Nice Girls Don't Bite Their Neighbors (32 page)

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Authors: Molly Harper

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Romance, #General

BOOK: Nice Girls Don't Bite Their Neighbors
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On the far side of the yard, I could see tables being set up for the reception. The rental service’s employees were milling around the yard like an army of productive ants, setting up chairs, putting out table linens. Mama was in the middle of it all, conducting the chaos like a virtuoso.

“Where’s Gabriel?” I asked, stretching and checking the clock. We only had an hour before the wedding. With the sun setting so late during the summer, we couldn’t wait too long after dusk, or we’d be entertaining our guests well past their bedtimes. And ours, for that matter.

“You’ll be very proud of them,” Jolene told me as I retrieved my fancy nuptial underwear set from the dresser and ran into the bathroom. She shouted through the bathroom door as I buckled myself into my strapless bra. “The boys came home at a reasonable hour last night, mostly sober. Gabriel and Jamie crashed over at Dick and Andrea’s to give you some space. Oh, and Jamie won twenty-four dollars playing blackjack. He didn’t try to feed on a single human, not once.”

“That’s good news.” I emerged from the bathroom in
my robe, because as close as we were, I wasn’t going to hang out with Jolene and Andrea in my underwear for the next hour.

The door burst open, and my sister barreled into the room, wearing her bridesmaid’s dress. “Who’s ready to get married?”

I burst out cackling at the sight of my sister in her “biohazard suit” bridesmaid’s dress. The neckline was off the shoulder, with a wide ruffle of egg-yolk yellow that gathered at the cleavage with a fabric rose, which accented the bodice’s descent into what can only be described as a waist lapel. The whole effect made even my classically beautiful sister look sallow and misshapen. I laughed so hard that I tried to sit on the bed to support my shaking legs, but I missed and ended up in a giggling heap on the floor.

“Oh, good. I see that trademark charm is going to be what sustains us all night.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny, this is all my fault,” Jolene assured her. “I made Jane wear this dress at my wedding, and you’re a victim of the fallout.”

“She’s the victim of fallout, all right.” I giggled. Jenny glared at me. I sniffed and wiped at my eyes. “Sorry.”

“Really?” Jenny asked.

“No. But look, I painted my toenails to match your dresses.” I wiggled my toes in her direction to show her the neon-yellow polish. “Out of solidarity.”

“Doesn’t count,” Jenny insisted. “Your shoes will cover them up. Now, come on and get dressed. Kent and the boys can’t wait to see what kind of outfit a vampire bride wears.”

I sniffed, wiping at my eyes as I rose. I managed to pull myself together, only to have Andrea come in wearing her dress, and I started giggling all over again.

Jolene left to go get dressed, while Jenny and Andrea pulled me in front of the vanity.

“Remember, neutral tones,” Jenny said, dumping a shoulder bag full of cosmetics onto the vanity. “We want a light, smoky eye and a soft coral lip. And let’s try to do something about those dark circles.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Vampires have dark circles. Andrea has dark circles.”

“Did you see them on my wedding night?” Andrea asked.

“No,” I grumbled.

She preened. “Because I know how to use concealer.”

Mama came bustling into the room with a garment bag over her shoulder and a mug of blood in her hand. Because there just weren’t enough people in the room already. “Hi, sweetie! Are you excited?”

“So excited I may vomit at any moment,” I assured her.

“Oh, you silly.” She chuckled, handing me the mug of warm donor A-positive. “Gabriel said it would be better if you had something substantial in your system, so you’re getting the real stuff today. Use the straw so you don’t mess up your lipstick. And don’t get that anywhere near the dresses! The last thing we need is you girls walking down the aisle looking like extras from
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
.”

She hustled into the bathroom to change into her
mother-of-the-bride frock. I stared after her, my mouth hanging open.

“Did Mama just hand me a cup of human blood and then make a joke about a horror movie?” I asked Jenny, who nodded, all astonishment. “Doesn’t the Bible list that as one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse?”

