by Dara Girard
“Just a hunch.”
“We can’t take her to the wedding.” She rested her hip against the door and narrowed her eyes. “Although if you wore a black eye patch you would make a convincing pirate.”
He ignored her and grabbed something hidden from view.
“You bought a cage,” she said as he walked in and shut the door.
“I’m leaving her here until we get back.”
“You’re just a big softy. Oh, look, you bought toys and everything.”
Clay set the cage on the table. “Don’t you need to finish getting ready?”
“I am ready. I’ve been waiting for you.”
He glanced at her feet. “You plan to go barefoot?”
Jackie looked down, chagrined. She’d been so upset and busy pacing she’d forgotten that tiny detail. “Oh, right.” She went to the bedroom and slipped on her shoes. When she came back she found Clay sitting at the table. The bird still sat on his shoulder.
He said, “Go on then, into the cage.”
The bird bobbed left to right, but stayed in place. “You’re planning to make my life more difficult. Wouldn’t be unusual for a female.”
Jackie placed a hand on her hip. “Is that right?”
“Excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”
“Between you and your bird?”
He laughed. “Me and my bird. Good one.”
“What?”
“You know bird means woman, yeah? Guy’s got a bird?” He saw her confused expression and shook his head. “Never mind.”
“British humor.”
“I’ve been out of England going on over twenty years.”
“You’re still British.”
“Only to you. When I’m there I’m definitely a Yank.”
She sat beside him. “I know what you mean. I couldn’t go to Jamaica and fit in although I was born there.”
“A couple of displaced persons.”
Jackie smiled. Usually the thought made her feel odd, different. But Clay’s acceptance of it made her feel okay. “Yes.” She looked at the bird. “So are you going to convince her to go in or not?”
“She needs a little gentle persuasion.” He picked up the bird and stroked its head, then put his hand in the cage. The bird jumped down and waddled about. Clay nodded, pleased. “Good girl.” He stood. The bird began to bob up and down, agitated. “I’ll be right back.” He looked around for something to cover the cage and stopped when he saw Jackie. “What are you grinning at?”
She shrugged innocently. “Nothing.”
“Do you have a towel?”
Jackie retrieved a towel and covered the cage. “Let’s go before Harriet misses you.”
“You’re not calling my bird Harriet.”
“What would you prefer?”
“Laura.”
“That’s a silly name for a bird.”
“That’s what I’ll call her until she flies away.”
“How do you know she will?”
“She flew away from her first place, she’ll do so again.”- He pulled something out of his pocket. “I got you this.” He slipped a bracelet on her wrist, his hands brushing against her skin with surprising tenderness. She would have expected such large hands to be clumsy, not gentle. It shouldn’t matter of course, since he was all wrong for her. “It’s not much,” he said, “but it’s part of the image of us being a couple.” He met her eyes, concerned. “You’re shaking.”
He was dreadfully wrong, completely wrong, sinfully wrong, she reminded herself as her eyes drank him in. “I’m ready.”
“I was hoping you’d changed your mind.”
“And waste a perfectly good dress?” She grabbed her purse. “I don’t think so.”
They arrived at the church just in time for the ceremony. Jackie sat next to Clay, trying to ignore the scent of his cologne that made her think of the woodsy fragrance of a forest in autumn. Brief flashes of them lying naked among the leaves filled her mind as she thought of his gentle hands all over her. She pinched herself, forcing her mind to focus. She couldn’t entertain such fantastic thoughts about him. Anyone else but him. She sat stiffly, determined not to touch him. If she didn’t, she’d be okay.
The cathedral echoed with the melodious sound of a pipe organ while blossoming spring flowers scented the air. The late afternoon sun seeped through the stained-glass windows, casting strips of green, yellow, and red light on the wooden pews and well-dressed guests.
An elderly woman in an orange pinwheel hat and eyes full of wonder turned around to them. She asked, “Oh, isn’t it a beautiful church? I’m sure it will be a perfect wedding.”
“It should be,” Jackie said. “They’ve had the practice.” Clay nudged her. The woman smiled as though Jackie had said something fascinating then looked toward the front.
Jackie toyed with the pearls on her wrist.
“They’re not real,” he grumbled.
“I know that.”
Clay shifted in his seat. He’d been fidgeting since they’d sat down; it wasn’t like him and it annoyed her. Every time he moved it enhanced his cologne and his arm brushed against hers. “Can’t you keep still?”
He slanted his eyes and glanced her way, but said nothing.
“You needn’t look so bored.”
“I detest weddings.”
She stared at him, amazed. “Why?”
“They’re all alike. Except for Cassie’s nice, simple wedding, and Eric’s justice of the peace. The rest have no imagination.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The ceremony will last more than an hour. Why? I don’t know, but it will. Someone will sing ‘The Wedding Song’ or ‘Let’s Stay Together,’ the pastor will drone on about ‘Love is kind, love is whatever,’ then a baby will start crying during the exchange of the vows and the mother will ineffectively, but loudly, try to shush it.”
“I’m sure it won’t be like that.”
