend their honor, but I was totally mortified. It didn’t help that I blamed myself. I’d played right into Roy’s machinations by allowing him into the party in the first place.

“I’ll teach you to hit my fiancée. Or any woman for that matter!” Joe made a grab for Roy, but stumbled back as Jimbo intervened, hauling Roy off the floor as he lifted him by the collar. Roy’s feet dangled a good half-foot from the floor. The look on Jimbo’s face was so chiseled it could have cut diamonds.

“We’re
both
gonna teach you a lesson,” Jimbo said, his voice gruff. His eyes sparkled, and I had the feeling he was enjoying this.

Joe shook his head. “He’s mine, man.”

Just then, the drunken Roy took it into his head to defend himself and kicked Jimbo square in the balls. Jimbo let out a sharp yelp and dropped Roy back onto the table before doubling over. That was all it took. Joe was on Roy like a wolf on a rabbit. They rolled onto the ground, but Roy was no match for the younger—and stronger—man. Joe threw a couple of well-aimed punches, connecting with Roy’s jaw, and the bone-chilling cracks echoed through the hypnotized circle of guests.

“Stop it! All of you! Knock it off!” My shouts went unheeded. I knew that weddings could bring out the worst in people, but jeez! At least the party at my first marriage hadn’t deteriorated into a Jerry Springer scene. Of course, I hadn’t had an ex-husband to deal with, either, especially one determined to ruin my happiness. Instead, I’d married him and let him ruin my life that way.

Jimbo was stumbling to his feet, looking determined when Murray leaped up on what was left of the table.

“Freeze, suckers, or I’m running you all in!” Hands on her hips, in her burgundy halter dress with its flirty bow cinching the waist and her high-heeled strappy sandals, she looked ready to spring into the frame of an action T&A movie, but nobody laughed. Nobody ever laughed at Murray when she was upset.

I rushed over and pulled Joe away from Roy. Harlow yanked on Jimbo’s arm until he backed away.

Murray glared down at the troublemakers. “You’ve just ruined Emerald’s evening, you’ve destroyed the cake, and you’ve made a complete spectacle out of yourselves. Satisfied?”

“Emerald ruined the cake.” Roy’s voice was slurred, but recognizably whiny. “She pushed me. See what I’m talking about? Pushy broad.”

“
You
might want to shut your mouth, Roy. And remember how much better off you’ll be by
keeping
it shut. You’re on
my
turf now, and I won’t hesitate to toss you in jail and forget about you.” Murray glanced around the room. “As it is, we’re probably going to be banned from the diner. So, what should we do about this situation?”

“I want him out of here. I want him out now,” Joe said. He clenched his fists, but kept his arms at his sides. His jaw was bruised. Roy had gotten in one or two punches of his own. “If he’s not out of here in five minutes, I’m going to pound him into the ground.”

Murray nodded and jumped off the table to kneel by Roy’s side. “You are still the same jerk-wad you were when Em left you. Get out of here before I run you in for drunk and disorderly conduct.”

Roy wiped away the bloody spittle that rolled down the side of his mouth. He narrowed his eyes. “Still playing the ball-busting bitch I see—” Jimbo took a step forward and Roy made the connection that if he went any further, he was toast. “Fine, I’ll leave.”

“Show him to the door, boys, but one more punch—from
anyone
—and you’re all in trouble. I’m not in any mood to give a second warning, so play it very carefully.” Murray supervised as Jimbo and Joe roughly yanked Roy to his feet and led him toward the back exit. He shook them off when he was at the door and turned.

“You won’t get away with roughing me up like this—I’ll make your life hell,” he said, his voice echoing through the room. “You’d better hope your young stud keeps his fists to himself, Emerald. He seems pretty hot-headed to me. Good luck with your wedding. You’re gonna need it! I have the feeling it’s gonna come crashing down around your shoulders like a house built of cards.” And then, my ex-husband plunged out the back door, still drunk and weaving.