by Lee Winter
There were more shouts and applause, the bagpiper’s wail starting up in a ridiculous song choice, the dogs howling again, plus a few more amusing insults hurled between Cynthia and Suze.
“Lauren?” Catherine bent to her ear. “Why is there a bagpiper? And why’s he playing the Star Wars Imperial March?”
Chapter 27 –
Friends and Frenemies
Catherine’s gaze roamed the reception. She was unsure whether it was “going off like a cat-four tornado party”, as Lauren had predicted, having no frame of reference for celebrating a potentially deadly weather event. But the gathered throngs were laughing and chatting, drinking and sounding generally happy.
Now dressed in a more comfortable outfit of black pants and a starched, cream-colored linen shirt, Catherine stood at the bar, waiting for the attendant to pour drinks for her and Lauren. Her new wife was somewhere, doing the rounds of family and friends. And she had a lot of them. She’d be awhile.
Tommy’s wallflower girlfriend had turned out to be a surprisingly adept DJ, Catherine thought as she gazed around the gathering.
Suze, looking contrite, suddenly dashed over.
“Panpipes,” she’d whispered, grasping her arm, an imploring look on her face. “It was meant to be panpipes. They gave me the job to book the music, and I tried this online musician booking service. I put in the wrong musician code, and I was in a hurry and didn’t read the email they sent back too closely. Please tell Laur I’m so sorry. I’d tell her myself, but I’m avoiding her right now on account of the fact she definitely wants to murder me. Trust me. I’m dead woman walking.”
Panpipes? That might have been nice. “I understand,” Catherine replied. “But why The Imperial March?”
“Um, that one’s on him.” Suze looked mournful. “God, Hamish said he only knew three American tunes, so I said, ‘Well, just play whatever’s the most appropriate wherever, without doubling up’…and…” She threw her hands up. “Gah. Don’t hate me.”
“It did make the ceremony unique,” Catherine noted, biting back a smile. But truly, Lauren’s best friend was impossible to hate.
“I guess.” Suze rolled her eyes. “By the way, what’s the deal with your catty friend? Has she got something against me or just the whole Midwest?”
“Only the fact it exists.” Catherine smirked. “Why don’t you talk to her? Be sure to mention all the Iowan regional delicacies you can think of. Especially fried things on sticks. She’ll love that a great deal. I sense she is dying to learn more about your state.”
Suze looked her up and down, seeming impressed. “You’re totally evil. So”—she leaned in, —“wanna tell me what else will rile her up?” Her grin was pure mischief.
Oh, Catherine liked her a lot. She added a few of her best pointers, knowing that Cynthia’s idea of fun was being challenged. Her oldest friend could thank her later.
Suze thanked her, waved, and disappeared.
Catherine reached the front of the bar line when Lucas sauntered up.
“Yes?” she asked, not bothering to hide her irritation.
He said nothing for a moment, then sucked in a deep breath. “You offered me something a few days ago. I should have taken it.” He held out his hand.
She took his measure—doubt, embarrassment, and shame seemed to be competing for dominance.
With a sigh, she shook his hand. Life was too short. “Is this an end to it?”
“You won’t be hearing any more crap out of me. When you said your vows, I saw how much you meant them. It was, I don’t know, the most honest thing I’ve ever heard. And I think maybe…I get you now. I made some wrong assumptions. Catherine…um…just… Sorry. Okay?”
Catherine could see his regret. And he had finally said her name right. “Thank you.”
She didn’t forgive him. It was too soon to forgive a man for trying to destroy the most important thing in her life. But maybe one day, if he proved his words weren’t empty.
Lauren looked around in relief. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, eating, grilling, drinking, and dancing around the fire pit. Her voice was sore from greeting so many old relatives she hadn’t seen for a year or more.
“Lauren, sweetie!” Mariella swished into view in a cloud of perfume and a bright, breezy muumuu, waving a bottle of beer.
