Wedding Bell Blues (24 page)

Pete’s smile turned fierce. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Look, I’ll talk to Reba.” Janie pushed herself up again. “It’s probably better if I do this alone. She’s more likely to listen to me after all the work we’ve done together.”

Pete nodded as he fell in step beside her again. “Okay, but we need to check in with each other. Keep in touch. Maybe have dinner.”

He was looking carefully at the other side of the street, his face neutral. Janie thought he was adorable. Also super hot.

“Right. We can get together later.”

Pete sighed. “Yeah, I guess I need to check back with my dad to see what’s happening on the other front. Call me when you’re done, okay?”

Janie sailed home, almost literally. She was pretty sure her feet were several inches above the ground. The wedding was on, Sherice was gone, Lars was smiling, and she had Pete.

Her feet hit the ground with a thud.
She had Pete?
What did that mean? She didn’t
have
Pete—nobody did. As far as she could tell, Pete preferred it that way.

And, of course, so did she. Independence. Her own apartment. The new, vaguely bitchy Janie Dupree. She started up her front walk, then stopped, her chest constricting. Suddenly, she was having trouble breathing.

Otto’s truck was parked in the driveway.

A muted pain began somewhere around Janie’s sinuses. She had a feeling Mom had something to do with this. For a moment she considered heading back toward Main, but she waited too long. Mom stepped out onto the front porch.

“Janie, honey, come inside.” She glanced a little fearfully at the houses on either side, her voice dropping. “You need to talk to him.”

No, I don’t.
On the other hand, maybe talking to Otto now would lead to a clean break. Preferably of one of Otto’s major bones.

Otto himself was sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee mug in front of him. He looked like he needed it. His complexion reminded her of bread dough—moist and pale. His brown hair was plastered against his skull as if he’d been wearing a close-fitting hat. Janie didn’t think she’d ever seen him looking quite so bad. She tried not to be delighted. Delight was beneath her. “What do you want, Otto?” she snapped.

“Janie,” her mother said from behind her, “don’t be rude. Otto is our guest. Sit down. I’ll make some sandwiches.”

Janie sat. She decided she’d save her battles for more vital things. On the other hand, she needed to dispense with extended conversations. “I don’t have time to eat right now, Mom. I’ve got errands to run. I’ll get dinner while I’m out. What was it you wanted, Otto?” She figured that sounded marginally more polite at least.

Otto turned red-rimmed eyes in her general direction. “Came to apologize,” he mumbled.

“All right.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Go ahead.”

“Janie!” Mom stood behind Otto’s chair, her eyes narrowed.

Janie gritted her teeth. “Mom, maybe you could go check the mail.”

“The mail? It’s almost five. The mail came at two.” Her mother glared at her with mutinous eyes.

“Then find something else to do in the living room, Mom.” Janie managed to keep her voice level. “Otto and I need to talk. In private.”

She watched her mother’s jaw become square, as her chin moved up. She walked stiffly toward the kitchen door, her eyes sending messages all the way.
Don’t blow it! Last chance! Good catch!
Janie looked away.

Otto took a long swallow of coffee, shuddering slightly at the taste. Janie thought about standing again to try to hurry him on his way. “So what do you have to say, Otto?”

“Well, you know.” He rubbed his eyes. “Like, I’m sorry.”

Janie swallowed down the words that leaped to her tongue. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“Well, last night.” He waved one hand in the air, vaguely. “What happened and all. I was drunk. I’m sorry.”

As an apology, she figured it ranked right up there with Helen of Troy apologizing for causing that misunderstanding with the Greeks. “Okay. You’ve said you’re sorry. Now you can go.”

“Oh come on, Janie.” Otto winced, rubbing his eyes again. “So I’m not good with apologies. I came over here to make it right. Give me some credit at least.”

She blew out a quick breath. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get the hell out of her kitchen yet. “I accept your apology, Otto, but I don’t really have much more to say about it. In fact, I don’t see that the two of us have much more to say to each other at all.”

Otto gave her an incredulous look. “You’re not gonna break up with me over this, are you? It’s not like I really cheated on you or anything.”

She stared at him, fascinated. She’d never seen self-delusion on this scale before. “What exactly would you call it?”

