by Melissa Good
“Nice feller,” Andrew said, rocking up and down on his heels.
Ceci sighed. “What a wasted opportunity, really.” She started for the door to the chapel. “I had a perfectly good set of Samhain robes I could have worn to this thing.”
Dar followed them in, using the time as they stood in line to be seated to look around the place. She noticed they were noticed, people looking at them from their seats, or behind them in line, and she returned the stares until they all looked elsewhere.
It was overt. Dar’s face twitched as she acknowledged the sense of discomfort. The last time she’d had to interact with Kerry’s family and their friends it was at Kerry’s father’s funeral service, and the circumstances themselves had diverted attention from them.
But here, as invited guests, she could sense an undercurrent of outrage in this conservative community, not willing to accept the acceptance determinedly shown by Cynthia Stuart to them. She had to give Kerry’s mother credit, the senator had stuck to her guns and welcomed them as family with open arms, ignoring the distaste of her social circle and displaying a surprisingly solid backbone when her political and private councilors tried to derail her.
A young page guided them down the aisle to the second pew on the right hand side, where Angie and Kerry’s brother Mike was already ensconced, along with a young lady in purple leather with one half of her head shaved.
“Nice.” Ceci nodded at her in satisfaction. “Hello there,” she greeted Mike.
“Hey.” Mike grinned at them, the ring in his nose catching the light. “Welcome to the dark side.” He indicated his companion. “This is my girlfriend, Tracy,” he said. “Trace, this is my sister-in-law, Dar, and her parents.”
Dar felt her sense of the absurd stir. “When do the juggler and the two headed dog show up?” she asked, as she took her seat next to him. “Kerry was worried her tat would raise eyebrows.”
Mike chuckled and sat down. “Yeah. I figure the rate we’re going, we’ll talk Mom into a leather biker vest pretty soon.”
He leaned back as Tracy put her hand on his knee and leaned toward Dar. “Hey, you’re the computer genius, aren’t you?” she asked. “I saw you in the paper a couple months back.”
“More or less,” Dar admitted. “We did some work on the terrorist recovery.”
The woman nodded. “I’m one of the senior copywriters at the marketing firm we work for.” She indicated Mike. “My brother got sent to New York last month as part of the rebuilding team. He sent pictures back. Puts it in perspective, you know? We’re writing copy to sell Jaegermeister shots and he’s there.”
“It was pretty horrific,” Dar said quietly. “Something I will never forget.”
“Dar and my sister were there too,” Mike said. “I told you what was going on at the house when it was all happening, right?”
“You told me.” Tracey gave him a tolerant look.
The chapel was filling up, and the pew they were in gathered a few more people, older women and men who were, Dar figured, aunts and uncles of some kind. None of them seemed eager to talk, and after about ten minutes, they saw the pastor move to the front and the crowd quieted down.
Brian and his best man, a red haired and freckled specimen Dar didn’t know, moved to the front of the altar and stood there quietly, dressed in sharply creased morning suits and bow ties.
Then an usher came down the aisle escorting a woman, who was seated in the first pew on the other side.
“Brian’s mom,” Mike whispered to Dar. “Freak show in a bowl.”
Dar nodded slightly. The woman was sitting bolt upright, a hat firmly perched on her head.
An organ started to play. It had a mellow, sweet tone and Dar folded her hands in her lap, cocking her head to listen. After a few minutes, her peripheral vision caught motion, and she turned her head to watch the procession coming down the center aisle.
The sorority sisters and three men in morning suits marched down, taking up their place near the altar, then Angie’s young daughter, Sally, came trotting down, carrying a pillow with a small box on it, focusing on keeping the surface even as she ended up almost bumping into Brian’s knees.
Dar glanced around to see if, by freakish chance, Angie’s ex-husband, Richard, was around, but a quick scan didn’t turn him up. Then she forgot about looking further as she spotted Kerry walking quietly up the aisle, eyes forward, ignoring the stares of the crowd.