Beer. She squinted at her in disbelief. Then her eye fell to the label. Her upscale LA publicist friend was swigging from a bottle of Tip the Cow beer. Before this, the most basic drink she’d ever seen Mariella holding was a cocktail with three French names.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, darling.” Mariella air kissed her deftly and then offered a rueful chuckle. “Sorry, dear. Force of habit. Harold complains I forget with him, too.” She planted a proper kiss on Lauren’s cheek and hugged her tight.
“Great to see you, too.” Lauren gave her a hearty squeeze back. “Thanks for flying in on zero notice.”
“As if I’d miss such a momentous occasion.” She smiled and stood back. “Let me look at you. My goodness, you seem so happy. And you’re not the only one.” Mariella winked. “Well, aside from Catherine. It’s Harold. I swear he’s having the most fun he’s had in years. I’ve dragged him to thousands of weddings and parties over the years. This is the first time he actually looks like he’s enjoying himself.”
Lauren’s gaze swung over to Mariella’s portly, balding husband in the grill line, debating hot sauces with her brothers as he waved about his tongs. “Great.” She looked back at her friend. “So you guys don’t mind having to cook your own meal?”
“Mind? Harold couldn’t wait. Now he keeps telling me all weddings should be like this. So, where is your lovely bride?”
“She’s getting us drinks and being sociable.”
“The Caustic Queen sociable? How things change.” Mariella chuckled. “You’re a civilizing influence on her.”
“Actually, I think it’s Iowa that’s getting to her. I’ll have her checking out the American Gothic Barn in no time. Yes, that is exactly how it sounds.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“Pay to see what?” Catherine asked, arriving with a wine glass and a beer. She handed the latter to Lauren. “Hello, Mariella, good to see you again.”
“You, taking in Iowa’s earthier sights,” Mariella replied. “We’re debating whether Lauren’s home state is mellowing you.”
“I’m an extremely mellow person,” Catherine deadpanned. “I have no idea where people get any other idea.”
Lauren laughed.
“In truth, it’s hard to muster much energy for evisceration out here,” Catherine continued. She took a sip of her wine. “In fact, I suspect the air is doing funny things to a lot of people. For instance, I just saw Suze challenge Cynthia to beer pong.”
“What?” Lauren peered at her. Then she spun around trying to spot her friend. “I’ve been trying to talk to Suze all evening. I swear she’s ducking me.”
Catherine tilted an eyebrow. “Not surprising. She was put in charge of getting some music for the ceremony. She wanted panpipes, but there was a slight booking mishap.”
“Ah.” Well, that almost made sense. “So did Cynthia shred her on the spot for daring to suggest an economics expert turned TV executive would be into some frat party game?”
“No.” Catherine looked amused. “Cynthia, competitive woman that she is, immediately accepted. And she is crushing the competition. Although, given how excellent we know Suze’s hand-eye coordination is, I suspect she’s tanking on purpose. See for yourself.” She angled her head in the direction of the ping-pong-ball carnage.
Lauren blinked at the scene of the forbidding, angular Cynthia Redwell tossing plastic balls into cups at the end of a table with pinpoint accuracy, celebrating each direct hit with a cackle of delight. “Okay, I’m in the Twilight Zone.” She waved her hand helplessly at th
e scene. “’Cause that’s ridiculous.”
“I agree,” Mariella mused. “Flirting is not how I remember it.”
“What makes you think they’re flirting?” Catherine asked. “Cynthia could be just being friendly.”
Lauren coughed into her beer.
“Ex-actly.” Mariella eyed Catherine. “Plus, I do have decades of experience as an LA publicist trained to hide this sort of thing. Cynthia’s not as discreet as she thinks she is. Not the way you were, Catherine. Oh, and some people can’t hide it at all, let me tell you. Like that brother of yours, Lauren. He’s such a sweetheart, but he really isn’t fooling anyone.”
“Wait, what?” She looked around frantically.
“You didn’t know?” Mariella blinked. “Oh, well. I do apologize. When I was chatting with Mrs. Haverson earlier, she seemed more than aware.”
“Meemaw knows?” Lauren squeaked.
