With the exception of the cynical mother/daughter team of Claire and Biz. Perennially too prickly to invite offers, Claire looked perfectly contented picking up empty glasses and dirty plates, just as Biz had done earlier. Horrified to see herself in her mother, Biz shuddered, then vowed her mother’s plight would not be her own. Though she had no one to dance with, Biz swayed on the outskirts with defiant optimism, enjoying the movement of synchronistic feet and watching Charlie play. Later, Gordon’s grandson, DJ Davy-Dave, took over and played an awesome mix of seventies and eighties pop. Charlie sidled up to Biz and asked if she wanted to dance. “C’mon. It’s ‘Got to Get You into My Life.’ You can’t not dance to Earth, Wind, and Fire. It’s the law.”
“Isn’t Tindy showing up soon?” she said without looking in his direction.
“Biz,” he started, then stopped. “I bumped into her, and—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“Right,” he said. “She’s just an old friend. And she’s not coming until later. So dance with me now. Everyone else is out there. Our whole family is—”
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?”
She snapped at Charlie, “You know why. Because we can’t. We’re … not everybody.”
“That’s just it, I think we are.” They watched their family and the true friends they’d amassed, with Susan and Rah at the center of it all, completely at ease and full of joy. Cat and Ned danced over, saying, “Come on, you two, get out here!” but Biz waved them off with a fake smile.
“See? It’s okay now,” Charlie implored.
“Well, I think we should wait.”
“For what?” He faced her. She had no choice but to look at him. “The second coming? The zombie apocalypse?” He said it with a slight laugh, hoping that if he made light of the situation she would relent.
“Yes, the zombie apocalypse. Or when everyone we know is vaporized from space. Or we’re shipwrecked. Or sent to colonize Mars. Though they probably wouldn’t choose us. Plus I would hate the weather. Though if Matt Damon were there…”
“I’m serious, Biz.”
“So am I,” she said, and her throat choked up. Her eyes began to water. Biz turned away from him, refusing to wipe anything away with so many people watching. Damn her hormones. Menopause was turning every conversation she had into a Lifetime movie, and it sucked. “I think we missed our chance,” she said, resigned to giving up.
Charlie continued his plea. “The kids don’t need us anymore. They’re all basically good—no one’s in jail, no unplanned pregnancies. That we know of.” Biz elicited a “Ha” along with one raised eyebrow. Charlie felt a familiar rush; if he could still make her laugh, he had a chance. “In the scheme of things,” he said, “none of it matters anymore.”
Finn careened by with champagne flutes full to the brim. “Elizabeth and Charles! Glad to see you two finally together.” He winked, then hustled by.
“We’re not!” Biz called after him, but he was gone. Through gritted teeth and a fake smile she said, “Please don’t make me have this conversation here. I’m too hormonal and frankly, I’m forty-eight. We’re almost fifty. That ship has sailed. The horse has left the station or the barn after the door or something. I can’t remember anything anymore. This fucking menopause. I’m losing my mind.”
Charlie gently placed his hands on her shoulders and very seriously said, “So am I.” He was through pretending. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her starting tonight. Sooner than tonight—beginning with the next song. He hoped it was something romantic. Biz panicked. She felt hardened and convinced she’d lost her chance at love and was destined to wither away. But now this guy—her damn first cousin—was looking at her with those stupid eyelashes and that damn dimple, still caring for her, interested, and wanting to make her laugh. This, she thought, is everything and terrifying.
Out of the corner of her eye Biz caught a leggy blonde moving toward them. Relieved and annoyed all at once, she said, “Perfect timing.”
“Shit,” Charlie said under his breath as Biz waved Tindy over.
Soon after their greeting Tindy began to explain why she was late. Biz ignored her, nodded, and gave them a shove toward the dance floor. “Later, gators. Get dancing, you crazy kids. No time to waste.”
