by Vickie Fee
Just as Mama started pulling up the number, her phone buzzed.
“Yes. We’re on our way down now with the patient. Thanks,” she said. “We’re good to go, Junior.”
He groused a little as he sat down in the wheelchair.
“Don’t be an old grouch. You’re getting out of the hospital—and you’ll get to see Little Junior in just a little while,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
“It just occurred to me, five of us plus the driver might be a little crowded for one cab,” Mama said.
“We should’ve told our driver to wait,” Larry Joe said. “Y’all go on back to the hotel. We’ll call a taxi. We still need to go by the police precinct. Liv has to give a formal statement and turn in that Kevlar vest she’s got on under her shirt.”
“Wait a minute—why did Liv need a bulletproof vest?” Uncle Junior said.
“I’d like to hear the answer to that one myself,” Mama said, looking displeased.
“It was purely a precaution,” I said. “I told you the cops were right outside the door, listening the whole time.”
We walked down with Mama, Earl, and Uncle Junior, who was being pushed in a wheelchair. We said our good-byes at the curb.
Dave called for a taxi and we waited about ten minutes for it to arrive before heading over to the police station. I turned in my bulletproof vest, hoping I’d never have need for one again, and filled out a statement.
“Why don’t we call Crystal to pick us up? I’m sure she’d like to be here when they let Little Junior out,” I said.
“That’s not a bad idea, except Little Junior isn’t here at the precinct. He’s at the jail.”
“Is that very far?” Larry Joe asked.
“No. It’s not too far from the Neon Museum,” Dave replied.
“Oh, I remember driving by that,” I said.
We asked Bains if Jana was being cooperative.
“No. She’s keeping her mouth shut. Waiting for her attorney,” he said. “But she won’t be getting out on bail.”
Dave took Bains off to the side for a brief word before we left. I had my suspicions he was asking Bains to keep an eye on Jimmy Souther.
The three of us piled into yet another taxi. The driver dropped Larry Joe and me at the hotel and continued on to the Clark County Detention Center with Dave in the backseat. I phoned Crystal and she said she was meeting Dave at the jail. She would be behind the wheel when Little Junior got sprung. The hope was that the three of them would meet us back at the hotel, if not in time for dinner, then at least for dessert.
When we arrived, I called Mama to let her know Larry Joe and I were back at the hotel, but we didn’t have an estimated time of arrival yet for Little Junior. Dave said he would call when they were in transit.
“All of your elders are in their hotel rooms, hon. Junior wanted to take a quick shower. Said he had gooey spots from where they stuck those electrodes to him for the heart monitor. I wanted to put my feet up for a bit, since I know you worry about my swollen ankles. But we should be ready to head down in thirty minutes, if that sounds good to you.”
“That’s fine. Head down to where? Have y’all decided where to have dinner?”
“At the buffet. It’s not fancy, but we can push tables together to seat our group. And since we won’t all be arriving at the same time, we don’t have to worry about placing orders. We’ll meet y’all in the lobby.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. We’ll see you shortly,” I said.
“What are we doing?” Larry Joe asked, after I got off the phone with command central.
“We’re going to the buffet in thirty minutes. Just enough time for us to go upstairs and freshen up.”
Sponging off before I put on fresh clothes, I noticed I had some “gooey spots” as Uncle Junior had called them, where they had taped the hidden recording wires to me. I came out of the bathroom and grabbed a clean blouse from the closet. I slipped it on, but before I could get it buttoned, Larry Joe had come over and pulled me close, wrapping his arms tightly around me.
“I was really scared today, knowing you were alone with a cold-blooded killer, trying to prod a confession out of her.”
“I didn’t have to prod anything out of Jana. She seemed to enjoy bragging to me about what she’d done.”
“You’re very brave, Liv McKay—and I’m proud of you,” Larry Joe said, cupping my face with his hands and looking into my eyes. “But I don’t want you to do anything like that ever again. I’m not brave enough to go through it.”
He kissed me in the way that still makes me go weak in the knees, even after being married for a dozen years. When we came up for air, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
“We’re going to be late for supper if we don’t get moving,” I said, giving him one more quick kiss for good measure.
