King of Hearts

by Stevenson, Jennifer

  Now he could hear clearly, too. The gook in the priest’s collar had got to the magic bit. He said, “If anyone here knoweth a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

  Daddy Fisher was getting married, and for some reason Nadine felt righteous. King Dave threw his arm out, getting ready to yell, and then thought better of it. He held his peace.

  Just then Nadine glanced up and spotted him. She gasped.

  Pastor Fisher jerked Nadine’s arm.

  “Watch that,” King Dave called, forgetting where he was.

  Her eyes locked with his. Her stern expression dissolved. “King Dave!” she breathed.

  The priest stood there with his mouth open.

  “Daughter!” the groom muttered. He shook her arm again.

  “I told you to watch that!” King Dave yelled. No fat, red-faced punk in a tux was going to muscle his girl around.

  Nadine started toward King Dave. Her daddy tried to pull her back, but she rounded on him. King Dave waited hopefully for her to punch him in the snoot.

  But she yelled, “No, Daddy! I’ve changed my mind!”

  He whined, “Daughter!”

  Nadine hustled over to where King Dave stood, tripping over other runners-up, bouncing against their big dresses like a bumper car. King Dave stepped on a few more pointy toes.

  He met her halfway. She threw herself into his arms.

  He lost interest in the ceremony.

  At some point, in the background, the limp priest said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “Meet me downstairs,” Nadine hissed to King Dave as the wedding guests surged toward the reception line. She lost him in spite of her death-grip on his hand. He vanished in the crush.

  Along with church bells, a huge freedom rang in her head. She felt like celebrating. Ella Mae glared holes in her as she walked brazenly past the reception line instead of taking her place to shake hands. Daddy looked wilted and smaller than ever.

  Nadine felt that if she didn’t find King Dave right away, she would lose courage.

  On the stairs down to the reception she got trapped into shaking hands. Everyone had something to say to her.

  “Lovely dress, Nadine. Ella Mae pick that out for you?”

  “Are you gonna behave now, Nadine? After you tried to ruin your father’s wedding like you did Carla Detteridge’s.”

  “Can I come see you in Chicago, Nadine?”

  “It’s been awful. Ella Mae’s getting worse and worse. She’s not you, Nadine. Pastor doesn’t understand that.”

  “Come over here and get in this photo, Nadine.”

  “You put on weight in Chicago, didn’t you, Nadine?”

  “Nadine, that dress looks like a houseboat on you.”

  Nadine felt it wouldn’t be so bad if so many people weren’t being nice to her. Every time someone made her feel welcome again, her heart swelled up, she felt tears threatening, and then wham! She was wide open for another catty remark. Thank goodness she’d left her suitcase in the robing room. Once the cake was cut, she could leave. Nobody would miss her.

  Daddy caught up with her in front of the head table. “I assume, daughter,” her father said stiffly, “that you invited a friend to my wedding. That’s your privilege.”

  Ella Mae snapped, “Nobody gets married in Chicago. They just live in sin.” She looked straight through Nadine.

  Daddy said, “But I expect to see appropriate attire in a house of worship.”

  Nadine looked down at herself. “Ella Mae picked out this dress.” The houseboat skirt wobbled as people bumped into her.

  Someone slipped an arm around her from behind. “Hey, princess. Lookin’ good.”

  She whirled around. “King Dave!”

  He smiled at her like an angel. “Thought I’d check in.”

  She threw herself into his arms again. “Oh, King Dave,” she squealed, muffling her face on his shoulder.

  He squished her against his wonderful chest. “Your highness,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m here to spring you.”

  “King Dave, King Dave,” she sobbed foolishly. She caught herself. She became aware of an open space forming around them.

  “Hang tight,” he whispered, squeezing her. Oh, he smelled good. She clung to him. Let Goreville look. He touched his forehead to hers and murmured, “Smile. Stick your pretty nose in the air, princess, and let me do the talking.”

