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Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank

The Last Original Wife (31 page)

BOOK: The Last Original Wife
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I couldn't avoid him so I spoke to him.

“Hi,” I said.

“Nice party,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “It is. Danette did a beautiful job.”

“Looks like she's herself got a boyfriend, although he looks pretty young for her.”

“I think he's just right,” I said and looked at him.

I was thinking he had some nerve to make a crack like that when he was in her home and on the receiving end of her hospitality.

“Harold's not too happy about him being here,” Wes said.

“Tough noogies for Harold,” I said and smiled.

“Oh, I get it. You're saying what's good for the gander is good for the goose?”

“I'm saying nothing of the sort. I think Nader is a lovely gentleman and Harold might lighten up. He should be glad she's found someone who makes her happy. Would he rather have an ex-wife who wanted to torture him for the rest of his life? God knows, she's got grounds.”

Wes looked at me, obviously surprised by my direct remark. “Really?” he said.

“Yes, really. What's the matter with you, Wes? Is your memory really that short or do you fellas get together and rewrite history?” I said and walked away.

Maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to say, but he could not possibly have expected me to support Harold.

The night went on, people eating and drinking and taking endless pictures of each other until the young people peeled off to go to a club. Holly, who was enthralled with her new uncle Harlan, climbed up in his lap and went to sleep. We were a small group then, Danette and Nader, who mingled; Harlan and I, who listened; Paolo, Wes, and Harold, who clustered and blustered; Charlotte and Dr. Harry Chen from Shanghai, who told wonderful stories about his family and their Chinese weddings.

“So the grandmothers always have to outdo each other, and the aunties fight over everything else . . . food, music, who will design the flowers. All families are a little bit crazy,” he observed with a solemn face.

“Oh, Harry,” Danette said. “You have
no
idea how true that is!”

“Someday I'll tell you stories,” Charlotte said.

“It was a wonderful night,” I said to Danette. “Thank you.”

She nodded her head in appreciation and agreement.

“I'm so tired, but I'm so excited too. And golly, it's just so good for all of us to be together for this.”

“Yes. Yes, it is! And I'm excited too,” I said. “Come on, Harlan. Big day tomorrow.”

“Righto! Why don't I go get the car so you don't have to walk on the road in the dark?”

“That's sweet! Thanks! The key's in my bag over there.”

Charlotte gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, “See you tomorrow, Mom. I've got to get this little flower girl to bed.”

Charlotte seemed different then, as though having Holly and treating her with lots of motherly attention made her more attractive to Harry Chen. I hoped I was right.

“See you, honey. Y'all be careful going home, okay?”

Harry Chen smiled and said, “Don't worry! If anything happens, at least she's with a doctor!”

I smiled at them.

“Got 'em!” Harlan said; he tossed the keys in the air, caught them, and left with Charlotte and Harry.

“He's so great,” Danette said.

“Yeah, he really is; he's a wonderful brother. Hey, if I can do anything for you tomorrow, I'm here, okay?”

“Oh, please! You're giving the brunch and that's enough. It's a pretty small wedding so I'm hoping it will go off without any major calamities.”

“I'm sure it will be perfect.”

I was reasonably confident that it would be perfection. After all, Molly was Danette's only child.

Our brunch was lovely. People came and went because hair appointments and so forth interfered slightly with our timing, but I had figured it might be that way. It was more like an open house than a seated meal. And actually the casual atmosphere put everyone at ease. After several hours of mimosas and Bloody Marys, omelets and salads, our guests began to leave, thanking me, saying it was so nice of us to provide such a lovely meal and that they were excited to see what the rest of the day would bring. The ceremony was at six.

Harlan looked at his watch. It was almost three.

“Wow,” he said, “that was easy.”

“Yes, it was. I just paid the bill with Wes's credit card. He's going to have a cow when the statement comes at the end of the month.”

“No, he won't. He's terrified right now.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

“Because I could see it in his face last night. He was looking around at Paolo and Harold, and it was as clear as anything that he doesn't want to wind up like them.”

“Our marriage was nothing like theirs,” I said. “Tessa died and Harold ran around.”