The rest of our party was waiting when we came into the lobby. Without a word, Daddy Wayne turned and started walking toward the buffet.
“There are some tables along the wall. That might be a little quieter. I’m going to go over to reserve our tables,” Mama said, before barreling across the expansive dining room that surrounded long runs of serving tables on three sides.
I trailed after Mama, who had plopped her purse in the middle of one table and sat down between two others, with a hand on each, signaling that these were taken. One of the tables had not been bussed yet, so Mama waved over a waitress.
“Hon, could you have someone clear this table as soon as you get a chance. We have a big group. And we’re celebrating. My brother just got out of the hospital,” Mama said with a big smile, turning on the charm. She didn’t mention we also had a relative who was just getting out of jail. But that was a little harder to explain. The waitress returned in just a few moments with a gray plastic tub. She cleared and wiped down the table, then said she’d be back in a minute to take our drink orders.
“Hon, just make it iced teas all around. We have . . . Liv, how many people do we have?”
“We have nine here and three more joining us later.”
The men had headed straight to the buffet lines. Earl came over first, carrying two plates, one with salad and one with rolls and butter pats.
“Virginia, I brought you some rolls in case you wanted something to nibble on before you go through the buffet.”
Uncle Junior was walking just behind Earl with a sensible-looking salad on his plate.
Miss Betty and Di had sparse helpings of this and that, while Larry Joe had a plate with man-sized portions. Finally, Daddy Wayne came over to the tables carrying two plates piled high with everything fried they had on the buffet.
“Wayne McKay,” Miss Betty said in a scolding tone.
“I had a light lunch,” he shot back, not that anyone at the table believed him.
Mama started bragging about how I’d worn a wire to catch a killer, only in her version it sounded like I was wearing a cape, too. This gave me a little preview of the way I was sure she’d tell the story to her friends back in Dixie, not that any of them would believe her.
Everyone asked Uncle Junior how he was feeling and what the doctors had to say. No heart attack, he had angina—and on the first night maybe a touch of heartburn, as well. He said he’d be avoiding Italian food for a while, just in case. He finished off his salad and started to get up for another trip to the food bar, but Mama prevented him.
“Junior, you stay put. I’ll go through the buffet and bring you back a healthy plate.”
He didn’t seem to like it much, but he didn’t put up a fuss—until she returned with two plates, one plenteous and one meager, and handed the meager plate to him.
“Virginia, I’m supposed to be on a healthy diet, not a starvation diet,” he protested.
“You should just be thankful you’re not eating that hospital food. So, hush. If you behave you can have a small dessert,” she said.
Dave called to let us know that he and Crystal and Little Junior were en route. There was an eruption
of excitement when Larry Joe shared the news. I saw a tear fall from Uncle Junior’s eye onto his small serving of steamed broccoli—no butter.
I had an idea, so I went to the dessert line and talked to the server. I told her we were having a little welcome home party for my cousin, who’d been . . . away. I returned to the table with a large slice of chocolate layer cake with a candle in it. I arranged for the waitress to come over and light the candle in a few minutes.
When we spotted Little Junior coming through the door with Crystal beside him and Dave right behind, we sprang to our feet with cheers and applause. Even Daddy Wayne took his head out of the feeding trough, briefly.
Earl rushed over, waving them in and telling the cashier he’d take care of their checks.
Little Junior stepped into a crush of hugs.
“Thanks. I have the best family in the whole world,” Little Junior said, choking up a little. “And, Liv, Crystal and Dave told me what you did for me. I’ll never be able to thank you.”
After Mama finally released him from a smothering embrace, I stepped over and gave him a hug.
“No thanks necessary. We’re family.”
Chapter Sixteen
After everyone had enjoyed their fill, including cake, we started to break up the party. Di was the first to slip out, and I wondered if she was going to meet Jimmy. The look on Dave’s face led me to believe he had the same thought. Crystal and Little Junior said their good nights. And Uncle Junior excused himself. He looked tired, but content.