“I just…” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Like I said, I was drunk. And she was willing. And the Toleffsons have been like a burr in my ass all week long.”

“So this was a chance to get back at the Toleffsons?” That didn’t exactly speak well for Sherice’s charms, not that she found that idea all that upsetting, of course.

“Bunch of smartasses.” His face darkened. “He threw a dart at me.”

Janie sighed again. Had dealing with Otto always been this annoying? Probably. She just hadn’t focused on it before. “Look, Otto, let’s just forget the whole thing, all right? It’s not like we were going steady or anything. You’ve said you’re sorry, I’ve accepted your apology, we can be friends. That’s that.”

“Friends?” He glared at her. “We weren’t friends!”

“Okay,” she said through gritted teeth, “we can be distant acquaintances. Is that better?”

Otto ignored her. “We’ve been going out for weeks. You’re my girlfriend, damn it!” He pushed back his chair and stood, then leaned over her, resting his fists on the table. “What do you mean we weren’t going steady?”

Janie sat very still, staring up at him. He seemed to loom over her, like some backstreet thug. She’d never been afraid of him. She wasn’t now.
Not exactly.
“I can’t talk about this now. I’ve got things I have to do. And we both need time to cool off.”

Otto straightened, his face thunderous. “Cool off? Yeah, right. Believe me, honey, you don’t need any more cooling. You’re already so frigid you’re like a fucking icicle.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

Janie sat very still, concentrating on breathing. She wasn’t going to take anything he said seriously. She wasn’t frigid. Pete hadn’t thought so.

Had he?

She heard her mother’s step in the doorway and closed her eyes. She really wasn’t up to this right now.

“Janie?” her mother said, tentatively.

Janie pushed herself back from the table. “Mom, I’ve got to go talk to some people. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Mom watched her go with worried eyes, but Janie willed herself not to slow down or look back.

Pete parked outside the B&B where his parents were staying, trying to remember which rental car was his dad’s. If they’d gone out to dinner with Lars or Cal, he’d catch up with them later.

He tried the front door, knocking quickly when he found it was unlocked. “Hey, anybody home?”

“Just me.”

Pete froze. Sherice sat on the couch wearing a tank top made out of shiny black fabric and a skirt that ended the usual six inches above her knees.

The corners of her mouth edged up in a thin smile. “You should see your face.”

“Why?” Pete blew out a quick breath, trying to regroup.

“You look like you’ve had the shock of your life. At least I’m ahead of you for once.” Sherice looked out the window, squinting slightly.

“Is Mom here?” he asked.

Sherice shrugged. “Haven’t seen her. Is Lars coming over now?”

Pete sank into the easy chair opposite her couch. “Why? Do you want him to?”

“Not especially. I assume you’ve already closed ranks.”

“Well, we saw your little goodbye present. I figured if you wanted to make it up to him, you wouldn’t have burned your bridges.”

“There’s no point in my talking to him now, is there?” Sherice inspected her sunshine-yellow fingernails.

Pete shrugged. “Depends on what you’ve got to say, I guess.”

She glanced up at him, her mouth narrowing to a thin line. “You’re all so smart. You’ve got it all decided, haven’t you? You know who the good guys and bad guys are. What chance do I have?”

“Let me get this straight. You’re asking me to feel sorry for you, to think you got some kind of raw deal.” Pete blew out a disgusted breath. “C’mon Sherice. You were screwing a near stranger in the front seat of his truck. How is that Lars’s fault? How is that anybody’s fault but yours and Otto’s?”

She gave him a faintly feline smile. “Your mother doesn’t think it’s all my fault. She thinks you’ve all been mean to me.”

He rubbed his eyes. He had an overwhelming desire to kick Sherice in the butt. “Mom has her point of view. I have mine.”

“You should keep something in mind—all of you Toleffson boys.” Sherice leaned forward in her seat, her voice dropping to a rasp. “I’ve got Daisy. She’s with my mama. If you push me too hard, I can send them away to some place where you’ll never find her.”

Pete felt a quick surge of rage, followed by an equally quick surge of guilty delight. He managed to keep his face blank. “You’d do that to Lars? And to Daisy? They’re nuts about each other.”

“Then Lars had better think twice about throwing me out with nothing.” Sherice stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. “I’m looking for a decent settlement, and I’ve got all the cards here, Mr. Attorney of Record. Just keep that in mind.”