“It doesn't matter. Wes doesn't want to die alone.”

“Who does?” I said.

CHAPTER 25

Wes—The Wedding

E
verybody has their own point of view about things. Last night at Danette's party, and I would never say this in a thousand years, I thought Harold was pathetic. There he was looking like a fool to everybody who knew the story on Cornelia. Everything about him said he was the classic lonely guy—his slouched posture, his pained expression. And I'd never admit this to Les, but she was right. Harold had no business to even entertain the idea that he was calling the shots in Danette's future. He should've put on a happy face and slapped Nader on the back and told him thanks and good luck or something. But what did he do? He sulked. It made him look juvenile. Worse than that? I knew, because he told me, that he was still seeing Cornelia on the side.

Next we have Paolo, who also looked like a dummy. There were Alicia and Suzanne, as beautiful as two young women could ever be, flirting with my crazy-ass son, Bertie, who may not be so crazy after all if he could hold their interest. And Paolo? He was still mad with his girls, but I know—because I saw him having lunch at the Ritz—that he's already dating another girl and this one's even younger. Meanwhile, he's still plotting like the CIA for how he's going to get even with his daughters.

I said,
Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is no time to quarrel!
Les was right about this too, that this was Molly and Shawn's wedding and we should all rally to make sure this is a happy memory for all parties involved. Harold should be grateful to Danette that she pulled all these festivities together and Paolo would be well advised to realize his girls were going to despise anyone he dated who seemed the least bit inappropriate.

And I saw the crowd at the brunch today and figured the bill is probably at around eight to ten thousand dollars if it was seventy-five dollars a head, which it probably was because I glanced at a menu and did some quick math. You know what? Suddenly, I didn't even mind. Les was right again. She and I are Harold and Danette's oldest friends, and it's absolutely the right thing for us to host a nice party for them. After all, what's money for? I couldn't take it with me, but if today didn't go right, Les might take it with her! And even if she didn't, was I supposed to leave it all to the kids? That made no sense! Nah! Better to enjoy it a little.

I almost missed the whole wedding because of traffic and because I couldn't find my studs, but I got there just in time. Everyone was already inside a private room having cocktails and chatting away. I slipped through the bar to take a shortcut to the party, and to my utter and complete shock, there were Lisette and Cornelia sitting up at the bar drinking some kind of pink cocktails in double martini glasses. Cosmopolitans, I think. They were dressed in provocative short dresses and high-heeled shoes, but this was nothing new for them. However, this could only mean one thing—trouble. Cornelia caught my eye, and I knew I had to say hello.

“Well, hello, ladies! What a surprise to see y'all here today!”

“Hi, Wes,” Cornelia said and offered her cheek for me to peck, which I did.

“We still have signing privileges,” Lisette said, and I pecked her cheek as well.

“And why not?” I said. Hell, it was none of my business who signed on Harold's and Paolo's accounts, but Les was right that Lisette was a dimwit. What a thing to say! “But you do know that Molly's wedding is in the ballroom in just minutes?”

“Of course,” Cornelia said. “We just wanted to take a sneak peek and then wish her well, if there's a moment that seems like it wouldn't cause a stir.”

“The last thing we want is trouble,” Lisette said. “Right, Cornelia?”

“Right,” Cornelia said and bobbed her head in the affirmative. “I just love weddings. That's all.”

“No, I didn't mean to imply
anything
!” I said and thought, Yes, I did. I thought I may have detected a slight slur in their speech. Nah, I told myself, they're nice girls. They're not really going to start any kind of nonsense, are they?

“Listen, how's this? I'll let Molly and Shawn know y'all are here and I'm sure they'll come out and say hello. Anyway, I have to rush or Charlotte will kill me if I miss Holly going up the aisle. See y'all in a bit?”

“Sure!” Cornelia said and waved her fingers in a toodle-ooo.

Oh no, I thought. Now, I was no psychic, but I knew when something bad was afoot. How could I stop them from crashing the wedding? That must've been why they were here! Why
else
would they be here? To sell Avon? No, they were here to start trouble and they were gassing up on vodka to fortify their nerve. Is this what the world had come to? Great, just great. There was no dignity anymore.

