Random Acts of Love (Random #5) (33 page)

Shockwaves poured through me, each slightly less intense than the one before. I slumped against Joe, his body covered in sweat. I kissed his shoulder as Trevor’s hot skin covered my back, his own bonelessness like a final orgasm that capped everything off with a perfect finale.

We were back.

“I love you,” I murmured into Joe’s neck. “Both of you. So much.”

“I love you, too,” Joe whispered into my ear.

“And I love you,” Trevor added.

We were really back.

C
HAPTER 12

Darla

Wedding time. We were at the church in the back rooms, working on our makeup, when a light tap on the door made me jolt. We were all in here—me, Mama, Josie, Marlene, and Calvin’s daughter, Jenna. Mama had asked us to just wear our nicest dresses and shoes, and we were a motley group, all right, ’cause Jenna’s best dress was a Victorian sci-fi contraption that made her look like a character from that Firefly television show crossed with Dr. Who. 

And Mama loved it.

“Ain’t Jenna got the best sense of flair, Darla?” Mama said. A flame of jealousy flared up in me. Turns out I got my own flare, too.

I never had to compete for Mama’s attention before. Josie don’t count.

Jenna gave Mama a sweet look but dipped her head. Shy, that one. She looked like a young, feminine version of Calvin and when she wasn’t hiding her face, seemed fine enough.

Stepsister. I was about to acquire a new daddy and a new sister in one simple ceremony.

“Did someone tap on the door?” Josie asked, her lips pulled down over her cheeks as she applied mascara. Eye makeup on Josie was about as common as discretion in Marlene, so this was quite a look. 

“Hello?” said two familiar baritone voices.

“You can’t be here!” Mama shrieked, her voice filled with outrage. “It’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day!”

Trevor poked his head in. “That’s only true for the groom, Cathy.”

Mama frowned, cracking the pancake makeup Marlene had plastered on her like spackle. “That’s right.” Then her mouth turned to a devious grin and she looked at me. “Guess we’ll have to worry about that when
you
get married.”

“Who’m I getting married to?” I shot back.

“Them!” Mama replied as Joe and Trevor tentatively stepped in the room.

“Both?” I said with a laugh.

Mama shrugged. “Why not?”

“Darla’s boss is marrying two men,” Josie added helpfully.

I realized Jenna was in the room, her eyes as big as two moons, eyebrows high.

“You know polyamorists?”

“Poly what?” Mama asked.

“Polyamorists. People in relationships with more than one person.”

I gave her a look. “We ain’t poly.”

Joe cleared his throat. I turned and did a double take.

They were both dressed in suits. Nice ones. And ties and shiny black shoes.

“Actually,” Joe said, “we technically are.”

“That is so cool,” Jenna said giving me a look like she was admiring me in a new light. “There are a ton of polys in cosplay.” 

“Was that Latin?” I heard Mama whisper to Josie. “’Cause I didn’t understand a single word out of Jenna’s mouth.”

“What in the hell are you doing here dressed like that?” I hissed at my guys. They looked like young Boston lawyers. 

Which was a problem at a second-chance wedding in Peters, Ohio.

Joe looked offended. “What’s wrong? Are we underdressed?” He elbowed Trevor. “I told you we should have rented tuxes at that place in the mall.”

“Tuxes? Who the hell wears a tux? Even the groom ain’t wearin’ a tux!” I whispered. 

“See what I mean?” Trevor said to Joe, a smirk marring that beautiful face. “Her accent gets really bad when she’s back home.”

“My accent don’t—” Aw, fuck. He was right.

“And her grammar goes to shit,” Joe muttered.

“You know what else happens when I come home?” I challenged them. They just looked at me, all hot and alluring, like models in a Macy’s ad. “I make you fit into my hometown. You can’t just waltz in here and apply Boston standards.”

“Boston standards would be black tie,” Joe said pointedly.

“And Peters standards means no man will wear a tie except for the groom and his men, so take those off. And the jackets. And where did you get these clothes?” I demanded.

“Some place called Boardman. Near Youngstown.” He made a contemplative face. “Reminded me of any mall area. Like Framingham or Marlborough back home.” 