“And your father. Delightful man, by the way. So charming.”
“Dad knows? Wait! Which brother?”
“Oh no. I’ll let him talk to you in his own time.” She tapped her nose. “Publicist’s code. No outing out of turn. No telling people who don’t know already. And on that note, they’re playing our song. I think I’ll whip Harold out for a nice dance around the fire pit.”
She put down her drink and went off to find her husband.
“Um, did you know I apparently have a gay brother?” Lauren demanded.
Before Catherine could answer, Lauren’s father appeared, looking handsome in his black suit, hair slicked back. He smiled warmly at Catherine. “Hello. If it isn’t my new daughter-in-law.”
She smiled back.
Owen turned and pecked Lauren’s cheek, giving her a fond look. “So, sweetheart, are you both having a good time?”
“The best.” Lauren grinned. “Despite the bagpipes stuck in my head.”
“And you?” Owen asked Catherine.
“It’s the nicest wedding I’ve ever attended,” Catherine said. “So I’m particularly glad it’s my own.”
Owen chuckled. “Good, that’s good.” He reached into his pocket. “I thought long and hard about what to get you two as a wedding present. And then it came to me.” He opened his hand and a key ring with a car key sat on his palm. “I know Lauren loves her Beast to bits. And, see, Kitten is like that car’s sister. So, Catherine, it seems only fair you get her; you’ll have Hers and Hers 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS’s in your garage. And I figured, what with your nickname and all, it feels like fate.” He beamed proudly.
Catherine didn’t speak. A smile seemed to squeeze itself onto her frozen lips.
“Oh, uh, you’re not sure which one it is?” Owen guessed at her silence. “It’s the blue car you drove to Rube’s in that time. Sure, the, suspension’s still a little rough, but I’ve fixed it near perfect now.”
Catherine’s expression became strangely fixed.
Lauren couldn’t believe how huge this was. “We’re getting Kitten? Dad, that’s awesome. Love it!” She flung her arms around him and squeezed, breathing in the familiar smell of him, wishing she could take him home with her along with the classic car. She finally stepped back.
Owen dropped the keys into Catherine’s left hand and closed her fingers around them. “I’ll have one of the boys get her sent over your way by the end of the month. I know you’ll take good care of her. I worked on her for about a year. Be sorry to see her go, but I’m glad she’s staying in the family.”
Catherine’s smile softened. “Thank you. I’ll think of all the effort you put into it every time I look at it.”
His face reddened, and he looked pleased. “Well now.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I also just want to say, it’s been so good you both chose to have the shindig right here. It really warmed me that you went and did that.” Owen suddenly took Catherine’s hand and shook it. “I also wanted to say, welcome to the family. And thanks for putting that look on Lauren’s face.”
“I have a look?” Lauren asked.
“Oh, you sure do, sweetheart.” He nodded vigorously.
“My pleasure.” Catherine smiled.
“Well, I’ll leave you two youngsters to it,” Owen said, dropping her hand. “Enjoy the rest of the party.” He ambled off.
Lauren shot her wife a knowing look. “You know, you won’t actually be able to make tank jokes about the Beast anymore if you’re driving Kitten.”
“Oh, I won’t be driving Kitten.”
“Wanna bet? She grows on you. A bit like me.” Lauren offered her cheekiest grin. “And you know how well we worked out.”
“You know, I think Mariella is right,” Catherine said with a smile. “A dance is an excellent idea. I’ve seen what’s on the playlist, and the songs won’t stay this good. That catfish man hollering about his big black pickup truck is coming up. So, darling wife, may I have the pleasure?”
Lauren melted into the warmth of Catherine’s arms sliding around her. They swayed in the dancing shadows from the fire pit, the lights of the willow tree twinkling behind them, the swell of music enfolding them. Half a dozen more couples joined in, and beyond their flowing forms were happy voices, roars of laughter, clinks of bottles, and a feeling of abundant good will.
“You were right,” Catherine murmured. “The tiki bar is an excellent area for a party.”
“I know, right?”