Dar felt a smile stretch her lips as she watched Kerry make the journey up to the altar, her sculptured, muscular shoulders shifting a little as she walked up and took her place across from Brian, regarding the crowd with a wary expression.
Then her eyes met Dar’s and she smiled, folding her hands in front of her as she waited for Angie to arrive. The bridesmaids next to her were dressed in similar style, but in Dar’s admittedly biased eyes Kerry’s poised confidence easily outshone them and her understated beauty would likely do the same to her sister once the bride was in place.
Kerry glanced back over at her. Whatever she saw in Dar’s expression made her blush slightly and she looked away as Angie came up to the altar, escorted by their mother.
Cynthia gave Brian a little nod, then seated herself in the first pew, her solitary presence lending an unexpected dignity to the moment.
Pastor Durham cleared his throat and stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the party, his face twitching as he faced the bride and groom and put his back to the crowd. As he lifted his hands, a crackling pop sounded, and then all the lights went off.
Ceci sighed. “Somewhere, PT Barnum is laughing.”
KERRY SAT ON one of the dressing room benches, old pews repurposed in the small room. “Shoulda done this last week down by us, Ang,” she said. “You could have had it out on the little island Dar and I had our commitment ceremony on.”
Angie sat on another bench across from Kerry with Brian next to her, and Sally sitting on Brian’s lap. “You think they found enough candles yet?” she asked, looking wryly amused. “I know I should be upset about this, but really it’s sort of funny.”
Her three bridesmaids were occupying the temporary chairs they’d brought in to do makeup from, and one of them was fluffing up the corsages with a mild, bored expression on her face.
“Very,” Brian agreed. “Especially since power’s out all over town. I was listening to the local news on the radio and everyone’s freaking out.”
“Well.” Kerry folded her hands on her knee and wished she could go change into her jeans, mourning the fact they were back in her mother’s house. “At least the house has a fireplace.”
“You volunteering to go chop firewood?” Angie said. “She hasn’t used it in probably ten years.”
Kerry exhaled, glancing up as the door opened and Mike slipped in. “Hey. They ready?”
“The church is ready. The pastor is arguing with Mom.” Mike came in and dropped down onto the bench Kerry was sitting on. “Saying all kinds of crap about how this was a sign God’s pissed off with her.”
“What?” Kerry barked.
“What?” Angie echoed her.
“Jerk.” Mike shook his head. “He was telling her she’s been living an immoral life and we all turned out to be scum buckets because of it.”
Both Angie and Kerry stood up at the same time. “Fuck that,” Kerry enunciated crisply. “Let me go kick him in the ass. I don’t care if he’s a priest.”
“Don’t worry.” Mike waved them back. “Dar and her mom and dad got into it. It was really entertaining there for a minute, but then they went into his office.”
“He’s been on that kick,” one of the bridesmaids said. “You know it, Ang. He was preaching last Sunday that all the bad things happening, like 9/11, are because we’re not living right.”
“Missed it,” Angie said. “My Andy wasn’t feeling well so we stayed home. Now I’m glad. Does he really think God sent terrorists to fly planes into New York because we aren’t being pious enough?”
Kerr
y reseated herself. “Well, who knows,” she muttered. “After all, I’m gay, you’re an adulterer, and he’s got a tattoo on his ass and a pierced nose.” She turned her head and regarded Angie. “Maybe you all should move to Miami.”
Angie started chuckling. The bridesmaids looked a little shocked, and Brian just laughed and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “People are weird.”
“So,” one of the other bridesmaids spoke up. “Kerry.”
“Mm?” Kerry eyed her.
“What’s it like being gay?” the woman asked in a mild tone that had no edge to it.
Kerry pondered that then shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s it like being straight?” she returned the question. “I guess it was hard for me when I figured it out because of how I was raised. But now? It’s just... it’s normal. I don’t feel any different just because Dar’s a woman not a guy. It’s kind of cool, you know? Not having to explain things like my period, or worry about that Mars versus Venus thing.”
