Wedding Bell Blues

by Meg Benjamin

  “I need to get home and get my clothes. All the bridesmaids are meeting Docia and getting dressed at the winery.”

  Okay, so there was a reason they couldn’t spend the day in bed. The Wedding. His reason for being in Konigsburg in the first place. Pete sighed, running a hand over his face as he headed for the coffee pot. “Run me through the schedule again.”

  “We all get to the winery by ten in case there are last-minute disasters. Wedding’s at eleven. Then the reception starts at two at the Woodrose.”

  He poured himself a large cup of coffee. “And between the wedding and the reception?”

  “We grab some lunch. Or we go somewhere and collapse in a heap. Our duties will be more or less officially at an end except for the toasts at the reception.”

  Pete raised an eyebrow. “Can I collapse in the same heap you do?”

  Janie’s lips quirked. “We’ll never make it to the reception if we do.”

  “And that’s important?”

  “Yes,” she said decisively, “that’s important. We each have to give a toast to Cal and Docia, and I want to dance with you.” She put her cup into the sink. “I’ve got to go. I need to talk to Mom before I head out to the winery. I have a feeling she’ll have heard about what happened with Otto at Brenner’s by now.”

  His grin curdled. He’d managed to forget about Otto since last night. He hoped the SOB was off nursing his nuts somewhere remote, preferably in a nice dank jail cell. “Okay, how about I give you a ride to the winery?” That should ensure that she had to at least spend some time alone with him today.

  Janie shook her head. “I’m riding with Allie this morning. Maybe you can take me to the reception.”

  Pete sighed. “I think that can be arranged, Ms. Dupree.”

  Janie walked through her front door with what she hoped was a clearly purposeful stride. Maybe if she looked like she had things to do, Mom would leave her alone.

  Vain hope. “Janie, where have you been? People have been calling ever since last evening.”

  Mom was dressed in sweats with her hair in curlers and cotton balls between her toes. Janie sighed—of course she was going to The Wedding. Half of the town would be going to The Wedding.

  “What were people calling about?” Janie tried for an innocent look.

  “Otto, of course,” her mother snapped. “How that man beat him up.”

  Janie stopped cold. “You’ve been talking to Rhonda Ruckelshaus, haven’t you? She always gets everything wrong.”

  Mom narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t beat Otto up?”

  “He had a fight with Otto, but Otto richly deserved everything he got.”

  Her mother opened her mouth and then shut it again. She slapped her hand against the chair next to her. “Sit down.”

  Janie shook her head. “I don’t have time for this now. I need to take a shower before Allie gets here.”

  “Sit down right now, Janie Ann Dupree!” Her mother’s lips were pursed and her eyes flashed fire.

  Janie sighed. There was no way around this, and it was probably better to get it over with than to have it hanging over her head. She flopped into the chair.

  “It’s time—past time—you got a grip on things here.” Her mother raised her chin. “He’s leaving, Janie. In a couple of days he’ll be gone and he won’t ever be back. Otto Friedrich has lived here most of his life and he’ll be here tomorrow and next week and next month. Just like you. You’re making the mistake of your life here.”

  Janie took a deep breath, holding onto her temper with her fingernails. “Okay, Mom, this is what happened—for real. Last night Otto was drunk and obnoxious. He grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I don’t know exactly what he had in mind, but it was nothing good and it involved dragging me off against my will. Erik Toleffson made him leave me alone.”

  Her mother at least looked slightly doubtful. “He was probably drunk because he was upset. Because you were two-timing him with that other Toleffson.”

  “The only way I could be two-timing him would be if we actually had something between us. We didn’t. The only thing driving Otto is hurt pride, believe me.” Janie stood again. “Now I have to go.”

  “Janie, listen to me now…”

  “No, Mom!” Janie’s voice was considerably louder than she’d meant it to be. Mom blinked at her. “You listen to me this time. Otto Friedrich doesn’t want to marry me. He never did. He wants to have sex with me, but I’ve never been interested. Yes, Pete Toleffson is leaving, but so what? He’s a nice guy and I’ve enjoyed all the time I’ve spent with him. That’s it, Mom, end of story. I don’t want to hear anything more about this, ever again. Otto Friedrich is out of my life as of right now.”