“And don’t look now, but your gay brother’s trying to secretly take his love for a spin.”
Lauren almost gave herself whiplash trying to see who it was. And there was Tommy, in the darkest shadows, under the edge of the willow tree where he presumably thought he was out of sight, arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s brother, Nick. Or not-girlfriend, she corrected herself, given the way Candice was smiling at them both from behind her mixer deck.
“Oh. Wow.”
“So now you’re not the only one,” Catherine said quietly.
“You know, I had my money on John. But good for Tommy. It doesn’t matter anyway. Not in my family.”
“Our family,” Catherine whispered. Her eyes were dark and soft.
Lauren’s throat tightened. “Oh,” she said, overcome with emotions. She kissed her gently on the cheek. “Yeah. Like ’em or not, they’re both of ours now.”
The music shifted. And suddenly there were masculine whoops of delight. The crowd gleefully took up the tune. Voices raised to the heavens, bottles clinked, and feet stomped, as they shared lyrics about jacked-up trucks, rows of corn, and catfish dinners.
“Oh yes.” Catherine’s voice was dry as gin. The affection in her eyes undid her tone. “All ours.”
Chapter 28 –
Pillow Talk
Lauren took in their bed-and-breakfast and sighed happily. Their room was perfect. Huge, beautiful, and above all else, quiet. She dropped their bags by the bed and led Catherine on a tour.
“Mrs. Potts wasn’t kidding about the shower,” Lauren said as she stuck her head in the bathroom. “I’ve never seen one bigger.”
“Well, you did specifically ask her for a ‘sweet place with a huge shower.’”
“True. She must have thought I thoroughly valued cleanliness.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain that’s not what she thought.”
Lauren laughed. “Well, either way, I’m a big fan of showers. In fact, the one at your place in LA left me some very…lasting…memories.”
“I know the feeling. On that note, you must be dying to give this one a try. Do you want to go first? I’d like to unpack.”
Lauren understood even though she felt a stir of disappointment. Catherine always liked having things squared away before she could really relax. Some A-type personality thing.
She grabbed her essentials and disappeared into the bathroom. Within five minutes, the room was full of steam, and all her muscles started to sing in
relief.
Scenes flashed through her head of the wedding highlights. It had been a perfect day. The croquembouche cake? Food of the gods. Her dad’s speech had been as affectionate as Josh’s and Mark’s were risqué and hilarious in turn. But it was Mariella’s words, as matron of honor, that Lauren still turned over in her head. She closed her eyes.
“I watched Lauren fall in love before my eyes,” Mariella told the hushed crowd. “More than that, I watched her stride up to the most intimidating reporter that ever was, without a moment’s hesitation or fear. It’s as if she looked into Catherine’s eyes and saw what was always there. What no one else had noticed. And those two have been fighting love, finding love, and everything in between from the day they met. It was life affirming, entertaining, and so beautiful. Witnessing it was like drifting near a fire. Powerful, intense, and heated.”
Lauren’s thoughts then drifted to Catherine. Her gift to Lauren—exposing her heart in front of everyone. She had no words for how much it meant.
There was a small noise and she looked around. The fogged-up shower door opened.
Catherine stood before her, sleek, beautiful…and very naked. “I thought we should re-create our first time,” she said, her voice a purr. “Only with fewer clothes on my part.”
Desire shot through Lauren. Her breath hitched as her gaze swept Catherine’s nude form. She stepped aside to make room. “Yes. Great idea. Best ever.”
Catherine stepped under the shower stream, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back, allowing the rivulets of water to streak across her skin. She carded her fingers through her hair, thoroughly wetting it. Angling her head to one side, Catherine’s fingers then roamed across her neck, and down to her breasts.
Lauren dropped the soap.
A low chuckle sounded. Catherine’s soft, amused gaze locked with Lauren’s. “Focus, King,” she said, her tone promising all sorts of naughty deeds, “Or you might miss something.” She stepped forward and slid her hands to Lauren’s shoulders, before pulling her into her arms.