“Well, not in the King James version,” Jenny said.

“Ah!” I cried, dribbling blood back into the mug. “Don’t be clever while I’m drinking. Blood spit-takes are gross!”

Andrea continued to lacquer my face, while Jenny piled my hair on top of my head. A couple of pins, a little hairspray, and I had a perfectly acceptable bun to pin my veil to. Mama came out of the bathroom in a pretty dove-gray suit and heels.

“Well, that’s just beautiful, girls. You did a great job. Now, why don’t you go downstairs and get that present for Jane? I’d like to help her get into her dress.”

My friends were leaving me . . . alone . . . with my mother . . . right before a special occasion. I did not see this ending well for me. Maybe now was the moment to distract them all by revealing the real bridesmaids’ dresses. Surely, they’d suffered enough. But then they all filed out of the room like dutiful little traitors, leaving me to the world’s most awkward birds-and-the-bees talk.

No, they deserved the yellow dresses of shame.

Mama got my wedding dress out of the closet and unzipped the garment bag. “Now, Janie, did you have questions for me about tonight?”

“No, I’m pretty clear on the ceremony stuff, Mama,” I said, stepping out of my robe and into the dress she was very carefully holding open for me. “I know I’ve been kind of a pain about this, but I really do appreciate all the effort you put into the planning.”

“Oh, I know, baby. But I meant questions about later tonight.”

I paused for a moment. Then my jaw dropped.

Mama continued, “It’s just that after a few years, the two of you will get used to each other. And a married woman sometimes has to figure out special, um, efforts to keep her husband’s interest piqued. Since the two of you will be together forever, you’re going to have to work that much harder. So, if you need any advice, I’m here for you.”

I stared at her blankly, unable to draw enough breath to respond.

“You know, if you need any tips—”

“What—what—Why on earth would I come to you for sex tips?” I spluttered.

She shrugged as she zipped the back of my dress. “Well, I’ve been married to your father for more than thirty years, and he’s as happy as a clam—”

“Stop, Mama.”

“Sometimes he likes it when I—”

“Oh, my God, isn’t this a situation where hysterical deafness is called for?”

Jenny came into the room, carrying a little velvet pouch. When she saw the look on my face, she snickered.
“Mama tried to give you the ‘wives need to learn special tricks’ lecture, didn’t she?” she asked, desperately trying to repress a smile. (And failing miserably.)

“I am just trying to share some wifely wisdom with you,” Mama said, her hands on her hips. “Smart-asses.”

“You’ve been branded a smart-ass. Welcome to my world,” I told Jenny. She pulled a face and went to the mirror to put on lip gloss.

“Now that you’re done ridiculing your mother,” Mama said, eyeing me sternly, “I’m going to give you your wedding present.” She opened the jeweler’s pouch and pulled out a little sapphire pendant that had belonged to our paternal grandmother, Grandma Pat. She carefully draped it around my neck and clasped it. “Your grandmother gave me this to wear on my wedding day. Jenny wore it on hers. And now you’re wearing it on yours. And since you’re the youngest girl in the family and Jenny doesn’t plan on having any more children, we’d like you to keep it.”

“But what about the boys? When they get married, their wives might want this.” I watched Jenny’s face carefully. The distribution of family heirlooms had been a major issue of contention between us over the years. As in, she actually sued me over a family Bible. But she seemed perfectly fine with the idea of this little piece of family history remaining with me.

“Let’s just wait and see if I like the girls they marry,” she said. “So, that means your dress is new, and the necklace is old and blue. What can you borrow?”

“A time machine so I could go back before Mama’s sex lecture and never have to hear it?”

“Oh, shush!” Mama said, slapping at my shoulder. “Borrow my bracelet.” She unsnapped the thin gold bangle from around her wrist and clipped it around mine. “Ingrates, the both of you.”