Charlie and Tindy danced awkwardly to “I Confess,” her long legs stepping out of time to the English Beat’s fast ska. Her toned shoulders glistened under the twinkling fairy lights. Michelle Obama’s arms have ruined it for the rest of us, Biz thought as she watched Charlie and Tindy for as long as she could withstand the torture. Biz’s Irish ankles and frozen shoulder would never be able to compete with Tindy’s arms, even if she … Oh, forget it. It’s never going to happen. So, she watched, complacent in the knowledge that so many members of her family were inching toward whatever happiness they would allow themselves. And that at least Tindy would always be a lousy dancer.
Sissy Bickers walked up with Hugh and Mrs. Hugh trailing. Biz wanted more than ever to commit seppuku. Sissy introduced them, then bubbled with inane pablum about their elopement and how adorable the whole thing was. “Oh, my gosh, wouldn’t it be fun if they bought the house next door?” Sissy gushed, and Biz echoed, “Fun!” with manic game-show glee. But she was gracious with her congratulations and managed not to slug Sissy—even when she leaned in after Hugh and Mrs. Hugh left and whispered, “Missed your chance.” Muriel saw what was brewing from across the yard and swooped in to save her friend. Thankfully there was a diversion: Fuck You Carl. Frail and skittish at best, he was waiting on the sidewalk in front of the house. He had come to pay his respects to the brides. Biz offered Fuck You Carl her arm and led him around back to see Susan and Rah. As he offered a quiet “Fuck you,” locals watched reverently as if a visiting dignitary were on the premises. Folks on the dance floor called out, “Fuck you, Carl!” with a hearty welcoming wave once they recognized him, and a few went over to say hello. The gleam in his eyes told folks that though the script was the same, his words belied a worn-out, softened heart. After a few sips of coffee Biz packed him off with a piece of wedding cake, some leftovers, and as much of a hug as the old man could handle.
“That was sweet of you,” Ruby said to her mother, and nudged her in the shoulder. “I think everyone got a kick out of it. And he looked as happy as I’ve ever seen him. I think he’d even combed his hair.”
“I’m a pushover,” said Biz, but she meant idiot. She was watching Charlie dance with Tindy to “Cheek to Cheek” in great galumphing stomps, arms practically flailing. Even Ruby could see they were mismatched. “Is that woman having a seizure of some kind?”
“Be nice” was all Biz said. She wished desperately she could cut in on them. She wanted to show Ruby how it looked when two people are in total sync and gliding through the air in each other’s arms as if the universe were leading. “I’m a very good dancer,” Biz said, then whipped around to her daughter and gasped, “Oh my God, you’ve never seen me dance, have you?” “No,” said Ruby. Biz almost burst into tears. My own daughter has never seen me truly happy, she thought. I can’t take it. This wedding is killing me.
Rebekah joined the mother-daughter team. “What’s going on? I noticed you look a little off. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Couldn’t be happier for the lucky couple.”
“Be that as it may…”
Biz fought off tears. “People know what torture weddings are for single people, right?”
“No, dear, most of them don’t. They’re only thinking about themselves.”
“Right! I keep forgetting. I need to have that tattooed on my forehead.”
“Or not,” Rebekah said, and put her arm around Biz.
Ruby asked, “Hey, Dr. Rebekah, don’t you think Mom and Uncle-Cousin-Maybe-Daddy would make a nice couple?”
“It’s not up to me,” said Rebekah. Biz shook her head no. She was working incredibly hard not to cry and thought it best not to speak. Then Ruby lit up. �
��Do you know anything about genetic testing?”
“I do,” said Rebekah, “as a matter of fact.”
“Can you do me?” gasped Ruby. Biz gave Rebekah a highly suspect look.
“Sure, I just need a cheek scrape. Open your mouth and say, ‘Ahh.’” Ruby did as she was told, and Rebekah wrapped a clean cocktail napkin around the tip of her finger and scraped the inside of Ruby’s mouth. Then she inspected it closely and held it up as if checking for wind direction. Biz rolled her eyes.
