by Debby Mayne
“Alabama,” Celeste says.
“What in the world were you doin’ in Alabama when you were supposed to be here helpin’ us set up?”
Celeste looks at Jimmy, who now has beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down. “Gettin’ married.”
Laura pulls back, her eyes looking like they’re ready to pop right out of her head. “What?”
Celeste holds up her left hand and points to her ring finger. “Me and Jimmy got married today.”
The low murmur in the room instantly stops. Laura’s chin falls slack.
I reach for Celeste to give her a hug. She stiffens, but I pull her close anyway and whisper, “Congratulations,” before letting go.
Pete appears, hands Jimmy a cup of beer, and slaps him on the back. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” He laughs and lifts his own cup. “Here’s to the happy couple.”
Jimmy starts to take a swig, but Celeste gives him a look, and he sets down his beer. “I . . . I’m drivin’, so I better not drink.”
“Nonsense.” Pete picks up Jimmy’s beer and hands it to him. “You got you a wife now. She can drive.”
As Celeste and Jimmy continue giving each other looks, I glance over at Laura who has retreated from the group and sits on the arm of the sofa, still looking stunned. I join her.
“You okay?” I ask.
Laura nods. “I just can’t believe they did that. I mean, I figured they’d probably eventually get married, but I thought I might get to be matron of honor, since Celeste and I . . . well, we’ve sort of become best friends.” She sniffles and looks me in the eye. “I never had a best friend before . . . well, not countin’ Pete.”
“She can still be your best friend.”
With tears in her eyes, Laura flicks an invisible piece of lent from her clothes. “But I won’t be in her weddin’.” She swallows hard. “I never been in someone else’s weddin’ before.”
Celeste separates herself from the group still standing around her and Jimmy, and joins us. “Laura, I could hear everything you was sayin’. I had no idea bein’ in my weddin’ was so important to you.” Her chin quivers, and tears spring to her eyes. “I didn’t even know Jimmy was already plannin’ on askin’ me to marry him until today, when he told me after we done tied the knot.”
“Well, I knew,” Laura says.
As I watch these two awkwardly show their affection for each other, an idea springs to mind. “Hey, why don’t y’all still have a wedding?”
They both look up at me, and Celeste nods. “Ya know, that’s a good idea. We can have a little weddin’ at the church and have a reception and serve cake and punch and everything.” She cuts her gaze over to Laura. “And you can put on your prettiest dress and be my matron of honor. I’ll even get my cousin to take pictures.”
A grin plays on Laura’s lips. “When do you wanna do this?”
Celeste taps her finger on her chin. “We’ll have to do some plannin’, but since we’re already married, it shouldn’t be too hard.”
As the two of them chatter about Celeste’s upcoming wedding, I back away from them. Tim joins me by the kitchen.
“Can you believe it?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t have guessed it, but now that it’s happened, I can see it.”
Tim grins. “This actually seems more romantic than a traditional weddin’.”
“Deep down, you’re pretty romantic, aren’t you?”
He nods. “Yeah, I reckon I am.”
“You’re an unusual man, Tim.”
“Not as unusual as you might think. Most men appreciate a good romance, but they don’t like to admit it.”
More than ever, I wish there was a stronger chemistry between Tim and me. He’ll make someone a fabulous boyfriend and husband someday. Then it dawns on me. As long as I have such an active part in his life, he’s not as likely to move on.
“We need to talk soon,” I say.
“Me and you?” He lifts his eyebrows. “We talk all the time.”
“No, I mean really talk. About us. About what we want in life.”
“So what are you sayin’, Priscilla? Are Jimmy and Celeste givin’ you some ideas?”
Uh-oh. I think Tim’s reading me wrong. “Not ideas about getting married, but what they did is bringing some things to light.”
The sound of scuffling above us captures all our attention. “Mama! Tell Jack to stop hittin’ me!”
Laura’s nostrils flare as she storms away from Celeste, past the other guests, and stomps up the stairs, growling and mumbling what she wishes she could do to her children but won’t because she’d be arrested. We all look around at one another in awkward silence, until Laura returns. “I told them young’uns they better behave, or I’m not givin’ ’em a dime.”
