Taming Theresa (17 page)

The wedding party began mingling with their
friends and relatives on the lawn before the Methodist Church.

Theresa tapped her cousin on the shoulder and
told her, "I'm going over to the restaurant and check on
everything, okay?" Vicky nodded and smiled.

Theresa turned to John. "Please, I need to
get to the reception right away and I can't drive in this dress. We
need to go, before the other guests, if possible."

"Sure. We'll take your car," he said,
pointing to the parking lot. "It's right there and I want to feel
how it rides with those new tires."

"Okay, let's just go. I want to get over
there right away." As they hurried to the car she told him, "My
brothers left it unlocked and my purse is in the trunk. Keys are in
the visor."

John trailed behind her. "Take it easy, my
foot still hurts. What's your hurry anyway?"

"Your foot?" She frowned. "Oh yeah. You
deserved that."

John grinned at her. "It was so worth
it."

Theresa rolled her eyes. "Let's just go. Get
in the car and drive."

"Yes ma'am." John saluted as he opened her
car door. "I'll run all the red lights."

"Don't be funny." She sat carefully arranging
the long bridesmaid dress. "There's only one light in the whole
town."

John slid in next to her and adjusted the
seat and mirrors.

"Please, can we just go? I have a couple
things I need to do there," she pleaded.

"Failure to plan ahead on your part does not
constitute an emergency on mine." John quoted.

"If I don't do what my mother has
asked...."

"Heaven forbid!" he said, feigning shock.
"Why didn't you say so before?" He started the engine with a roar
and pulled out of the lot. "Hi-yo, Silver! Away!" he called out
dramatically as he turned onto the street waving at friends heading
for their own cars.

Theresa leaned back and closed her eyes. "You
are a nut."

John grinned. "My bad. You know something
funny happened the other day. Did I tell you something was stolen
from my car?"

"No. You told me no one ever bothers to lock
their cars or houses around here because it's so safe. I think you
made some smart-ass comment about all the crime down in Jersey. Can
you drive a little faster?"

"I'm serious. I had a wedding present for
Jack and Vicky in my car and when I went to look for it this
morning, it wasn't there. I know I put it in the trunk. Somebody
had to have taken it. That's pretty low down, to steal a wrapped
present."

"Are you sure you even remembered to buy a
present?" she asked. "Men don't usually think of those things.
Besides, you should've given it to them before now. You never give
it on the day of the wedding, if you can avoid it. It's simply not
done."

"Well I did buy one," he insisted. "I even
had it wrapped and then I stuck it in my trunk. This morning it was
gone. Somebody took it right out of my car."

At the tavern, John let Theresa out at the
back door and went to park the car. Entering the back room, she
went directly to the long head table, pulled back the tablecloth,
but there was nothing there. I know this is where Diane said she
put it. Maybe somebody moved it?

She looked around and saw Fred, the
bartender, deftly creating thin lemon and lime slices for
cocktails. She hurried over to the bar. "Fred, have you seen a bag,
or package around. Diane Vandersmoot left it in here the other day.
It's kind of important."

Fred frowned and shook his head. "Can't say I
have, Terry. Might ask Ralph." He pointed to the other end of the
room. "Don't the tables look great? We've got a bottle of red and a
chilled white on each table. Do you like how everything looks?"

She swept her eyes over the room and turned
back to Fred. "It's great! Do you know where Ralph is?"

"Dunno, maybe look in the kitchen? He was in
here a minute ago." Voices and a faint clatter of dishes could be
heard coming from the kitchen.

Theresa saw the beautiful five-tier cake on
its own little round table, with no bride and groom on the top. She
turned and headed rapidly for the door, her heels beating a rhythm
on the hard wood of the dance floor until she winced. "Ouch."
Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she went looking for Ralph. He was
nowhere in sight, but she did see her mother and father coming
through the front door. Damn, I've got to find those things and get
them on the cake before Ma sees it.

"Terry, got a minute?" It was Kay, behind
her. "The DJ just pulled up out back. Says he's running a little
late. Where should he set up?"