“I will.” He sighed. “Oh, believe me, I will. Are you staying here with Mom?”

Sherice narrowed her eyes as she opened the front door. “You never mind where I’m staying. I’ll be in touch.” She closed the door behind her with a snap.

Janie called Morgan Barrett from the car as she headed toward the Woodrose.

“The tasting room patio?” Morgan sounded mystified. “Yeah, sure, it’s available on Saturday morning. We don’t open until noon. Why do you need it?”

Janie took a deep breath. “For Docia’s wedding.”

Silence spread at the other end of the line, then a sigh. “I thought Docia was getting married at the Woodrose. I mean that’s what my invitation said.”

“She was. There’s been a slight change in plans.”

“Well, okay, I guess. What all do you need from us?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Janie turned into the Woodrose’s drive. “I’ll get back to you after I talk to Reba.”

Janie found Reba on the Woodrose’s spacious side porch, a very large glass of wine on the table beside her. Billy Kent was sitting next to her on the wicker settee, his arm draped across her shoulders.

Janie had decided that she’d tell Reba about the dresses without any preliminaries, sort of like jerking out a splinter without discussing it. Reba sat perfectly still when she’d finished, then slowly lowered her head to her folded arms.

Janie wondered if she should have indulged in some preliminaries after all.

Billy leaned forward, stroking his wife’s shoulders. “Hey there, sweet thing, we’ll take care of it. We’ll just fly in another one, and another tux too. Hell, how hard can it be?”

Reba raised her head fractionally to stare at him, then sighed, dropping her head back on her arms. “There’s no time, Billy. The wedding’s day after tomorrow. Besides, I think that bridesmaid dress I got for the sister-in-law was the last one in the country. And finding a tux for someone Lars’s size is no simple thing.”

“So we’ll figure out something else. It’s not right that Janie here can’t be in the wedding—or Lars either.” Billy’s mouth twisted. “Besides, I’ll be damned if I’ll let that goddamned little gold-digger ruin my daughter’s wedding.”

Reba sat up again, eyes narrowed. “There is that. Maybe I can get something from Dallas.”

“We had a thought.” Janie swallowed hard.

“We?” Reba raised an eyebrow.

“Pete and I, but Docia and Cal too.” Janie swallowed. “We were sort of discussing it.” If she could only get through this part of it, the rest would be minor. She took a deep breath. “Maybe we could make the wedding a little less formal.”

“Meaning?” Reba’s other eyebrow lifted as well.

“Well, we could have the wedding in the morning at Morgan’s winery. We’d all wear something we could get in town—my Mom can help us at the Lucky Lady. Then we could have the reception out here in the afternoon. Just sort of explain to everybody that this was a party for the wedding rather than the wedding itself, which would already have taken place.”

Janie’s voice trailed off. Reba and Billy both stared at her as if she’d sprouted a third eye.

“So who would come to this wedding at the winery?” Reba asked faintly.

“Well, maybe just family and close friends. I mean the patio is really beautiful, but it’s pretty small. Not like the grounds here.” Janie studied her toes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Reba. If she was going to have a meltdown, Janie would rather not know in advance.

“Family and close friends. Well, that should whittle it down some, although when you consider all those Toleffsons, it wouldn’t narrow it down a whole lot.” Reba’s voice sounded slightly choked.

Janie glanced at Billy. He looked like he was preparing himself for a nuclear attack. “Um…sweetheart…” he began.

“Fine.” Reba took a healthy swallow of wine.

Billy stared at her. So did Janie.

“Fine with me.” Reba nodded. “This whole thing spun out of control a long time ago anyway. If we went ahead with the wedding we planned, I’m afraid we’d get hit with the plagues of Moses or something. Not that that Sherice doesn’t resemble a special kind of plague all on her own.”

Billy’s face split into a cautious grin.

Reba cradled her glass in her hands. “I assume that woman will no longer be participating.”

Janie frowned. “Sherice? I think she’s gone. She cleaned out her closet anyway.”

“Perfect.” Reba drained her glass. “I don’t suppose you could get Millie Toleffson to join her.”

Janie and Billy both blinked at her. Reba waved a hand. “Forget I said that. You think you can get your mama to open up her dress shop tonight?”