Earl had escorted my uncle upstairs to make sure he was okay, and Larry Joe was walking just ahead of me with his parents. I was walking arm in arm with Mama, who was looking more relaxed than I’d seen her in days. I decided to broach the subject of the wedding.
“Mama, now that Little Junior is out of jail—and the real killer is behind bars—do you want me to call the Burning Love Wedding Chapel and see when we can schedule the wedding?”
“No, hon. That place holds bad memories for me.”
“Of course. I can call around to the other chapels.”
“I don’t know that I want to get married in any Las Vegas chapel now.”
Mama sighed and I had a sudden feeling of dread that she was going to say she wanted to go back to Dixie and the outrageous wedding plans Holly and I had begun work on before she opted for Vegas. Then I had a flash of genius, which was rare.
“Mama, what if we have an outdoor wedding like you originally wanted. Except, instead of beside Earl’s pond, we have it beside Lake Mead. And we ask Little Junior to officiate.”
Big tears started rolling down Mama’s cheeks. She hugged me and smooshed my head against her bosom.
“Liv, that sounds perfect. What do we need to do?”
“You and Earl just start packing provisions into the Winnebago. I’ll take care of arranging the wedding. Let’s shoot for tomorrow evening.”
I rallied the troops, calling or texting everyone in our group, including Little Junior and Crystal, and asked them to meet at the food court in thirty minutes. I hurried to my room and started making some phone calls to check on prices and availability. Then I pulled hotel stationery out of the drawer and started making my lists and timeline.
Everyone, except Di, showed up for muster, and I outlined the battle plan, starting with the officiant.
“Little Junior, Mama and Earl—well, all of us would love for you to perform the wedding ceremony. Are you free tomorrow evening?”
My cousin lit up like a Christmas tree on the town square, and said, “If I wasn’t, I am now.”
Everyone volunteered or was conscripted into duty. Actually, only my father-in-law had to be nudged. The rest of the gang was enthusiastic about making our rescheduled, hurried wedding plans special for Mama and Earl.
After the strategy meeting, Little Junior left to make other arrangements, while Crystal drove me to a bakery she said made the best-tasting cakes and cupcakes in town—and could do express orders. This being Vegas, they were open until midnight.
Di called as we were leaving the bakery. I told her the wedding was on, and she said she’d help out tomorrow with anything we needed.
Saturday morning I hit the ground running. Miss Betty was taking Mama shopping for a lightweight sundress and matching sandals. Her original dress was fine inside an air-conditioned chapel, but too heavy for outdoors. I sent Larry Joe and his dad shopping with a list I knew I could trust them with. Dave was running errands with Little Junior. And Di was on a shopping expedition with me for a variety of miscellany, both useful and decorative.
Mama phoned me and I texted that I was in a store and it was too noisy to talk. So she texted me. Fifteen times. I couldn’t afford not to take Holly’s calls with a huge event happening tonight in Dixie. But I didn’t have time to talk to Mama because I was too busy getting things ready for a big event tonight in Vegas—her wedding.
After our shopping trip, Di and I stopped by Crystal’s mother’s house to pick up Crystal, then rendezvoused with Larry Joe and his dad at the wedding reception venue to get everything set up. Crystal stayed behind and waited for reinforcements while the rest of us went back to the hotel.
Evening was fast approaching. We went to our respective hotel rooms to get cleaned up and make ourselves presentable.
At five o’clock, I called or texted everybody with a reminder to make sure we were ready for showtime. We all gathered in the hotel lobby. Promptly at 6:00 p.m. Little Junior, decked out in a blue rhinestone-studded jumpsuit, pulled up to the front door. This time, instead of a standard pink Cadillac, he was driving a pink Caddy stretch limousine. All nine of us piled in comfortably. Dave sat up front with Little Junior, while Di sat in back with us.
This ride wasn’t a convertible, like the one we rode in when Mama and Earl almost got married. It was only a few minutes’ drive to the chapel, but it would take about an hour to get to Lake Mead. The sun was slung low in the sky and I passed out Elvis-style aviator sunglasses to shield our eyes. Larry Joe, still self-conscious about his black eye, was the only one who left his shades on during the ceremony.