"Oh, no. I forgot about the DJ. He should've
been here hours ago. The guests will be arriving in a few minutes."
Theresa looked helplessly at the cake. "Okay, I'll take care of it.
Have you seen Ralph?"

Kay looked around the room. "He was here a
minute ago. You look in the kitchen?"

"No, not yet. That's my next stop."

The figure of Tom Benedict, a local DJ,
appeared in the doorway behind Kay smiling sheepishly and beckoning
with one crooked finger. With his mullet haircut, diamond earring,
and facial features centered too closely together, he wasn't hard
to pick from a crowd.

"Kay, if you see Ralph, tell him I need to
ask him something. I'll see what the DJ needs."

"Sure thing, Terry. I'll see if he's in the
kitchen."

Getting all the last minute items nailed down
so everyone could enjoy themselves was always the most difficult
part of entertaining. She helped Tom get his sound system wedged
into the corner, gave him strict instructions about volume, and
looked over his play list of requested songs one last time.

Guests were already milling around the
polished antique bar along the rear wall near the door. She saw
John in conversation with his friend Vince, the police officer.
When he saw her watching him, he grinned, toasting her with his
beer glass.

Theresa felt a tug at her elbow. She turned
to see her mother's smiling face. "Honey, the room is very nicely
done. You did a beautiful job. Everything is lovely. Now, where's
Victoria's wedding cake? I'll bet it's just gorgeous."

"Ma, I'm kind of busy here at the moment. Why
don't you and Daddy get something to drink? Vicky and Jack will be
here any minute," she said, trying to distract her mother.

"That's okay; your father is getting me
something already. I want to see the cake. Cousin Carol does such a
beautiful wedding cake, and to drive it all the way up from
Hackensack? You need to thank her."

John had somehow materialized beside her.
"Mrs. Buonadies, You look absolutely lovely. Terry? Don't you think
your mom looks lovely?"

"Ma, you do look very nice," Theresa
agreed.

Rose Buonadies turned her hundred-watt smile
in John's direction. "John! It's so nice to see you. You look very
handsome in that tux." She elbowed her daughter in the ribs. "Do
you see how handsome?" She raised her eyebrows and gave her
daughter a knowing look.

She sighed. "Yeah, Ma. I saw."

John responded with his best "aw shucks"
school boy grin.

Her mother glanced around, then asked him,
"John where is your date? You didn't come alone did you?"

"Mrs. Buonadies, I have the honor of
escorting your daughter this evening." He drew Theresa into a
friendly hug.

Her mother and John were such an irritating
combination. Theresa turned to him, rolling her eyes. "Ma, Vicky
and Jack will want to see you as soon as they get here. The bar is
right there, and there's wine on all the tables. You and Daddy are
sitting at that first table there, on the left."

"Theresa, Honey." Rose rested a hand on her
daughters arm. "Don't worry, your father and I can take care of
ourselves. Oh look! There's your Aunt Henrietta." Forgetting the
wedding cake for the moment, she moved away and took her husband's
arm. "Dom," she called. "Let's say hello to Henrietta."

Finally, she's leaving. Theresa was relieved
to see her mother bustle off. The room had filled with wedding
guests talking, laughing, and hugging one another. A musical rattle
and clink came from the bar as Fred filled their orders. Tom
Benedict had some soft music playing. Kay and another waitress
circulated with trays of appetizers. Theresa surveyed the room with
satisfaction, bride and groom cake toppers temporarily
forgotten.

John pressed a glass into her hand. "Vodka
martini with an olive." He raised his own glass and tapped
hers.

"Thanks," she sighed, taking a sip. "It's
always a little nerve racking when an event is getting started.
There are so many little last minute details. Everything is working
out, except for one small problem."

"And that would be?" John asked. "Maybe I can
help."

"I've got to find those cake toppers and get
them on the wedding cake before my mother realizes they're
missing." Theresa turned to look at the cake.

"Oh my god! That son of a bitch!" She
couldn't believe her eyes. "The nerve of that bastard." A lightning
bolt of hot anger zigzagged across her brain.

"What? Who are you talking about?" John
asked.

She sputtered incoherently, then growled,
"It's him." She pointed at Anthony DePalma entering the room.