  She was speechless anyway. King Dave looked stunningly out of place. He wore Levis. The chest of his black rock’n’roll tee-shirt was printed with a smirking, bristly pig in black leather, riding a motorcycle and smoking a cigar. One chestnut curl hung into his angel-blue eyes, and his face was full of mischief.

  He looked past her and stretched out a hand. “Yo, Pastor Fisher. Good to meet you finally! You got a major babe for a daughter here,” he said boisterously, squishing Nadine against him and shaking Daddy’s hand with vigor.

  Daddy looked like Lot’s wife. Ella Mae’s eyes bugged out. Nadine listened, flabbergasted, as did everyone gathered around.

  “And this is the new ball-and-chain? Congratulations, Mrs. Fisher!” Ruthlessly he shook Ella Mae’s hand. “Not as tall as the ex-wife, are you?” he said, looking her over. “Now there’s a babe for you. Did Nadine tell you we ran into her mother at the Opera House? I guess she’s designing underwear for Fredericks of Hollywood. She’s making a bundle. Small world, huh?”

  Ella Mae jerked her hand out of King Dave’s. She sucked her lower lip back into her mouth. Her eyes were like golf balls.

  Around them, people began to whisper.

  “Daughter,” Daddy said in an undervoice, “you promised—”

  “I had no idea he was here!” Nadine whispered. “If you think you can shut him up, you try!”

  Daddy looked white. His glance darted around the room. Nadine saw the Detteridges in the front row. Duane and Tilly Carpentiere stood with their arms folded, looking grim.

  “I guess Nadine thought she was dead, so, like, that was a huge surprise,” King Dave yapped happily, spilling the beans with a firm hand. “When was the last time you talked to her, Nadine?”

  Her eyes rolled in panic. Suddenly she realized that King Dave didn’t know she’d talked to Momma.

  She opened her mouth to tell him, caught Daddy’s look, and shut up, fascinated.

  Daddy was swelling. He wore a resolute face. He raised his head and boomed out, “Friends.”

  The crowd moved a little closer.

  “That’s our cue,” King Dave muttered, tugging her hand.

  “No.” Whatever Daddy would say, she should face him down this time, here, in front of everyone. She told Daddy quietly, “It’s not my fault King Dave told your secrets. And I—I decided you bought and paid for your life sentence. You’ve kept Ella Mae on a string for at least ten years. You owe her.”

  Daddy had never looked so rock-like. Nadine swallowed. Her hand tightened on King Dave’s.

  “What are you doing?” Ella Mae hissed to her bridegroom.

  “Friends, I have a confession to make,” Daddy announced.

  “Oh, no,” Nadine said.

  “Oh, no,” Ella Mae said.

  “Now will you come with me?” King Dave muttered in her ear.

  “But—” Nadine protested as he dragged her backward into the crowd, which parted to let them pass. “I should be there!”

  “To steal his show? Nah. He’s already written your lines and he’ll say ’em for you.” King Dave towed her upstairs and tried to drag her outside. “I’m taking you back to Chicago.”

  She laughed delightedly. “Wait, I have to change clothes!” She pulled him toward the choir robing room.

  “Good idea. You look like you’re wearin’ a houseboat.”

  “I’ll show you the clothes Momma gave me,” she said, pulling him into a room that, to his masculine eye, seemed festooned with women’s underthings. “See? Two
silk suits, lilac and green.”

  King Dave realized that she had met his dare after all. She’d talked to her mom. He’d been pretty damned arrogant to demand it of her. He still hadn’t met her dare.

  Don’t think about what she’ll say when she finds out.

  “Aren’t they gorgeous?” she said, flapping the clothes.

  “They look as good on you as that dress I bought you?”

  She laughed merrily. “King Dave, you are so bad! The look on Ella Mae’s face! Momma designs dresses, not underwear.”

  “Close enough, princess.”

  She threw herself on his chest and snuggled up. “How ever did you find me?”

  May as well confess now. She might not want to leave town at all, once she learned the truth.

  “You know how you told me I didn’t have the nerve to apply for a job? Well, I did it.”