We left the Strip and headed into the desert, driving through wide swaths of sand and scrub between occasional buildings. After seeing nothing but desert, suddenly on the horizon an oasis of blue water known as Lake Mead, one of the largest man-made lakes in the world, came into view. Little Junior drove by the lake and up a winding incline. He turned off on a sand road and stopped. We got out of the car and walked toward a smiling man holding a camera and another man holding a guitar. Behind them was a white arched arbor with lit tiki torches on either side. I grabbed Mama’s simple bouquet of white roses from the front seat and handed them to her as we approached the overlook. As we took our places around the arbor, an amazing view of Lake Mead opened up to us. Little Junior’s friend, who worked as a photographer at another Vegas wedding chapel, began snapping pictures, and the other man began playing chords on his guitar.
Little Junior sang “Love Me Tender” as Mama and Earl held hands in front of the arch. He dispensed with the kitschy remarks like “Do you, Earl, promise to be Virginia’s hunka, hunka burning love from now on?” Instead he performed a sweet and personal ceremony, with tears in his eyes as he pronounced them husband and wife. There wasn’t a dry eye. Even my chronically grumpy father-in-law was sniffling.
Just after he told Earl, “You may kiss your bride,” Little Junior began singing “And I Love You So.” It was nearly seven-thirty, and as if on cue, the sun in shades of orange and purple began to sink into the lake. Earl took Mama’s hand and they began to dance, gently swaying to the music. After the newlyweds had danced for a moment, Larry Joe wrapped his right arm around my waist, I clasped his left hand, and we started dancing, and so did my in-laws. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dave extend his hand to Di, and happily but somewhat surprisingly, she accepted and they joined the dance. Little Junior nodded to the guitarist and they repeated a verse and chorus.
When he finished the
song, Little Junior waved to the musician, who played the guitar equivalent of a drum roll.
“Dear friends and family, I’d like to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Earl Daniels,” Little Junior said.
Earl gave Mama another quick kiss and we all burst into applause. The guitar player plucked a reprise of “Love Me Tender.” Earl and Mama held hands and began walking toward the car, and the rest of us fell in line behind them.
* * *
It was hot as blue blazes, but tears mingled with sweat as we got to see these two dear people finally say their “I dos.” Moving on to the reception, we drove the three miles or so from the wedding site to the Lake Mead RV Village. Crystal had enlisted the help of our hairdresser pal, Randi, and the two of them were getting things ready for our arrival.
Mama lit up a broad smile and Earl’s ears turned red when we pulled up beside the campsite. The newlyweds’ Winnebago was parked and hooked up to utilities. The awning on the side of the camper was extended, and its underside was lined with twinkling lights, and a JUST MARRIED banner adorned the side of their honeymoon home.
Randi was cooking burgers and brats on a grill on the concrete pad beside the camper. A tablecloth, featuring images of Elvis Presley from the movie Blue Hawaii against a blue background of palm trees and orchids, covered a picnic table. A film clapboard with “Wedding: Take Two” written in chalk was propped beside a handsome framed photo of Mama and Earl I had snapped of them wearing their Sunday best after church one Sunday back in Dixie. It was way too hot for them to wear a suit and long-sleeved dress for the outdoor wedding. August wasn’t an ideal month, temperature-wise, for an outdoor wedding in either Dixie or Las Vegas. But since Mama had originally opted for an outdoor wedding, I decided we’d go for it. We did our best to beat the heat with cold drinks and two box fans we had set up under the awning to at least stir a breeze.
The wedding dinner was rustic, but appropriate to a campsite. To accompany the burgers, the picnic table had platters of fixings and condiments, plus a big bowl of potato salad that Crystal’s mom had made, and pitchers of iced tea and sangria. The center of the table featured a tray of cupcakes spelling out “Love Me Tender,” with cupcakes decorated in hearts and musical notes circling the title. And, Crystal was right, the red velvet cupcakes tasted as good as they looked.