“Funny how that works,” I said. “Turns out maybe we’re all more alike than you think.”

He took my hand and used his thumb to caress the back of my hand. “I understand that now.”

I glowed inside and out at that, and if it hadn’t been Mama’s wedding day, I’d have basked in it. But I was a pragmatic Mama’s girl and time was of the essence.

“Take off your jackets and put them in the car. Take off the ties. Then, you’re perfect.” I gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

“You look beautiful,” Trevor said, bending down to give me a kiss. My hair was half straightened and I had mascara on one eye, a set of Spanx sitting out like a dead pancake on the table where we had makeup set.

Two years ago I’d have made fun of myself when he said that. A year ago I’d have made fun of him. But this time, I just said, “Thank you” and gave him a kiss back. Joe came in for his own kiss and they left.

I turned around.

To face a wall of questioning, half made-up eyes all on me.

“You’re
poly
,” said Jenna, excited and congratulatory, like she hit the stepsister lottery. 

“You’re lucky,” said Mama.

“You’re running late,” said Josie.

“What’s double penetration like?” Marlene asked.

And then all the eyes turned to
her
.

* * *

The wedding was almost an afterthought in my trip. Mama and Calvin got married in a simple church and had the reception in the recreation hall below. The ceremony took twenty minutes. No one gave anyone away. Me, Calvin, Jenna and Mama all stood up front, with Marlene, Josie, and Mike in a semicircle behind us, and about twenty people—Trevor and Joe included—sat in the pews and watched.

When it was over, everyone clapped as they kissed.

Calvin had made an honest woman out of my mama.

When I was a little girl I dreamed of weddings. Made my Barbies marry Ken. My little stuffed animals had long strolls down the aisle wearing toilet paper fashioned into bridal gowns and trains. I wasn’t any different from Jane or Jenna or Mama or Josie, who all had their own inner lives and sense of what it means to love. 

Alex was in the first pew, smiling at Josie like she was the beginning and the end of his world.

He
was dressed appropriately.

As Mama kissed everyone and Calvin shook hands, I saw Trevor and Joe hanging back, uncertain.

But there.

They had come back into my world. They had bent and adapted, crossing over into my life to come and find me. Not to take me away.

To
join
me.

We could never get married like Mama and Calvin. Marriage law is binary. I knew that from my boss, Laura, and her arrangement with the two men she loved most in life. You take what you can get out of life and make the best of it.

I would never have a wedding like this. No strolls down the aisle. No marriage certificate. No swearing at the courthouse that you’re not blood cousins (and boy, you’d be amazed how many couples get tripped up by that little rule in Peters... and, even, in Boston).

And I would grieve for that loss someday, but not too hard.

Trevor’s hand was warm against the small of my back, sudden and right. “You okay?” he asked. “You seem pensive.”

“My mama just got married. I get to be pensive.”

He kissed my temple. “Of course.” His face was more mature than it was two years ago. He had a deepening to him, with strong cheekbones and a jaw set with confidence. My arm slipped around his waist. He smelled like cologne, soap, and new clothing.

Joe searched the room with evaluative eyes. I knew what he was thinking. I grabbed his hand and pulled him in.

“Nope. We’re not gonna do that. Not here. Mama wants me to be me. Me,” I said, stretching on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He wrapped a careful arm around my waist. Both guys had me now. Both.

Mike came on over, dressed in khakis and a white button down shirt. Someone had pinned a rose boutonnière to his shirt, and he had a new haircut.

“You shaved, Mike! Where’s the beard?” Joe asked, offering a polite handshake.

Mike took the three of us in with wary eyes, but smiled. “Somewhere in the bottom of a trash can back home. Along with half my head. Man, I drank too much last night. Anyone got a pill?”

I reached into my purse and handed him some headache medicine. “You’re gonna drink at the reception,” I cautioned. “You’re not supposed to mix these with alcohol.”

“Darla, honey, I got a list with two hundred and twelve things you’re not s’posed to mix with alcohol,” he said before dry swallowing the pills. “These will just have to get in line.”

We all headed slowly downstairs. I knew how this worked. Hardly anyone would come to the wedding but the reception would be packed to the gills. Which would you rather attend? A ceremony with a minister going on about God, or a reception with booze and chicken dances and a garter toss?