He glanced at his watch. “If they’d get started they could prove me wrong.”
Soon the procession began. A singer stood and sang “Let’s Stay Together.” Jackie refused to look at Clay. Later the bride, dressed in a beaded gown with satin white gloves, descended down the aisle.. The pastor greeted everyone then began I Corinthians' “Love is.” Jackie bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. She succeeded until a baby began to cry. Clay nudged her. She covered her mouth and laughed harder. Two women turned, offering stem looks.
“She’s overwhelmed,” Clay explained, hoping they would mistake her laughter for tears. Jackie closed her eyes. The two women nodded in understanding; their own handkerchiefs handy for such an occasion. He seized her arm and stood. “Excuse us.” He whisked her outside then let her go, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing at a passing Volkswagen. Jackie rested against the railing. After a moment, they glanced at each other, then burst into laughter.
“I can’t go back inside,” Jackie gasped. “Oh, god, when the guy started singing.”
“How about the pastor?” Clay pretended to hold a Bible and said in a formal tone, “‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.’”
Jackie covered her mouth in mock honor. “Dare you mock these sacred words?”
Clay looked down his nose. “I do not mock, my dear. I merely wish people would choose another damn verse. I believe God himself must roll his eyes, thinking, ‘Not again.’”
“We’re not being kind.”
He nodded. “I rather like it.”
“What can we do now?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
“We have to be back for the send-off.”
“Why? To throw stones?”
She playfully pushed him. “You’re being mean.”
“He is your ex-boyfriend.”
A wicked grin spread on her face. “Perhaps tiny pebbles then.”
Under a canopy of trees cringing against the wind of an uncommonly balmy day, they walked up
the street toward the main road. When they reached the road, they spotted a food cart. Without words they headed toward it.
“What would you like?” asked the vendor, a big man with a bigger smile.
“Mike and Ikes,” they said in unison.
He checked his supply, then said, “Sorry, only have one left.”
Clay turned to her. “So what are you going to get?”
She narrowed her eyes. “There are words for men like you.”
“Come on, little girl. Don’t waste the man’s time.”
For the first time she bristled at the reference. He’d called her little girl before, but this time it vexed her. She wanted him to see her otherwise. She asked for Skittles. Clay paid, then they headed back to the church. Once there, Clay peeked inside and saw that the ceremony was still going. They sat on the top step. Jackie watched shadows drift on the ground and squirrels sprint across the street and under cars. Clay handed her the box of Mike and Ikes. “You can finish it.”
She grasped her chest. “Oh, my goodness. You do have manners.”
Clay grinned. “No, I just want some of your Skittles.”
She sent him a look, then traded candy.
“So if you were to get married, what would your wedding be like?” she asked.
He leaned back on his elbows. “Well, I’d have them play ‘The Wedding Song’ and then—”
She hit him. “Be serious.”
“I don’t know. Something quick. Get the deed done and go on with my life.”
“Me, too.”
He looked at her, surprised. “Really? I thought women liked big affairs. Haven’t you dreamed of this moment your entire life?”
“No. I’d like a small wedding and a big honeymoon.”
He nodded. “Good idea.”
“Yes,” she said dryly. “I have them sometimes.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the church. “Do you regret coming?”
Jackie thought about it as she felt the breeze against her face and watched a robin dart between the trees. A bus rumbled past in the distance as she glanced down at the cold cement step. She was at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding and she didn’t care. She didn’t feel heartbroken or discarded, and she knew why. Jackie looked up at Clay with his shadowy eyes that at times were so serious, yet could hint at fun, then glanced at his mouth and wondered if it was as tender as his hands. “Not at all.”
He patted her on the back, nearly pitching her forward; unfortunately, he didn’t know his own strength. “Good, that saves this day from being a total disaster.”
“Why did you decide to come?”
“I didn’t have a date lined up and thought I might as well go with you.”
“So this is a date?”
He shook his head, popping a Skittle in his mouth. “No, this is two people spending a Saturday doing something ridiculous.”
Jackie looped her arm through his. “And enjoying ourselves.” She smiled.
He felt a warmth move through him. He’d always wanted her to send one of her bewitching smiles his way. But to his surprise something twisted inside him. A feeling he’d never expected. He wanted her. The realization nearly knocked the wind out of him. He could no longer explain his feelings away as a mere curiosity. It was pure lust. He drew away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when he abruptly stood.
“The ceremony should end soon.” To his relief they heard the sudden sound of applause from inside the church. The ceremony was over.
***
Gold and silver ribbons draped the reception hall. Classic beaded place-card frames sat on cream-colored brocade tablecloths among frosted votive candles engraved with the couple’s name. On each table sat a bouquet of “Black Beauty” roses surrounded by pompom moss. It was a joyously festive event that started with toasts, was followed with a scrumptious meal, and ended with dancing. Jackie and Clay remained seated.
Clay picked up an olive with his fingers. Jackie slapped his hand as he popped it in his mouth. “Stop that. Where are your manners?”
“I’m supposed to be crude.”
“Yes, I know, but people are staring.”
