The Shortest Distance Between Two Women (38 page)

And, of course, the location of Thanksgiving dinner, not to mention next week’s Sunday brunch. Where in the hell would that be located? What about Christmas? And holy everything—is Robert Dell moving in with Marty?

The questions and answers are paused as Emma refocuses on the marriage vows just as her mother says “You bet I do” and the
entire crowd that has swarmed around the pavilion and is standing on tables, beer kegs, boxes and each other’s shoulders seems to take a collective sigh that sounds like a very loud owl saying “Oh” into a sweet and soft wind.

When Emma looks sideways she sees that Susie Dell has now turned her whole attention to her father. Robert looks exactly like a gentle white knight and Emma wouldn’t be surprised if a horse suddenly galloped into the park, Robert tossed Marty over its back, and they rode off together into the South Carolina sunset. Susie Dell has kind of a half smile riding on her own lips and she is crying.

Emma moves closer to her so that their arms touch and she rolls her right shoulder so that Susie Dell knows she understands. When Susie Dell turns to look at her, Emma winks and then she cannot help it, and she starts to cry and then Susie Dell moves her shoulder the same way and they both smile and then turn their heads at the exact same moment.

It is the moment when Robert Dell says “I do” and then the minister pronounces them not man and wife but “a married couple” and then quickly adds that the bride will be keeping her name and the groom will be keeping his name.

“They’re hip,” Susie whispers.

“No kidding,” Emma whispers back, thinking she and Susie are acting like two grade-school girls.

And then the bridal couple is kissing and Robert drops Marty to his knee like he did the day Emma had to help them get up, but first he turns to Emma and says, “I’ve been practicing,” and then he dips her and they kiss again and then about four hundred Gilfords start clapping and whooping and whistling and they don’t stop until Robert invites them for champagne and cake and toasts on the far side of the park.

“I can see that, Dad,” Susie Dell says, falling into her father’s arms. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Oh, Daddy, no, are you kidding? I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun! And now look,” she sweeps her hand behind her as if she is moving it through water, “I’ve suddenly got this whole family, all those damn siblings I never had to fight and argue with before, and the best thing is that I’ll get to come back to the reunion next year, too.”

Marty goes to Emma first. She holds open her arms and doesn’t say a thing but then pulls back and wipes Emma’s tears with the long white silk scarf that she has wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’m not mad either, Mom,” Emma shares. “Just stunned, for crying out loud. Thank heavens no one around here has heart problems.”

“Actually, I hope this helps you get over your heart problem,” Marty states.

“Mother, what are you talking about?”

“That Samuel person maybe.” Marty leans in for a kiss. “But from the lovely smile on your face I can tell you may have some of the choosing figured out.”

And then Marty and Robert are off hugging and kissing Erika, Debra, the husbands and all the grandkids before they head towards the champagne-and-cake reception that is already swarming with relatives who know a good thing when they see it.

And still the surprises are not over.

While an assortment of cousins, uncles, aunts and what looks
like a few dozen people who were having a picnic and decided to stay for the reception, sip champagne, a band is busy setting up under the pavilion. The reception, so it seems, is far from being over.

Maybe, Emma thinks as she fills up her glass for the third time, it’s because there is a microphone over there and the Gilfords, who are about as unassuming as armed guards in front of a bank, will be able to offer up more toasts and listen to each other through an amplified sound system.

Susie Dell breezes through the crowd and continues to count her blessings as she tries with utter success to hug and kiss each and every new member of her extended-by-marriage family.

And Ms. Dell doesn’t know about the microphone thing and about the way Gilfords will be toasting and roasting each other until the little park Boy Scout security guard tries in vain to get them to shut down the music and go home.

She doesn’t know about the unabashed way that Gilfords hug and kiss each other without asking for consent.

Poor Susie Dell may not have even heard about the Sunday family brunch and the Christmas Eve volunteer program that has them all serving dinner at the Charleston homeless shelter after they have, of course, purchased and cooked the dinner.

Susie Dell doesn’t know about the planned intervention and that soon she will be inside of an adorable tiny bus headed for the Miss Higgins pageant with a sign in her hand that says
Stephie Rocks
.

Lovely Susie doesn’t know where her father is going to live the day after tomorrow and as Uncle Mikey grabs her by the waist, flings her over his shoulder and carries her onto the dance floor, she could really care less about anything but that.

Emma is happy. She is glowing almost as much as her mother. And just when she didn’t think she could love her sisters or mother any more, she feels as if she might burst.

