Sinners Football 02- Wish for a Sinner

by Lynn Shurr

  EIGHTEEN

  The wedding party arrived in Vegas on a chartered flight by early afternoon of the next day. If it had been up to Joe who shoved an expensive dark suit, white shirt and silk tie into a garment bag and tossed his shaving kit, shoes and socks in the bottom, they would have been there by dawn, but Nell dug in her heels about asking her parents and sister to go along.

  “Aren’t you going to call and invite your family, Joe?”

  “Hell, no. I’ll have to listen to all that stuff about having a wedding in the church and how you should take instruction and why the rush. Then, I’ll have to explain about Dean. After that, all my sisters would be on the phone and we’d never get to Vegas. They’ll be happy for us and thrilled about a new grandbaby after the fact. I’ll set aside a whole day to listen to their lectures. So, no Billodeauxs at the wedding. I am definite about this.”

  Gary, stunned, and Emily, excited, phoned into work giving a family emergency as an excuse while Ann packed overnight bags and wrung her hands. They met Nell and Joe at the apartment where Nell still pondered what to wear while Joe tapped his fingers on the doorframe. Her mother held up the white dress with the cornflower print, the one Nell wore the first time she’d had sex with Joe.

  Joe brightened. “I have some fond memories of that dress.”

  Nell shook her head. “No, too Monica Lewinsky,” she said, leaving her mother to ponder the meaning.

  “Buy a dress in Vegas, Nell. Let’s move.” Joe stood in the doorway jingling car keys.

  “Did you leave numbers where the hospital could reach us?”

  “Yes, both our cells.”

  Nell opened a drawer and plucked out the burgundy nightie from Victoria’s Secret. She folded it and placed it in a small suitcase over a change of lacy underwear and next to her makeup bag.

  Joe noted with pleasure the price tag still on the nightie. “Never wore this for anyone else, huh? That’s all you need. We’ll get whatever else in Vegas.” Joe snapped the case shut and started out the door.

  “Toothpaste. Did you pack toothpaste?”

  “Nell, they have toothpaste in Nevada.” He took her hand to move her on her way. It was shaking. He swept her up and held her close to his heart.

  “Things will be fine, sugar, more than fine.” Not wasting any more time, he carried his bride through the living room. “Gary, please bring her suitcase.”

  Emily objected. “Aren’t you supposed to save that for the honeymoon?”

  “You still coming, Em?” Joe said as he backed out the door and started down the steps with Nell held in an inescapable grasp.

  He’d have to take them all in the Toyota or the group would never get to the airport. Joe deposited Nell in the front seat and started packing suitcases in the trunk as her family dribbled one by one down the stairs. Laying his garment bag on top of the pile, he slammed the lid and opened both back doors of the car for his in-laws to be.

  Emily pouted about having to sit in the middle until Nell screamed, “For crying out loud, I’ll sit in the middle.”

  She unstrapped her seatbelt and slid into the back seat. That was the way the bride’s family got on the road with the groom driving and his prospective sister-in-law gloating in the front seat. The more Joe got to know Emily, the more he disliked her. Nell gone bad, he thought.

  At the airport, the Rev and Connor with an arm around Stevie waited. All three wore dark glasses and Braves ball caps, jeans and Tshirts. Stevie carried her camera bag and a small knapsack. The men stood with garment bags slung over their shoulders.

  “Mintay couldn’t get away from the clinic, but she sends her very best wishes,” the Rev said squeezing Nell’s hand.

  “I wanted to get married in Reno, but Connor and the Sinners had to have a big party. I held out for the private wedding though,” Stevie added.

  “You’ve been to Las Vegas before, Stevie?” Nell asked in a small voice, taking in the sight of three gorgeous people who traveled light, and often.

  “Yeah, when the golf tour went that way. Bright lights, good food, great entertainment. Very plush if you can afford it. He can, so don’t hold back,” Stevie advised with a nod at Joe who was unloading in-laws and baggage.

  “Connor, some help here, man.”

  Connor draped his garment bag over the Rev’s free shoulder and went to assist by picking up two suitcases and shoving Nell’s small bag under his arm. Herding Mr. And Mrs. Abbott before him, he headed for the steps of the chartered corporate jet.