  She took a deep breath. “King Dave, I never meant—”

  “Galaxy flyman, like you said. Flew to New York, took a rigging course, came down here for Q-Drive school.”

  “You—you did?” Her lips parted. She glowed. “King Dave, that’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you.” She reached for him.

  With both hands, he held her off. “Don’t bust the champagne bottle yet.” He swallowed. “I ain’t got the job.”

  She bristled. “I don’t believe it! Did they give it to somebody else?”

  “Not yet. This production manager, he’s gotta see how my scores stack up. I don’t see how I can get it,” he confessed.

  She smiled hesitantly. “Now you sound like your Daddy.”

  “Yeah, he said it, too. How can a roughneck like me get in with the khaki pants crowd? I look like an idiot.”

  “No, you do not. You look like a king.” Her smile had him all hot inside. “It’s just that your Daddy thinks he owns you.”

  “They all think they own us,” he said darkly. “Your dumb little town, my Local. Our fathers.”

  “That’s because they give us so much,” she said.

  “I don’t get that.” Grateful simply because she wasn’t dumping him yet, he said, “My old man keeps me working. What the hell has your old man ever done, besides screw you up?”

  “He gave me his power, King Dave. He thinks he isn’t worth anything else. I only pray he figures out he’s wrong.”

  “Think he can get away with the big confession?”

  “Probably,” she said, looking troubled. “Tilly said something about the board of elders, like they’re not happy with him.”

  He blurted, “You feel sorry for him now, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. I was so—so harsh with him today. I’ve never spoken to him like that in my life. His face—”

  “It’s the price he pays for owning you.”

  She sucked in a long breath. “He looked so shocked. Everyone was watching. It was terrible.”

  He took both her hands in his. “Your highness, all that happened was, he made a system and for once it worked against him. It cuts two ways. He owns you, but you own him.”

  She glanced up at him. “It cuts two ways with the Local, too, King Dave.”

  He blinked. “How do you figure?”

  “You’re in a high position because of your father. He can’t take you out of that position—”

  “He sure would have liked to, a week ago. Man, you should have heard him cuss when I told him I wanted this job.” And boy, would King Dave get it again, if he blew this job and had to call back in for work. The old man would never, ever forgive him.

  She continued serenely, “Because you’re part of his status now. So he’s stuck with you. That’s why he cussed. He knows you’ve got him, the way I’ve got Daddy. Like you say, he made the system. You think he can stop you from working, King Dave, but he can’t,” she said earnestly. “Not if you’re determined.”

  “Princess,” he said painfully, “I may not get the job. I may not be good enough.”

  She smoothed the tee-shirt over his chest. “There will be other jobs.”

  His breath caught. He grabbed her hand. “Look at me.”

  She gave him her baby-blue look, sweet and open and not caring a damn about how important he was.

  “Are you my girl?” he said. “Are you stuck with me?”

  “For better or for worse, King Dave,” she whispered. “How ’bout you?”

  He jerked her close and kissed her as hard as he could. “I’ve missed you so much.” She kissed him back. The tightness in his chest eased. “Don’t ever disappear like that again,” he murmured. “I can’t live without you. My kid misses you. I think even my mother misses you.”

  “I love you, King Dave.”

  “Love you too,” he said, and lunged for her mouth again. “Princess,” he said when they came up for air, “you got yourself a stagehand.”

  “I want a promotion,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes. “That was quick.” He wondered how this dress came off. Felt like a bunch of hooks and eyes back there. No point grabbing her butt—too much padding. He tried anyway.

  “Pay attention.” She kicked him on the ankle. “Weasel’s started calling me Queen Nadine.”

  King Dave slumped. “News moves too fast in this Local.”

  “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think? Sounds good together, doesn’t it? King Dave and Queen Nadine.”

  “I’ll call you anything you want if you take the dress off.”

  She slithered away from him and started unhooking the dress. “No, no,” she panted when he tried to help. “No, you don’t. We’re leaving, remember?”

  He sighed. They shouldn’t do it in a church anyway. “You’re torturing me.” He watched with longing as she peeled.