  Mom was blinking rapidly. Janie had the awful feeling she had tears in her eyes. “I just don’t want to see you break your heart, sweetheart.”

  “Well trust me, my heart’s not broken.” Dented maybe, but definitely in one piece. “Now I have to get ready to go.”

  “But…what should I say if Otto comes by?” Mom’s brow furrowed.

  “Tell him if he comes by again, I’m getting a restraining order,” Janie snapped and headed for her bedroom.

  Allie was a few minutes early—unfortunately, since Janie was still drying her hair. “Docia just called from the Woodrose. Her battery’s dead. We need to go get her.”

  “Great,” Janie moaned. “The first disaster of the day.”

  “The only disaster of the day,” Allie said firmly. “You should see my cake. It’s going to be the talk of Konigsburg for the next two months.”

  Docia looked calm enough when they got to the Woodrose, but in close-up her eyes were sort of glassy. “Docia,” Janie murmured, “are you okay?”

  Docia swallowed. “Sure. I mean I’m absolutely doing the right thing, so why wouldn’t I be okay, right?”

  “You are absolutely doing the right thing, and this is going to be the most beautiful wedding ever.” Janie restrained herself from finding some wood she could rap her knuckles against. If she kept rapping, she was going to hurt herself.

  She pried the garment bag out of Docia’s fingers and hung it in the back of Allie’s van along with their bridesmaid dresses, then pushed Docia gently toward the back seat. “Do you have everything you need? Underwear? Stockings? Shoes? Garter?”

  “Garter?” Docia gave her a panicked look.

  “You toss your garter to the male guests. Don’t worry, I brought one for you.” Janie opened the door for her.

  “Oh god, oh god.” Docia sank into the seat. “I’m never going to get through this without screwing up.”

  “Sure you will.” Allie started the engine. “You’re already halfway there, and we’ll push you down the aisle if we need to. Trust us.”

  Janie had the feeling it would be a good idea to keep Docia talking. “What’s your old?”

  “Old?” Docia blinked at her. “Oh. Okay, my earrings. They were Granny Brandenburg’s.” She touched the small gold hoops.

  “The new is your dress, right?”

  Docia nodded. “And my shoes, stockings, and underwear. None of which I wear as a rule.” Docia grimaced. “I mean shoes and stockings. Of course, I wear underwear. I like underwear. Oh Lord, I sound like some coked-up starlet.”

  “What kind of shoes?” Allie turned into the drive that led to the winery.

  “Sandals. Gold.” Docia shook her head. “So I probably shouldn’t wear stockings right? But then what do I put the garter on? God, I’m already messing up.”

  “Docia, chill.” Janie put a hand on her arm. “You’re fine. What’s blue?”

  Docia grinned at her. “My panties.”

  “Okay, have you borrowed anything?” Janie raised an eyebrow.

  Docia clapped a hand to her lips. “No!”

  “Then, here.” Janie reached into her tote bag and pulled out a handkerchief. “It belonged to my Great Aunt Lucille, so I want it back.”

  Docia’s lips trembled for a moment, then she gave he
r a watery smile. “Thanks, kid. I’m going to take you in hand when I get back from the honeymoon, you know.”

  “Don’t think about that now,” Janie said crisply. “Here we are.”

  Morgan Barrett stood at the door to her winery’s tasting room. “We’ve closed for the morning, so you can use the tasting room to get dressed without worrying about some tourists from Lubbock wandering through.”

  Janie gave her a grateful grin. “Thanks, Morgan. Could you send Bethany in when she gets here?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Docia seemed to wake up as they walked through the door. A full-length mirror was propped against one wall and the bar had been cleared for a make-up space. Docia unzipped the garment bag and shook out the shimmer of flowered brown voile, smiling. “It really is gorgeous, don’t you think?”

  “It’s lovely.” Janie sighed, trying not to think about how spectacular Docia had looked in Reba’s wedding dress.

  “Best of all,” Docia continued, “I recognize myself when I look in the mirror. It’s not like I’m trying to be Princess Buttercup or something.”