Angie chuckled. “You’ve got a point there.”
The other woman nodded. “My brother’s gay,” she said, surprising everyone else in the room apparently. “He just came out to my parents. Really bad scene,” she added. “They flipped. I thought they were going to throw him out, but they didn’t.”
“Scott’s gay?” Angie asked, with a fascinated expression. “Really, Chris?”
Chris nodded. “Yeah. He’s going to college next year, so I guess he figured he’d better get the word out before he came back with a boyfriend.” She stifled a yawn. “God I hope you have coffee at the reception, Ang.”
“Hope they can figure out how to heat it up,” Angie responded. “I can just imagine all that quiche gone cold.”
Kerry felt a sudden shift in perception at the offhand discussion. She’d known Chris and the other two women as friends of Angie’s from years back, but this studied acceptance, honest or not of her relationship, was an unexpected pleasure. She relaxed, extending her legs out and crossing them at the ankles.
The door opened again and one of the ushers poked his head in. “We’re ready to start,” he said. “Could you take your places again, please?”
The wedding party filed out obediently and re-entered the chapel. The altar area was lit up with candles of many sizes and shapes, and though it provided an irregular light, Kerry decided it was actually pretty charming. There was a dim glow from the narrow stained glass windows on the back wall and the illumination lent a beauty and mystery to the altar she hadn’t felt before.
The pastor hadn’t returned yet, but as she watched the guests file back in, she spotted Dar and her folks coming down the far aisle and sliding into place in their pew. Dar’s temper was visibly bristling and as she met Kerry’s eyes, she shook her head a little, sitting down and folding her arms over her chest.
Kerry folded her hands and flexed her fingers as the pastor came back in, his long face twitching in annoyance as he came to face Angie and Brian again.
For a moment, his eyes slipped past them and fell on Kerry, and the stark dislike in them chilled her. She wondered if he was going to start ranting at her, but after that brief pause, he straightened his robe and cleared his throat.
She saw her mother enter, but instead of going to the first pew, she went to the second, and seated herself next to Ceci, leaning close to whisper something to her.
Ceci patted her knee and then, looking pointedly at the priest’s back, raised her hand and extended her middle finger at him, nearly making Dar’s pale blue eyes come out of her head.
Kerry suspected there were lots of things she was going to regret finding out just as soon as the service was over. She spotted reporters now in the back, and she straightened a little as flashbulbs started to pop, and found herself wishing very hard it was just done.
She heard the pastor going through the motions and tried to focus on the service, willing to give respect to Angie’s wish for a new life for herself, and for her kids. She also acknowledged a twinge of sadness that no matter how her own life contrasted to Angie’s, she could never stand in that spot and have a pastor of her own church read those words he was saying to her sister.
No matter her commitment ceremony was held in a far more beautiful space, with lots of her friends around her, and celebrated by an ordained pastor of her faith—it was not a marriage. It didn’t give her and Dar the legal rights this simple ceremony would give them, even held in the clerk of courts office.
Did that matter? Kerry listened to Angie’s quiet “I do.” Did it matter that her own, internal, until death do us part was far more binding in her heart than her sister’s now second set of them was?
Did it matter it had taken months of laboriously drawn legal papers to give her and Dar the basic rights to each other’s person and property that this five minute exchange of words would for Angie and Brian?
“You may kiss the bride.”
And then the words tickled her sense of the absurd, because who in the hell was this old jerk to be giving permission for two people to kiss each other? Kerry regarded the candles, and stifled a smile, as the recessional started playing, and she watched Angie and Brian as they retreated up the aisle toward the doors, with people standing and tossing rice balls in gauze at them.
So it was over. Kerry relaxed a little, as Dar got up and headed her way, evading the milling guests as she dodged past the pastor. “Excuse me,” Dar said, just missing crashing into him as he stepped back without looking.
The man turned and stiffened, recognizing her.
“Problem?” Dar straightened up to her full height, matching his.