  It was worth crashing a wedding to watch her struggle out of the houseboat. Her queen-size breasts leaped and bounced free. His palms itched to help. In the sunlight peeping through the venetian blinds, she was pale and curvy and blonde and built, like a vintage Camaro, the perfect woman.

  Immediately, she got dressed again. King Dave sighed.

  “Don’t you love Momma’s pantsuit?”

  All the same, these waitresses, he thought affectionately. Soon as you commit yourself, they forget about sex and think about clothes. “Uh-huh.”

  She added, “Oh, hey, I’m going to be Momma’s fashion model!”

  He threw his hands in the air.

  She took forever to get ready. King Dave kept an eye cocked. Pastor Fisher would finish his big confession, and then they’d have the whole boiling out here, butting in, probably trying to make Nadine stay longer.

  But “The Hokey-Pokey” sounded as they got to the door.

  “Guess they didn’t lynch him,” she said, looking guilty.

  “’Course not. It’s a wedding.” King Dave hustled her to the car. He put her suitcase in the trunk and moved his own suitcase back there with it.

  When he shut the trunk, she leaped into his arms.

  “Marry me, Queen Nadine?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she said when he let her.

  “I take it all back.” The pants were elastic, he discovered. “I approve of these clothes.” He stuck his hands down the back and grabbed a double handful of the best butt in the world.

  “Get in the car, you lecher.” She pushed him away and swayed away around the front of the car.

  “Love you too, princess.”

  “That’s Queen Nadine to you.” She wrestled into the seatbelt, pulling it across those fabulous breasts, adjusting them, making them bob around. His jeans were already too tight.

  “Enough already,” he said huskily.

  “Hey! I get a moniker if I want one. Besides, I have a feeling Weasel will take it out of our hands.”

  “Don’t keep...fiddling with that seat belt.”

  She met his lusty look. Her eyes glowed. “Watch the road. If you’re real good, I’ll give you directions to a motel.”

  THE END

  Read two chapters from the next book
in the series, Fools Paradise, on the next page...

  FOOLS PARADISE (sample)

  Chapter One

  The fat lady was about to sing. Up in the followspot booth, sixty feet over the audience, Bobbyjay Morton aimed his darkened Supertrouper spotlight at her. The music swelled. He heard the stage manager on his headset.

  “Warning. Number two spot in color six to pick up Brunnhilde.”

  In the same moment, his cell phone vibrated on his hip.

  “Spot two go.”

  Cursing silently, he powered up the Supertrouper. Bang, he nailed the fat lady with a beam of bright pink light. She wouldn’t move now. This was Wagner.

  He checked his phone.

  “What is it?” he hissed, stepping away from the window into darkness.

  The voice of his father, hilarious with beer, said, “You are not going to believe what we just did!”

  “Keep it down, Dad, I’m in the booth at the Opera.”

  He heard his grandfather say, “Gimme that phone,” and what sounded like a tussle at the other end. Then his grandfather said, “We’re at the old smelt fishing spot. Get down here.”

  “What?” Bobbyjay squeaked. “I’m running the show!”

  “Get down here.” His grandfather sounded unusually grim and, what’s more, sober. “I mean it.”

  “I’ll get fined! They’ll fire my ass!”

  “No, they won’t.” Bobby Senior was the oldest and most powerful Bobby Morton in the stagehands union Local. “Well, they’ll fine you, but they won’t fire you. Come now.” The phone went dead.

  That meant that whatever was happening at the lakefront would get Bobbyjay in much more trouble than walking off the job in the middle of a performance of Götterdämmerung. He touched the shoulder of the number one spot operator.

  “Yo, Mikey Ray. I got a crisis. Can you cover for me for a few minutes?” Mikey Ray looked up. Bobbyjay added honestly, “Maybe the rest of the show?”

  “You can’t do that. They’ll shitcan you,” Mikey Ray hissed. Comprehension crossed his face. “Those idiots can’t do this to you. Tell ’em no.”