“She did the same thing to me on my wedding day, only we were in the church’s changing room, which made it so much worse for some reason,” Jenny said, shuddering.

“You couldn’t have warned me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I think I liked it better when you two didn’t get along,” Mama muttered.

Jenny and Mama scurried out to check on the groom and company and make sure they were strapped into their tuxes. Jolene and Andrea accompanied them, for the boys’ sake.

I turned to look in the mirror and gasped. I actually looked like a bride. My hair gently framed my face, the chestnut color setting off the pale gray lawn of my veil. My wide, honey-hazel eyes were subtly outlined and winked out from my face like stars. My mouth looked soft and flushed. Andrea and Jenny had outdone themselves.

I stared at the mirror, unable to believe that the elegant, beautiful bride reflected back at me was, in fact, me.

“You look just gorgeous, baby doll.” Aunt Jettie materialized at my side, peering over my shoulder in the mirror. “I am so very happy for you.”

“Thanks, Aunt Jettie. I’m so glad you got to be here today,” I said. “Even if you can’t be in the photos.”

“I love you very much, Jane,” she said, her lip trembling. “I want you to remember that, always.”

“I love you, too, Aunt Jettie. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve just got a case of the wedding misties. I’m going to go downstairs and see to Gilbert before I blubber ectoplasm all over you.”

She abruptly popped out of view. Frowning, I turned back to the mirror and fiddled with my veil. I wondered exactly how far I would get into the evening before I caught it on something or inadvertently set it on fire.

I heard the door open behind me. I said, “Mama, if you try to gift me with a wifely copy of the
Kama Sutra
, I will jump out that window.”

I sniffed and immediately caught the scent of woods and tobacco and motor oil. I was overwhelmed with panicked thought bubbles. He had to get the female out of the house. He had to get her out without being noticed. It was pure stupid luck that he’d managed to snag one of the rental-company uniforms; now he just had to knock me out and stuff me into the bag and get out before Gabriel realized that his bride had been snatched.

I turned to find a burly man in dark blue overalls standing in my bedroom. He was holding what looked like a green canvas body bag.

This was not going to end well for my wedding dress.

I sighed. “Hello, Ray.”

18

 

Your childe will be tempted to approach people from his or her former life, perhaps to seek vengeance for a perceived or actual wrong. Do your best to keep your childe distracted from this. Hunting, special treats, board games, hobbling—whatever it takes.

—Siring for the Stupid:
A Beginner’s Guide to Raising Newborn Vampires

 

R
ay McElray had had some hard days since he’d gotten out of prison. He had the same dark, curling hair, although it had been cut short from his former mullet. The same dark brown eyes, but there were now dark circles under them, and deep lines creased around his mouth. His face was a little heavier, puffed up from starchy jailhouse food.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am,” he said, his voice polite and even. “But I’d appreciate it if you turned around real slow.”

Sighing again, I cracked my neck and removed my veil. “You can leave now, unhurt, or you can stay, and you will not walk away happy.”

He reached into the body bag and pulled out what looked like a potato gun loaded with dozens of pencils. “I think I’ve got a better-than-average shot at it.”

Dozens of freshly sharpened pencils were aimed straight at my chest. That did even things out a bit.

“Let me ask you something. When you set about to make something like that, what exactly goes through your head?”

He shrugged. “Mostly, ‘boobs, beer, this will be cool, boobs, beer.’ ”

I bit my lip, because laughing didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. “Well, you’re honest.”

“I don’t want to ruin that pretty dress, ma’am, but I need you for something important that I have planned for your man. So I’d appreciate it if you would hold still.”

“I’m bait again. Why am I always bait?” I groaned. At the very least, he was the most polite kidnapper I’d had so far.

“Kind of poetic, isn’t it?” Ray asked, smiling almost proudly. “A bride goes missing on her wedding day. The groom runs to her rescue, only to be cut down himself. That’s the sort of thing they used to write country songs about. Before country got all . . . sparkly.”

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