"Hey, I've seen that guy around. He's been in
here before, a few days ago. Who is he?" asked John.

She didn't answer, but drained her glass and
slammed it down on the table behind her with an angry thump. "I
can't believe he's got the nerve.... Who the hell does he think he
is?"

"What did he do to you?" John recognized the
dangerous shrill tone of her voice. It was the last thing he'd
heard just before she'd slugged him a week earlier.

"He asked me to marry him," she spat,
trembling with anger.

"Well, he is an ugly dude, but that's not an
insult in my book," John reasoned.

Angry tears filled her eyes. "We were
engaged. Our parents are close, and I know it's what they always
wanted. Then I walked in on him with my best friend, Maryanne. Oh
my god, there she is! He brought that puttanna to the wedding!"

John looked over at the girl hanging on
DePalma's arm. "I don't believe it. You're shitting me."

"I didn't think he'd sink this low. Bad
enough he shows his face, but to bring her along?"

"That's incredible!" John stared in
amazement.

"I know, I know. Oh my god," she sobbed.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever
met. I can't believe you agreed to marry that creep. Then he hops
in bed with that girl, while he's engaged to you?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Some friend."

Diane interrupted them. "Hey guys, bride and
groom are here. Come on, we've got to make our grand entrance." She
hustled them out the rear door into the hallway.

John leaned into her and whispered, "If I
ever had a girl as beautiful as you are, I'd...."

Just then, the DJ announced in a deafening
voice, "And now, please welcome the maid of honor, Theresa
Buonadies and her escort, groomsman, John Van Wart!"

"Why do all disc Jockeys have to be so loud
and obnoxious?" John grumbled. "You'd think he was the big deal
here and not Vicky and Jack."

"You think I'm beautiful?" It was Theresa's
turn to be amazed.

"How about a big round of applause for
Theresa and John. Let's hear it!" Benedict's voice was followed by
a feedback squeal from his sound system.

"I'm just saying...." His last comment was
drowned out by cheers and applause as Jack and Vicky entered the
doorway behind them.

John sat down next to her balancing two
double martinis. "Here, maybe you'd like another drink."

"No thanks, I have to drive tonight, and I've
already had some wine." Theresa picked at her salad for a minute,
then dropped her fork, picked up her wine glass and drained it. "I
can't eat," she spat out angrily.

Shrugging, John reached over, slipped her
salad plate onto his own, and began to eat.

"How could he have the gall to show up here?"
Grabbing the neck of the red wine bottle, she sloshed a few inches
into her empty glass then drank. "I'm not going to make a scene
because I don't want to ruin Vicky's day, but the nerve.... Damn, I
hate him!"

"So that's Tony, huh?" John surreptitiously
switched her wine glass with the martini he'd brought her as he
commented, "I can't believe you were dating the guy. He's not much
to look at, is he?"

"He's a bastard, but it's even worse than
that." She jabbed her fork at Tony. "You see the woman he's with?
That's Maryanne, my freakin' best friend." She sipped the
martini.

"Here you are," said Kay as she served them
the pasta course.

"Wow, thanks Kay," said John tucking in his
napkin. "I love fettuccine Alfredo."

"I gave you an extra large portion." She
winked, and then continued down the table.

"I thought she was my friend until I found
the two of them screwing." She was angrily twirling the stem of her
glass watching the liquid spin around the olive, and then she
tossed the rest down quickly.

"Must not have been a very good friend. Could
you pass the cheese?"

"Sure."

Thanks." He forked in some pasta and shook
his head. "I don't understand how that guy is so lucky with
women."

"I caught them in the act. Right in the
middle of..., well never mind. I can't believe I was such a fool."
Tears welled up in her eyes and she reached with one hand for her
napkin and his martini glass with the other.

"You're not a fool. Everybody makes stupid
mistakes. If it'll make you feel better, I'll take him out back and
rough him up a bit."

She smiled through her tears. "You'd do that
for me?"

He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug.
"Sure. Forget Tony. He's not worth crying over. And why is it that
women cry at weddings? It's a happy time for women, right? Hey, are
you going to eat that?" he said, pointing at her barely touched
plate.