“Yup, he’s your father,” said Rebekah.
Ruby cracked up. “Very scientific.”
Rebekah smiled and said, “What do you care? Do you want him to be your dad?”
Biz snuck a peek at Ruby, who answered, “Heck, yeah! That would be so fun!”
“Okay, then, poof—he’s your dad.”
“You’re amazing. I’m going to go tell Gigi we’re half sisters.”
Ruby took off. Biz looked askance and said, “Really?”
“Remember that day you brought Ruby in? The day of your accident? You handed me a hair follicle. I ran the test, but you never brought it up, so I didn’t, either.”
“And? What did it say?” Biz said.
“What do you want it to say?”
“Cut the shit, Becky.”
Rebekah patted her friend on the back and said, “She’s Charlie’s.”
Biz’s heart exploded. She felt a seismic shift somewhere deep within as if her soul had begun a great waltz and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so did both. Rebekah was whisked away by her husband, but thankfully Muriel noticed Biz, looking schizophrenic. Hooking Biz’s arm in hers she said, “You’re laughing by yourself, and you look insane.”
“I’m fine,” said Biz.
“Like hell you are. And you’re not dancing, even though everyone knows you should be. And even though you and Charlie are relatively smart, you’re both too stupid to admit you want to be together.”
“He’s not too stupid. He told me earlier.”
“And what did you say?”
“That it was too late and I’d never have tits like Tindy’s or arms like Michelle Obama’s.”
“You said that? Then you’re a dipshit. Why don’t you get over yourself? According to my yoga instructor, you’re not supposed to care what other people think.” Muriel waited for a pithy comeback, but Biz only said, “You’re taking yoga?”
Nana Miggs shuffled up on Gordon’s arm and spoke admonishingly. “Look at them. Pathetic. No chemistry.” They knew damn well she was referring to Charlie and Tindy. “You two should be out there. These are your friends. And Rah’s lesbians. We all love you. We want to see you happy.” Biz wanted to be happy so badly—so badly she was afraid to want it. She ached to want it.
Muriel said, “Nana Miggs, you seem mad.”
“I am mad. I’m livid!”
Muriel said, “I agree with your grandmother. This motley crew has made dumb mistakes, too, ya know, and if they haven’t yet, they will. No one is throwing stones in this crowd, except maybe Tindy, but she’s too dumb to understand the metaphor.” They all looked at Tindy dancing totally out of step to “Take on Me”—knees up in the air on the offbeat, Charlie looking pained.
Nana Miggs commanded Biz, “Go dance with Charlie and tell the world I said to buzz off.”
Muriel said, “Yeah, you’ve got tits. Good tits. Show us how it’s done, cowgirl.”
“But I’ve got frozen shoulder and I’m hot-flashing like once an hour. I’m a mess, and she looks like a Rockette.”
Nana Miggs said, “We don’t care and neither does he.”
“But he’s…” Biz broke down and finally began to sob. “He’s my cousin and … and…” How could she tell them the truth about Ruby? How would they take it? What would Larkspur think? How would her mother react?! Biz’s shoulders began to shake.
Nana Miggs said, “I’ve had enough. Muriel, go find my daughter Catherine and tell her to meet me on the patio immediately.” Muriel did as she was told while Nana Miggs and Gordon shepherded Biz over to a quiet couch in the corner of the far patio.
“You rang?” said Cat, then, “Biz, sweetie, what’s wro—”
“Sit,” said Nana Miggs, and her daughter sat next to Biz.
“What’s going—”
Nana Miggs said, “Look at me, young lady.” Cat looked squarely at her mother. “When you and Dick returned from your year in London, whose baby did you return with?”
Cat was thrown. So far, in her long life, she didn’t have a good answer to that question because no one had ever posed it. “Uh, um,” she stuttered, “what a crazy thing to—”
“It’s not crazy and you know it. Was it Dick’s mistress’s? His mother’s?” Now Biz was thrown. “What?!” she said. “Are you talking about Charlie’s Grandmother Agnes?”