The band is an umm-pa-pa mess of old farts who are playing everything from Al Hirt hits to Tom Jones singles, even if the lead singer couldn’t carry a tune if it was the last bucket of drinkable water on the face of the earth. It’s not really the tone of the music but what the crowd seems to be able to do on the rolled-down piece of plastic that is being used as an improvised dance floor.

Actually, that’s one more thing the Gilfords are pretty darn good about. They can improvise as if they are on Broadway. They can have fun at funerals. They can throw down a piece of plastic and dance as if they have just been picked as the final couple in
Dancing with the Stars
. They can show up at a hot-dog-eating, beer-drinking family reunion and quickly turn it into the most fascinating and fabulous wedding reception ever recorded.

Not that Susie Dell even cares about that as she is being swept across the plastic upside down and sideways by that dashing Uncle Mikey, who apparently
is
single and has been taking dancing lessons since the last family wedding.

By ten p.m. Joy has been safely removed and is sleeping it off, hopefully for one of the last times, back at her house, and Stephie and her cousins have managed to turn Robert’s car into a beer-can-pulling, streamer-lined, badass wedding car.

It is a work of art, Emma agrees, as Stephie snags her for a final inspection just moments before Robert and Marty are about to flee for their night at a coastal resort.

“Can you believe this day?” Stephie asks, leaning up against
the orange, black, red and yellow crepe paper flowers she has helped stick all over Robert’s car windows. “It’s like some kind of wild fiesta that’s on crack.”

“Forget the crack,” Emma corrects her. “I’m thinking mainlining heroin between the toes and under the armpits.”

“You know, this is the kind of stuff I tell my friends about and they do think I’m on crack,” Stephie shares, standing next to her and crossing her arms in exactly the same way.

“They’re jealous because they probably hold their family reunions at little restaurants and are home before dark,” Stephie adds, then lets out a huge breath and leans her head against Emma’s shoulder.

Emma puts her arm around Stephie and feels the weight of the day fold around both of them like a blanket. She’s finally tired, more like exhausted, and yet she also feels exhilarated.

“Did you know?” Stephie asks.

“Know what?” Emma asks, not daring to move an inch lest this magic Stephie moment burst.

“That they were going to get married.”

“Not a clue.”

“I guess we are all dumbasses.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, come on, Auntie Em. They went away, to that island together. They have been inseparable and it’s time Grandma like, you know, got on with the rest of her life.”

“What do you think she was doing with her life till now?”

“Not waiting,” Stephie tells her. “But kind of waiting while she ran the rest of the world.”

But Stephie says she looks so darn happy and so beautiful and
then Stephie says she hopes to God she gets the good-looking-grandma genes so she can look that hot when she’s in her seventies.

“That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Stephie asks, lifting up her head.

“Looking hot?”

“No, silly. Being happy. That’s the most important thing.”

“You’ve got it.” Emma is amazed that Stephie knows something so important at such a young age. “It’s nice to be loved and to love, too.”

“Then I’m in already,” Stephie declares planting a huge wet kiss on Emma’s cheek just as Marty and Robert come racing up to the car, looking as if they cannot wait to kick off their wedding shoes and leave the wild party behind.

The party, it seems, is following them to the car and Robert quickly flags down his new granddaughters and says it’s time to hit the road.

Then Marty remembers she didn’t order a bouquet but instead donated the money they would have spent on flowers to the food pantry. But Marty Gilford hates to disappoint. She thinks fast, which has always been one of her many, many strong traits and quickly unravels the long white silk scarf from around her neck. She’ll use that instead of the bouquet.

“Back up,” she orders Emma.

Emma backs into the crowd and Marty raises her hands while Robert looks at her as if he has just won the grand prize in the biggest lottery ever held in the United States of America.

Then she turns in a circle three times and stops so that she is once again looking right into Emma’s eyes.

And she does not so much toss as throw the scarf right into Emma’s face so it is impossible for Emma not to catch it.

And when Emma opens her eyes again she sees Marty smiling at her as if she too has just won the lottery and before she drops down to get into the backseat she says, “There you go, Emma Gilford.”

Then Emma turns and Susie Dell and Erika are standing right next to her like bodyguards.

“Emma, Susie and I have to tell you something. Something kind of big. It’s about Samuel.”

As her mother’s final words bounce through her head, Emma stands in Marty and Robert’s car exhaust fumes and listens.