Harold, Danette, Molly, and Shawn were all sequestered with the rest of the bridal party, which included Bertie, Charlotte (to overlook Holly), Suzanne, and Alicia. This was the last thing they needed to hear at that moment. I hurried along, and as I got to the room where the cocktails were being served, people were leaving to go to the room where the service would be held. Paolo was nowhere in sight.

I hurried to the chapel and searched for Les and Harlan, spotting them almost right away. I rushed down the aisle to them and entered the row, taking a seat next to Les.

“Doesn't the room look beautiful?” Les said.

“I don't know. It looks like a wedding. Where'd you get that dress?”

“I bought it.”

“Oh. Well, it looks really nice.”

“Thanks.”

I looked her over. “And that pin? I hope it's fake.”

“It is.”

“Well, it looks good. Listen, Les, I think there's trouble on the horizon.”

“What's the matter?” she said.

“What's going on?” Harlan said.

Oh, now he had to know everything too?
But wait, I told myself, be nice to Harlan.

“Maybe I can help in some way?” Harlan continued.

“Cornelia and Lisette are in the bar getting hammered.” I said this in a low whisper and I was pretty sure no one else heard me besides Les and Harlan. “We can't let them ruin the wedding.”

The crowd continued pouring in like molten lava, moving quickly until nearly all the chairs were filled.

“Oh, dear!” Les said, obviously disturbed. “But what can we do?”

“Did you tell security?” Harlan said.

“No. That's an excellent idea!” I said. “I'll be right back.”

“Wait,” Les said, “too late.”

As I got up to leave, the music rose and Shawn, his best man, and the minister appeared on the makeshift altar, which was surrounded by thousands of white flowers. (Glad I didn't have to pay
that
bill!) And it was that kind of music I hate with a purple passion—all fruity violins and a flute. Then here came Shawn's mother on the arm of a groomsman, walking slowly with Shawn's father behind them. Next Danette walked slowly up the aisle on the arm of my Bertie, of all people, with Nader trailing behind her. I remembered right then that Bertie had an offer from CNN. But as far as the angry women who were perhaps about to do something disastrous? It was too late. I couldn't stop the wedding procession. I took a deep breath.

“Right after the ceremony,” Harlan said, “and I'll go with you. Don't worry.”

I thought, He doesn't give a rat's fanny about this. He just wants to get his money's worth out of this wedding like an old yenta. Well, actually, so did I. Maybe Harlan wasn't so bad.

“Que sera sera,” Les whispered. “Now, calm yourself down or you'll give yourself a stroke.”

I saw Les smile out of the corner of my eye, and I hoped it was because she was proud of me. It was good for her to see me attempting to do something heroic. Well, maybe heroic is too strong a word, maybe gallant is better. As soon as this ceremony was over I was going to find security and tell them the situation. It would be okay. I felt better.

“You look good in red,” I said to her.

“Thanks,” she said. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” I said.

We stood when the music swelled, and here came the bridesmaids followed by my little Holly Doodle walking very slowly, dropping rose petals and smiling. When she passed us, Les had tears rolling down her cheeks. She loved Holly so much. So did I. And our little Holly was so pretty. I took Les's hand in mine and squeezed it. She didn't jerk it away, which I took as a good sign.

Finally, the moment arrived and here came Harold with Molly on his arm. The father of the bride looked terrific. And Molly looked like an angel.

“I've known her since she was just a little girl and now she's all grown up,” Les said as she continued to quietly weep.

I handed her a tissue. Since she'd left I'd had to use tissues.

I leaned over to Les and Harlan and said as quietly as I could, “He's doing pretty good considering he just had surgery.”

“Oh, no! What happened?” Les said and Harlan leaned in to hear.

“He had a pump sewn into his, you know, his um . . . johnson.”

“Good grief!” Les said in a normal tone of voice, and half the guests turned around. Then she whispered. “Why?”

“I'll explain it to you later,” I said. I forgot that Les didn't know about the world.

“If I'd known, I would've sent flowers,” Harlan said, deadpan.

Even I had to chuckle at that.

BOOK: The Last Original Wife
8.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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