  “Watch your step, ma’am,” he cautioned Nell’s mother.

  Hips swinging beneath a very short black skirt, Emily cut into the line and mounted the stairs, her butt practically in Connor’s nose. “I don’t think I like that one,” Stevie muttered to the Rev and went to back up her husband.

  Joe tugged Nell’s hand because she seemed frozen to her spot and brought her along with the remaining luggage. The Rev tipped an airport employee to take care of the car and off they went for a wedding in Vegas.

  Joe made the situation very clear to the management of the Bellagio as he gestured toward the group of women. “This is my bride and her maids. This is my platinum card. She can buy anything she wants. I’ll need the closest thing you’ve got to a honeymoon suite and two more two bedrooms.”

  The staff happily honored his requests. Joe had been to Vegas often, usually with a well-endowed blonde or two on his arms. The manager eyed the rangy blonde, the short brunette in the tight skirt and the petite waif with the big eyes as if to say Mr. Billodeaux’s tastes were expanding. Who did he think Mrs. Abbott was—their madam?

  Regardless, “We are pleased to be of assistance,” the manager said with an efficient nod of the head.

  “Nell, you, Stevie, Em and Mom, get yourselves dressed up. We meet back here at five and take cabs to the chapel. Rings, I’ll take care of the rings. Let’s go.” Joe clapped his hands together and strode off leading the men.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t pat your behind and make you pump your fist in the air,” Stevie drawled.

  “Hey, he left his platinum card. I’m ready to shop.” Emily rubbed her hands together.

  “I’m not ready. Stevie, I’m not ready,” Nell appealed to the tall blonde who looked so right when she stood next to Connor. She’d seem like a child standing beside Joe, all five foot-one, one-hundred and two pounds of her. What an absurd couple they would make.

  “Been there myself.” Stevie led her to a beautifully upholstered lobby chair away from Nell’s anxious mother and mouthy sister. “Look, Joe can be childish and he is certainly spoiled and used to getting his own way. But I’ll tell you, Nell, no one cares more for the people in his life or takes his vows more seriously. You will be fine.”

  “If you are finished with the pep talk, can we shop?” Emily complained.

  Shop, they did. Nell dazed and seemingly without opinions allowed her attendants to drape her in white leaving one finely-boned shoulder bare and cinching in her waist with a gold belt. The hemline slanted to one side to show a glimpse of thigh. Stevie and Emily found similar gowns in light blue and pale green that could be cinched in silver only after she and Em had a fight over a sexy red number that was totally inappropriate for a wedding. Well, maybe not in Vegas.

  Mrs. Abbott supported Stevie by saying, “I brought my pale pink silk-linen shantung suit that I wore for Easter services, Emily. We should all be in pastels, I think.”

  “Hell, buy the red dress and take it home with you. It’s Joe’s money. I vote for low heels. We might as well be comfortable,” Stevie asserted.

  “Fine for you, Miss Giant,” Emily grumbled. “Nell will look like a child.”

  “Oh, no!” Nell gasped, the tabloid headlines that had surfaced after Stevie’s reception coming into her mind.

  “She’s just jerking your chain because she wants stilettos. Would some nice bling-bling at the jeweler’s shut you up?” Stevie towered over Emily.

  “Oh, I can be bribed,” Emily said.

&
nbsp; “I brought my good pearls,” Ann Abbott added. “I don’t need a thing.”

  Stevie stood over the florist while he wove a crown of stephanotis with a wisp of tulle attached for the bridal veil. “I like real flowers. I wore a daisy crown for my wedding. Veils, trains and all that shit just get in the way, don’t you think, Nell?”

  “I guess.”

  “Stop guessing. If you want something else, say so.”

  “Really, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Okay, then. Two more of these without the netting.”

  “We could have gotten tiaras at the jewelry store,” Emily pointed out.

  “The day you see me in a tiara, I’ll be dead. Be satisfied you soaked Joe for a platinum necklace with an emerald drop.”

  “Well, you got one with a sapphire.”

  “I had to so we would match. A silver chain would have been fine with me.”

  “Girls, girls!” Mrs. Abbott interrupted. “Don’t argue.”

  Nell smiled at her mother. “It’s like old times, Mom.”