  “Don’t you need a slip with that?” Allie narrowed her eyes. “It looks pretty sheer.”

  “Nope.” Docia pulled the dress around her so that the soft ruffle framed her collarbone. “It’s lined. Besides, no slip means Cal gets glimpses. Glimpses are good. They’ll get him a little stirred up.” She grinned.

  Bethany slipped in the door, carrying her dress on a hanger. “Glimpses are great. Who are you stirring up?”

  “Cal, of course, and he’s already stirred up.” Allie dropped her dress over her head and then turned her back to Janie to be zipped. “You made him stay by himself last night.”

  “So I did.” Docia grinned even more widely.

  “You’re just evil, Docia.” Bethany grinned back, fastening her own dress.

  “What are you going to do for a veil?” Allie frowned.

  Docia snorted. “You know what veils symbolize? Depending on who you read, it’s either the woman’s submission to her husband, which I’m not buying, or the woman’s modesty, which is a nonstarter in my case, or her chastity, about which the less said the better. No veils for me, thank you very much.”

  “You need something in your hair.” Allie pursed her lips. “Maybe we can borrow some grapes.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Docia snapped. “They’re about two weeks from harvest. I’d look like Bacchus.”

  Janie smiled, smoothing the linen of her skirt. “It’s all taken care of. I had these delivered to the winery this morning.” She opened the tasting room refrigerator and took out a cellophane package.

  “Oh god,” Docia groaned, closing her eyes. “That sounds like famous last words.”

  “It’s fine,” Janie soothed. “Just look.”

  Docia touched a fingertip to the circlet of yellow roses. “Oh my, Janie. They’re just lovely.” She threw her arms around Janie’s shoulders, hugging her enthusiastically.

  “Watch it,” Janie wheezed. “This is linen. I’ll get all wrinkly.”

  “Are those for us?” Allie picked up a matching circlet of pink.

  Janie nodded. “Pick the one that matches your dress. Or contrasts. Or something. These were the colors the florist thought would work best.”

  “Dibs on the lavender,” Bethany said quickly. “It’ll look best with my yellow.”

  “I’m in blue, so I probably need the cream.” Allie picked up a circlet a little dubiously.

  “Which leaves me all in pink.” Janie sighed. “I’m going to look cute, aren’t I?”

  Docia grinned. “Adorable. But I don’t think that will slow Pete down.”

  A bubble of silence filled the spaces between them as they all concentrated on placing circlets on their heads and trying not to look at Janie’s face.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

  Allie grinned. “But you’re such fun to mother. Did you hear what happened to Otto after y’all left?”

  Janie grimaced. “Nothing good, I trust.”

  “Depends on your definition of ‘good’.” Allie grinned more widely. “Nando took Otto in to the police station and had a long talk with him. Nando did the talking. Otto did a lot of moaning, according to Nando. Anyway, I don’t think Otto will bother you again. He probably won’t be bothering any women for a while, period. Wonder thinks Erik’s had a lot of experience in dirty fighting.”

  Docia shuddered lightly. “He’s kind of scary, but I’m getting used to him. Cal thinks he might be sincere about cleaning up his act this time.”

  Janie narrowed her eyes at her reflection, trying to position the pink roses so that she looked like a maid of honor rather than a flower girl. “I didn’t know him before, of course. He just seems kind of tired now. I think he’d really like them to forgive him.”

  “Well, he’s here today as Cal’s invited guest. That’s a start, at least.” Docia bit her lip. “Has anybody peeked outside yet?”

  “Nope, it’s early. Janie had her contribution. Now here’s mine.” Bethany opened her tote bag and took out a bottle. “Champagne. First of the day.”

  Docia grimaced. “I think I’m going to get really sick of drinking this stuff before the day is over.”

  “Maybe so, but drink up for now.” Bethany poured them each a glass, then raised hers in Docia’s direction. “Here’s to you, kid, you got one of the good ones.”

  Allie and Janie raised their own glasses in unison, then sipped.

  Docia sniffed loudly. “Oh for god’s sake, I should have used the waterproof mascara, shouldn’t I?”