Actually, only women were staring. She didn’t blame them. Clay in a tux was a sight to behold. Only he could take a civilized outfit and make it look almost primitive. Female eyes were magnetically drawn to him. Particularly one pair. She’d been doing so most of the evening. Jackie shifted her chair closer to Clay. She saw the woman stand and for a moment wondered when she would stop. She was at least five feet, ten inches of mostly legs and a chest of enviable proportion.
Jackie jumped to her feet. “Let’s dance.”
He lifted his glass. “I wasn’t hired to dance.”
She tugged on his sleeve. “Clay, please.”
He set his glass down and shrugged. “Fine.” He stood and glanced around the room. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” she said, heading toward the dance floor.
“There’s no use dancing if he doesn’t see us. I thought you wanted to make him jealous.”
“Right now I just want to dance.”
He pulled her into a dancer’s embrace.
She drew back, shocked by how quickly her body responded to him. Heat flooded her cheeks.
Clay looked at her, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t hold me so close.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, I just think we should have some distance.”
He looked at her as though she were a little strange.“Why?”
“That’s just the way you’re supposed to dance.”
“How can we look like a couple if we dance like we’re strangers? Just trust me on this.” He pulled her close. She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding. She had to focus on something besides his arm around her waist, his lean physique, and the woodsy scent of his cologne. She glanced around the room and saw Legs. Jackie sent a triumphant look at the woman.
“Her name is Iyana,” he said.
“Who?”
“The woman you’re glaring at. She gave me her number.”
Jackie looked up at him, shocked. “When was that?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She turned away and frowned. “You shouldn’t have accepted.”
“Why not?”
“Because then you look as though you’re being unfaithful to me.”
“Would you like me to kiss you?”
Jackie jerked her head back, surprised. “No!” Yes.
Clay shrugged, resigned—he couldn’t win. “You’re the one who suggested I could meet women.”
“After the reception, not during.” She rolled her eyes. “Some date you are.”
“She learned I was an investigator and wondered if I could help her.”
Jackie frowned, disgusted he could fall for such a ploy. “That’s just a line.”
“I know, but it can be interpreted in two ways. We can flirt while still looking faithful.”
“Looking faithful?”
He nodded. “Yes, her husband’s here.”
“She’s married?”
“Which is of course a turn off. I don’t like married women. Their husbands get in the way. And then if the woman has kids, being introduced as Mommy’s ‘special friend’ gets tiresome.”
Jackie stared at him, skeptical. “You’re making this up.”
“I was wondering when you’d catch on.”
“Your sense of humor is as warped as Cassie’s.”
“I guess Eric is the only Henson with a sense of humor.”
“A birth defect.”
“At least I succeeded with my goal.” He smiled.
She liked that expression. It seemed for a moment to wipe the shadows from his eyes and reveal the man underneath. “Goal?”
“I distracted you.”
He didn’t need to tell a story to distract her, his hands were doing a good job. He held her casually. It was her imagination that made the
m feel as though they were burning through her dress, heating her skin, and that maybe, just maybe, he held her closer than he needed to. She didn’t mind.
He abruptly stopped. “I see him.”
“Who?” she asked absently, lost in a daze.
He gently shook her. “Brian.”
Who cares? “Oh.”
“Come on. It’s time to introduce ourselves.”
“He saw us in the reception line,” she said, not wanting the dance to end.
Clay ignored her and dragged her across the room where Brian stood with friends. Jackie stared at her ex, wondering how she could have dated him for so long. Their relationship would never have progressed. She glanced at Darlene, who spoke to her bridesmaids. She was dainty, cultured, and perfect. Brian’s match. Jackie, on the other hand, wasn’t the type of woman he wanted and never could be. She’d been silly to think it would have become serious. The truth of that stung. Clay nudged her forward.
“Hi, Brian,” she said.
He turned and smiled warily. “Hi, Jackie.” The other men melted away, sensing a possible scene.
“I wanted to wish you joy.”
“Thank you.”
“This is my date, Clay.”
Clay shook his hand, then slipped into a British accent, “Hallo. Quite a palava you have here.” Jackie’s jaw dropped; he ignored her. “But I haven’t been to a wedding in donkey’s years.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Couple months ago went to a christening. It was so boring I thought of gluing me eyes open. Well, best be off and let you two chat a bit. Bye, love.” He quickly kissed her on the forehead. “Look after her for me.” He pushed her forward, then left.
Jackie balled her hands into fists, watching him leave. “I will definitely kill him one day,” she muttered.
“What did you say?” Brian asked.
She turned to him, smoothing her features into a smile. “Oh, nothing.”
“Your date seems like an okay guy. Doesn’t seem your type, though.”
Her eyes shot daggers at the man now surrounded by a crowd of women. “It was short notice and I thought I needed a change.”
“Yes, you deserve that.” He took her arm and led her outside to the patio where a string of lights dotted the darkness like fireflies. “You deserve a lot of things.” His eyes swept her face. “You look beautiful. Especially with the moonlight touching the crystals in your hair clip.”