  “Who would have thought sickly Nell would marry before me? She gets a rich, hunky guy and a baby she doesn’t even have to lug around for nine months. No stretch marks, no labor. Nell always comes out on top,” Emily groused. The details of the marriage had come out on the plane ride and sister still showed her envy.

  “Good for you, Nell. Joe is a great guy and I’ll bet that child of his is beautiful,” Stevie countered.

  “Well, Deanie was red in the face and full of snot the last time I saw him.” Nell looked at herself in a mirror as the florist fitted the headpiece over her short, dark hair.

  “Looks great.” Stevie sniffed the flowers. “Make some of this stuff up as boutonnieres, four of them. And Mom here, will need a corsage. How about gardenias? We’ll be back for the bouquets in an hour. Gotta make tracks, ladies. Hair and makeup next.”

  Joe arrived at the jewelry store with his groomsmen and almost father-in-law after they finished watching a baseball game on the tube up in Connor’s suite. Baseball and a stiff vodka drink from the bar calmed him about the upcoming event.

  “I need matching wedding rings and a diamond—a big one,” Joe told the suited clerk who started to pull a velvet tray from the glass case. “And no crap, either.”

  The salesman shoved the tray back into place and selected another.

  “I don’t see the difference.” Joe peered at the glittering stones.

  “Cut, color and clarity,” the Rev instructed.

  Connor shrugged. “Stevie isn’t much for jewelry. She says it gets in her way and she doesn’t like the idea of getting mugged in New Orleans or some foreign country for what she had around her throat.”

  “Also the number of carats,” said the clerk. “These are top quality stones. Do you have any idea what cut the bride would prefer?”

  “No idea. How about a really big solitaire? Can’t go wrong there, huh?”

  “Nell has such small hands. You don’t want to overwhelm her,” Gary Abbott cautioned.

  “Oh, are you with the bridal party who came in here earlier? Two little brunettes, tall blonde, older woman? They selected a diamond choker for the bride—tiny girl, very nervous—and platinum necklaces with colored stones for the bridesmaids. I have matching bracelets if you are in need of gifts for the young women,” the clerk hinted, obviously adding up the commission in his mind. He smoothed his nicely trimmed mustache. The gesture would have been his tell if he were playing poker.

  “Do we need gifts for the bridesmaids?” Joe asked.

  “Most definitely. I had to shell out for seven,” the Rev answered.

  “Yeah, I think so. The bride is supposed to do that, but Nell was looking a little shaky. She might not remember,” Connor added.

  “Okay, then. Show me the bracelets, matching rings, and a really spectacular diamond that won’t look too big on her hand. You guys need gifts? Want a Rolex?”

  “Got a Rolex. How about diamond pinkie rings?” the Rev suggested.

  “Pimps wear diamond pinkie rings.” Connor elbowed his friend. They shoved at each other.

  “If you break it, consider it sold,” the clerk snapped. He presented the bracelets draped over a velvet cloth and suggested a ring set with a many-faceted stone so blue-white it could have put an iceberg to shame on a sunny day. Joe picked out a wide, plain gold band for himself and a slimmer one inlaid with channel cut diamonds for Nell.

  “Think she’ll like it?” he said, consulting Gary.

  “She’ll be overwhelmed. Our Nell, she hasn’t asked for much since we moved the household for her. I think she still feels guilty about that.”

  “I know. Wrap all this stuff up. Guys, if you want something, you pick it out yourself. I am finished.”

  Connor and the Rev joked around about earrings and nose studs, then settled on Mont Blanc pens to commemorate the day Joe Dean Billodeaux promised to be faithful to one woman.

  The women kept the up the traditions as best they could. Stevie sent Mrs. Abbott to meet the men in the lobby and insist they take a cab to the chapel since they were not to see the bride before the wedding. Ann softened those orders by observing how handsome they were in their suits and ties.

  “Best lookin’ groomsmen in the league,” the Rev agreed.

  Without any argument, the four men crushed themselves into a cab with Gary riding the hump between Connor and the Rev and left for the chapel.

  Getting the women moving proved harder, Stevie found, but eventually, they crammed into a small powder room at the chapel where each made last minute adjustments to her clothes and makeup after the taxi ride.