  Pete made a brief trip to Cal’s clinic to drop off Olive at her new temporary home. She stared up at him silently, almost as frozen as she had been when he’d first met her.

  “It’s okay, Olive,” he whispered, rubbing her behind her ears. “Cal’s a great guy. You’ll be happy with him. You have a nice life, now.”

  The last he saw of her were those large, moist kalamata eyes staring up as he stepped back through the door.

  Not my dog. He had enough problems to deal with already without that one. Except, of course, that he couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes whenever he let his guard down. Those eyes and Janie Dupree.

  Back at the apartment, he studied the clutter in his bedroom and tried to decide what to do about it. He ought to be packing. He was catching a plane early tomorrow with his parents and Lars and Daisy. Back to Des Moines. Back to real life. Back to his empty apartment and his equally empty job.

  He shook his head. Self-pity was obnoxious, and not something he was going to indulge in. Occasions like weddings made you lose your perspective, made you think about stuff that you didn’t normally think about. He did an important job as a county attorney and he did it damned well.

  But you don’t like it much anymore.

  So what? Most people didn’t like their jobs. At least his job was important—at least he made a difference. He absolutely wasn’t going to go moping around after Janie Dupree.

  Janie Dupree. With her dark hair and laughing eyes and lithe body. The most beautiful woman he’d ever had the good luck to entice into his bed. The sweetest woman he’d ever bared his soul to.

  Pete took a breath, pushing down the ache in his chest. Packing could wait.

  He wasn’t sure why all the groomsmen showed up together at his apartment. He hadn’t asked them to. They just sort of arrived on his doorstep a half hour later.

  The first to come was Lars, managing to look crisp even though the temperature was already in the eighties. Pete figured he was practicing some kind of accountant’s juju that he himself didn’t have access to.

  “Where’s Daisy?” Somehow he’d expected Lars to have her tucked permanently under his arm.

  “With Dad and Mom. Janie sent her a wreath.”

  Pete blinked at him, picturing holly and red ribbon. “A wreath? You mean like Christmas.”

  “No, you dope, a wre
ath of flowers. Daisies, actually. Daisy thought it was great. Of course, she tried to eat it, but I’m assuming Mom can keep it out of her mouth and on her head until the wedding’s over.”

  Cal showed up a few minutes later, looking disconsolate. “Docia actually went ahead and stayed with Reba last night. I thought she was kidding.”

  “It was just one night. You’ve got a lot of them ahead.” Pete poured him a cup of coffee.

  Cal gave him a long look. “It was a night together. I’m not giving those up without a fight.”

  Pete felt a twinge somewhere around his heart. Before he could say anything, the downstairs doorbell rang and Wonder arrived, carrying a bag of scones. “From Allie. She figured we all needed to lay down a foundation of carbs before we started in on the champagne.”

  “Oh man!” Cal smiled blissfully. “Allie’s scones. There is a God and He’s happy.”

  Pete leaned back against the counter, sipping. “You do all have your clothes with you, right? I mean you’re not going to be sitting here eating scones and drinking coffee and running down the clock.”

  Cal reached to the chair next to him and held up his garment bag. “Complete ensemble.”

  “I’ve got mine on.” Lars shrugged. “It might get a little wrinkled, but with blazers and khakis, who can tell?”

  “Mine’s in the car.” Wonder finished wolfing down a blackberry scone. “I’ll get it when I’ve finished breakfast. Allie would kill me if I got blackberry stains on my shirt.”

  Horace strolled in from the living room. “You’re concerned about what a woman thinks of you? How are the mighty fallen, Wonder.”

  Wonder sighed. “Allie’s not just a woman. She’s the woman. And no, I do not want to piss her off.”

  All four men stared at him blankly. Wonder raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “Quite a day.” Pete gulped down some coffee, turning to Horace. “How did you get in, by the way?”

  “You left your street door unlocked, also the apartment.” Horace grinned. “Good thing I’m honest. I’m surprised you haven’t been robbed blind.”

  Pete sighed. “Got your wedding outfit?”

  “Such as it is.” Horace shrugged his garment bag onto a chair. “I have to say, this is the most comfortable wedding I’ve ever been in. So when do we get the tuxes back to Siemen?”