Right.

“Can we help, Cathy?” Trevor asked as Joe rolled up his sleeves. It was a warmer-than-usual spring day and already the reception hall was getting stuffy. Then again, maybe that was just me. Time had been kind to Trevor Connor, and my eyes were opened to how he and Joe appeared to my friends and family here in my hometown.

You know those commercials where all the women in the office ogle the naked-chested window washers, or the construction workers in a funny role reversal?

That was pretty much happening here, though Joe and Trevor were fully clothed. Every woman in the room was sneaking covert glances at my boyfriends, and I was pretty sure Jane’s brother, who had shown up to help set up the bar, was giving them the hot side-eye, too.

I was okay with that. Two years of managing the band gave me a thick skin when it came to the attentions people gave to Trevor and Joe.

“Sure, honey,” Mama said, limping over. “Can you get all the gummy bear table favors out of the cars and set them out on the tables?”

Both guys walked off to do their job as Mama turned to me and smiled, wiping a damp piece of hair off her forehead. “This is going as planned. I’m gonna need a vacation from my own wedding so I can recover from all this stress.”

“That’s what the honeymoon is for, Mama.”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “The honeymoon is for going to wineries and fucking like bunnies.” 

I just sighed. My outrage meter was long broken.

For the next thirty minutes everyone worked in harmony getting favors in place, setting out the tables for the potluck, organizing the cake and just taking great care. Mama couldn’t exactly dance easily, but Calvin had insisted, in his gentle way, that they have a DJ and do a traditional bride and groom dance and the dollar dance. 

Then they planned to hang out and leave at dawn, driving to Niagara Falls and settling in for the honeymoon.

As I watched people trickle in, carrying casserole dishes and giving Mama hugs and kisses, the reality of it all felt like a kind of oxygen that seeped into the air I breathed, filling me with energy and hope. I was back with my men, and on my terms. We’d come clean with Mama, Uncle Mike, and most of the important people (to me) in Peters, and aside from Mike, everyone had taken it all in stride.

The reception, though, was a litmus test. I’d be asked over and over by people I hadn’t seen in two years about my rock star boyfriend.

That whole duplicate part was gonna be fun. With a capital F.

As I watched more people come in, I searched faces, realizing that many of Mama’s friends had children who were here. Weddings in a tiny town like this attracted everyone; there was almost a blanket invitation. Bring some food and a decent present. Do a dollar dance with the bride. Drink (but drink less if it was a cash bar). Dance until you’re sweaty and laughing and having fun.

What more could you want from a celebration of two people finding a second chance at love?

“Hey,” Trevor said, appearing by my side, his eyes warm and appreciative. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” His arm went around my waist and he turned, facing me, pulling me in for a sweet kiss. 

I spontaneously combusted. The short time we were broken up felt like an eternity, and I’d missed this. The casual interplay in the space between us. The assumption that it was fine to kiss me. That he had access to my body. That he had permission to reach out and embrace me like this.

That’s what I’d missed.

Joe came over, a smile on his face as he looked at me with Trevor. No jealousy. Just the joy of being back together.

“Looks like this party’s getting started,” he said, looking around. I saw Jane and Davey arrive with their little boys, and Jenna gave her a big hug. At that sight, something in me tugged, a tightness that gnawed on my sense of sureness that the life I lived in Boston with the guys was the right one.

What would it be like to stay in Peters? To be on the road with the band but to make my hometown our home base? Would I be friends with Jane and get to know Jenna? Would Mama be happier and better cared for if I was here? Could I help with Aunt Marlene?

The thoughts sprinted through my head so fast, but not as fast as people began to pour in. I looked around, Trevor and Joe silent but with me, and realized I was thinking about this like I only had two options. Black or white. Stay or go.

Like love, my life didn’t have to be binary. I could forge a third way.

A DJ started up some ’70s classics, the volume low as people greeted each other. I stepped away from Trevor and Joe to go stand with Mama and Calvin. Jenna joined us and we formed a sort of loose receiving line. Most of my time was spent hugging people and avoiding being groped by the same creeps I’d spurned when I lived here.