He stared at her for a moment. “God has a problem with you. I would just prefer you out of his house,” he said, then turned and retreated toward the small door just to the left of the altar.
Kerry regarded Dar. “Sorry,” she said, with a sigh.
“Nice.” Dar shook her head. “How could God have a problem with me if he gave me you?” She turned to Kerry, putting a hand on her hip. “What a jackass.”
Kerry handed Dar her corsage, ignoring the chatter of conversation as she only just resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her. “I really am sorry, hon. Wish we were home.”
“Peh.” Dar half shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s just what we went through, but it’s hard for me to let morons like that bother me, Ker.” She sniffed the flowers, and leaned a little against Kerry. “He’s just pissed because my mother ripped him a new one.”
Kerry let her hand rest on Dar’s shoulder, glancing past her at the crowd, waiting for it to clear a little so they could escape.
Cameras were still popping, and she figured given their position she was probably going to be at least page two of the daily tomorrow. “So.” She watched Dar nibble on one of the roses, the warm candlelight gilding her skin. “What happened in there? Mike said you were going at it with him.”
“Asshole,” Dar muttered back, aware of the press now moving forward to get a shot of them. “Tried to pull a guilt trip on your mother.”
Kerry sighed.
“Not over you.” Dar gave one of the nearest reporters a smile. “Matter of fact, it didn’t get that far. Started on Angie having an affair and then my mother lit into him.”
“Ah.”
“Said she was an immoral whore.”
Kerry straightened. “Your mother?”
“Yours.” Dar bumped her. “My mother started chanting some sort of pagan curse at him.”
“Fucking asshole,” Kerry said audible enough for the front rows to hear her. “Let me get out of this dress and I’m going to go kickbox him into February.” She got down off the raised platform and headed off, but had to pull up short as two reporters blocked her way.
Dar caught up with her as she stopped. “Hon.”
“Ms. Stuart.” The older of the two reporters said. “Would you mind speaking to us for a moment?”
Cynthia arrived at her elbow. “Kerrison, we’ve sent the staff back to the house to p
repare for the reception, with all the difficulties.” She glanced at the press. “Excuse us please, gentlemen. This is a private social affair.”
Dar was surprised when the press nodded and backed off. “Sorry about that, Senator,” The older one said. “We were just looking for a few minutes with your daughter.”
“Some other time,” Cynthia said, firmly.
They retreated. “I hear the pastor caused some problems,” Kerry said in a quiet tone, as her mother turned back to her.
“He was unkind,” Cynthia admitted. “But we mustn’t dwell on it. This is a happy occasion and I’m determined it will stay that way. Now, shall we go? I’ve been told this power outage is quite extensive. I’m sure someone will want to talk to me about it.” She gestured them forward. “As though I could actually do something.”
“I’m surprised someone hasn’t called me to see if I could do something about it,” Kerry said. “They must have forgotten I’m here.”
Cynthia regarded her. “Could you?” she asked, hesitantly. “Do something?”
“Depends on what the problem is,” Dar said. “If a tanker truck ran into the power station, probably not. If it’s a computer glitch...” She lifted her hands, then let them drop.
“I see,” Cynthia mused. “Well, never mind. You’re a guest here. Let someone else who’s probably being paid a lot of our budget dollars fix it.” She took the lead and the crowd parted as her aides cleared a path. “Excuse us please!”
“Hm.” Kerry tucked her hand inside Dar’s elbow and suffered the resulting flash bulbs. “My mother’s growing on me.” She felt the faint chuckle rippled through Dar’s body. “She’s getting a lot more...uh...”
“Ballsy,” Dar said, glad enough to follow her down the aisle and out of the church, as Ceci and Andrew joined them. “We’re heading out.”
“Good,” Ceci said. “The overbearing stench of orthodoxy is making me want to light a passion fruit firecracker in this place.”
“Lord.” Andrew handed them their coats. “Had me more fun at Navy training.”