“Who were you protecting, young lady?” Nana Miggs continued fiercely. “Answer me, Cat. Your son’s very happiness depends on it.”
Cat knew her mother was right. Times had changed, and there was no longer a legitimate reason to protect anyone from the truth. This was 2014! Dick, Claire, hell, the entire town would have to deal with it. Her son deserved happiness and was only going to find it with Biz.
Cat sighed. “He was Peggy’s.”
Nana Miggs said, “I assumed as much. That baby was too big for his age.”
Biz said, “Who’s Peggy?” She’d stopped crying, but her head was pounding.
Cat was shocked. “Mom, you knew and didn’t say anything?”
“It was only a hunch. What was I going to say? You’d made a grown-up decision and a very brave choice, and I didn’t want to put you in a position of having to lie to me. If I was wrong, then it was moot. Either way, Dunny and I were thrilled you finally had a baby of your own. And at the end of the day it didn’t matter to us where our Choo came from.”
Cat went on, “Except to Dick. Agnes didn’t account for her son’s hardened heart.”
Nana Miggs asked sharply, “Did she threaten you two?”
“Not exactly. But she pulled strings at the bank to get us sent over there when she found out about Peggy. I think she might have been someone powerful’s mistress. Dick was promoted and given a raise, which meant everything to him, and I didn’t mind not having to go through the whole adoption rigmarole. Plus she set up a trust for him. It’s where the theater money came from. It’s his money.”
“Who’s Peggy!?” demanded Biz, feeling invisible.
Nana Miggs said, “Cat, tell her.”
Cat pivoted to Biz. “Charlie’s father, Dick, had a sister, Peggy. She lived in London and became unwittingly pregnant at the same time Dick and I were trying to conceive. She was unmarried, and her reputation would have suffered irreparable damage. So the baby was offered to us—”
“Thrust upon you,” interrupted Nana Miggs.
“But I didn’t feel that way. He felt like mine from the moment I laid eyes on him. I bonded with him immediately. His father, however…”
Nana Miggs was irate. “Dick was a prick, and you were lucky to be rid of him. I’m not surprised he didn’t have the generosity of heart to raise another man’s child as his own.”
Biz was still confused. “But why didn’t you tell Charlie?”
Cat said, “We didn’t want him to feel unwanted. Or to be treated like a bastard child by anyone else, or especially himself. That was a real thing in my day, and we didn’t want it to affect his self-worth. We were naïve. We thought we were doing the right thing.”
Biz asked, “But wasn’t it worse that people thought we were related?”
Cat said, “I always thought you two would find other people, so I was willing to wait and see. He found Piper, so I never had to tell him. But now I realize you were the one all along. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“So that means…”
Nana Miggs said, “It means it doesn’t matter what we think and it never did.”
Cat added, “It means you and Charlie are
not first cousins. You’re not even blood relatives. Now go tell Charlie and tomorrow I’ll tell your mother.”
* * *
Muriel told the DJ what to play while Biz excitedly cut in on Tindy, explaining she would need to borrow Charlie for an unplanned, two-person nuptial flash mob. Tindy was gracious and Charlie perplexed, but not half as surprised as the hot, perspiring crowd when the funk juggernaut “Brick House” switched gears mid-song. Some let out an “Aww” of disappointment, but at the familiar opening bass line the Thornden clan let out a huge whoop. Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” was about to blast off. They hoped the infectious beat meant Charlie and Biz would be doing one of their terribly choreographed routines from childhood. Foster had heard tell of the lore. And when Charlie and Biz moved to the center of the dance floor and froze in a tableau like Olympic ice skaters, E.J., Georgia, Foster, and Cat knew their dreams had come true. Rah signaled Susan to come watch, Gordon moved Nana Miggs closer, and Claire good-naturedly resigned any opposition and sat.
Twisted Family Values Page 30