  “Are you sure I look all right? Not silly or childlike?” Nell fretted.

  “You look lovely, dear,” her mother assured, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Believe me, Joe will appreciate the nymph look. When this is over, you can go back to the room and play wine god pursuing dryad or maybe, Viking ravishing village maiden,” Stevie encouraged. “Connor and I enjoy that last one.”

  “How about horny Cajun raping Evangeline?” Emily nudged her sister away from the mirror and added another layer of mascara to her eyelashes.

  “He’s so big and Nell is so small.” Ann Abbott held her hands far apart, probably indicating the breadth of Joe’s shoulders, or maybe not.

  Stevie snickered. “Sorry. Mrs. Abbott, I think Nell and Joe have already established that they are compatible on the size issue. Stop worrying. There, that brought some color to the bride’s cheeks. I hear the music cranking up. It must be our turn. Everyone out of here! Ann, you go in first and make sure the men are lined up. Send your husband out. I’ll start down the aisle, then Emily, then Nell.”

  The effect was spoiled by Stevie glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure the bride would make it to the altar. With Mr. Abbott holding his daughter’s arm and looking very serious, Nell managed the short walk without fleeing or collapsing.

  Joe, shifting on his feet, watched the woman he was about take as a wife walk slowly into his life forever. She looked pale and hesitant. Was marrying him so bad?

  Joe glanced around the room. Sure, the entry to the chapel was surrounded by a pink neon heart, probably so drunks could find the door, but the place had plenty of artificial flowers and nice piped-in music. Okay, you could call the place tacky compared to the mellow bricks and old stained glass of the church where the Rev had married Mintay. The chapel didn’t have the simple beauty of Connor’s wedding by the lakeside either. Sorry, this was the best he could do right now. He’d make it up to Nell one of these days.

  Nell’s father stepped aside. Connor nudged Joe into position next to his bride. The preacher or facsimile thereof, guided the couple through a brief but traditional service read from a book that may or may not have been a Bible.

  Nell’s eyes widened at the opulence of her rings hanging loosely, a size too large, on her finger. Joe’s ring, a perfect fit, slid on easily. “Are you sure, Joe?” Nell w
hispered as she put it on his finger.

  “I, uh, just wanted to say I’ll be a faithful husband like I promised and a good father, and someday, I’ll give you a better wedding than this. I love you, Nell.” Joe exhaled.

  The presiding official, a stout man in a white suit and black string tie, who, thank God, looked nothing like Elvis, pronounced them man and wife in a slightly offended tone. Nevertheless, he accepted the white envelope stuffed with bills that the Rev handed him and wished the couple a happy life together. He punched the button for the recessional music and the group walked out to make way for the next couple.

  Mrs. Abbott helped herself to a handful of complimentary rose petals from a china bowl by the door. She scattered them over Joe and Nell as they stepped out into the glare of a Nevada afternoon. “Rice is for fertility. I wonder what rose petals mean.”

  “Rice attracts birds and all their mess. Rose petals are biodegradable,” Stevie told her.

  “Stevie, dearest, always so romantic.” Connor hugged his pragmatic bride.

  “The rose is the symbol for the Virgin Mary. She is on our side,” Joe said seriously.

  “No foolin’?” That was the Rev talking.

  “Throw the bouquet! Throw the bouquet,” Emily screeched.

  Stevie could have snatched the bunch of miniature white rose buds, stephanotis, and trailing ivy tied up with gold ribbon from the air over Emily’s head, but she had her man and didn’t need to start another fight with Nell’s obnoxious sister. “There’s a nice garden over here. Why don’t I set up my gear and get a few pictures?”

  Stevie got her snaps and signaled to Connor to lug her gear while she followed the bridal pair to the waiting cab, Joe carrying Nell in his arms just because he wanted to. They waved to their guests from the cab window and took off letting the others find their own transportation back to the Bellagio.

  The Rev helped Mrs. Abbott into another taxi. “Joe said I was to treat y’all to a nice dinner. The bride and groom are gettin’ room service.”

  Joe insisted on carrying his bride past the Bellagio’s dancing fountains and down the hall with its fabulous ceiling of glass flowers. With her head resting in the crook of his arm, Nell had a great view, but she began to feel seasick.