“You’re givin’ ’em money?” Celeste asks.
Pete snickers. “Yeah, she told ’em we could either hire a babysitter to watch ’em tonight, or we can pay them to behave while we party.” He leans toward Tim and whispers, “Don’t tell anyone, but I got the old lady across the street watchin’ the house and makin’ sure no one comes and goes while we’re not here. I don’t trust my young’uns as far as I can throw ’em.”
I glance at Tim, and he raises his eyebrows. “Oh.” He takes a sip of his soft drink. “I think we need to help clean up and get goin’ to the school. Me and Pete got the streamers hung, but I’m worried the tape didn’t hold. We might need to reinforce the decorations.”
I know this is Tim’s way of getting out of an uncomfortable discussion, so I nod. We need to continue our talk later, in private. “Then let’s do it.”
As Celeste and Laura sit on the sofa planning the wedding, Pete, Jimmy, Tim, and I pick up some of the trash. It doesn’t take long because most of the guests have left. I’m glad Laura’s not acting as frantic as she has been.
Tim and I make our exit without being noticed, since everyone is now clustered on the sofa, loveseat, and chair in Laura and Pete’s living room. All the way to the school, Tim talks about what he and Pete did to the cafeteria. I know he’s focusing on that to keep from talking about weddings and marriage.
We walk into the dark cafeteria that still smells like school lunches, even though school’s been out for more than a week. I find comfort in the fact that certain things remain constant.
Tim feels around for the light switches and flips them. “Looks good.” He points to one streamer that has fallen. “I’ll stick that back up, and we’re good to go.”
The cafeteria is not nearly as heavily decorated as the gym was five years ago, but I know that’s because Laura handed the task over to her husband. I have to admit I’m surprised she did that. The decorations at the last class reunion were over the top, and they took forever to remove.
“The band should be here soon,” Tim says. “Pete says they’re able to play all styles of music.”
I laugh. “Zeke Jacoby is a character.” All the members of Zeke and the Geeks were in the Piney Point High School marching band, and if there had been a prize for worst music, they would have won, hands down. But Zeke, who was a year ahead of me in school, has always been a sweetheart, someone who went through middle and high school in a state of cluelessness that endeared him to everyone, regardless of social status. He never realized he wasn’t handsome, so others managed to overlook it too. He wound up marrying one of the Olson girls and now manages the IT department of the family business.
The sound of a truck pulling up out front gets our attention. Tim walks over to the door before turning to let me know Sonya the caterer has arrived. I’m surprised Laura was willing to hire a caterer, but as things change, I see that she’s coming to realize quite a bit. It’s part of the growing process that I’ve seen in myself as I develop my business.
“Just put it all on that table in the back,” Tim says.
“You got a tablecloth?” Sonya asks.
Tim stands there scratching his head. “Um . . . I don’t know nothin’ about
a tablecloth.”
Sonya looks at me and winks. “I have a spare one in the truck. Y’all can borrow it. Just make sure no one walks off with it.”
Tim and I help Sonya carry everything into the cafeteria, but once we have everything out of the truck, Sonya asks us to leave her alone. “This is one of those jobs that one person can do better than three.”
“We still have half an hour.” Tim looks around. “Zeke should be here any minute. I hope he’s not late.”
“Don’t worry about so much. Even if Zeke shows up late, everything will turn out just fine.”
Sonya has everything on the table within fifteen minutes. “I left the wrap on the platters. All you have to do is remove it right before the party starts. I’ll be back before the party’s over to get all my stuff outta here.”
Tim walks her out to her truck, while I look over the food Sonya has carefully prepared and laid out. She’s done an excellent job with presentation, and I see that she’s also placed her business cards around the table. I take a couple—one for me and one for Celeste, in case she decides to have her wedding catered.
When Tim walks in, he tries to pretend he’s not worried, but I can tell he is. “Zeke’s not here yet, and the party is supposed to start soon.” He rubs his neck as he paces in front of the refreshment table. “Where’s Laura and Pete? I can’t believe the person in charge of this whole thing ain’t even here yet.” He stops and gives me a sheepish look. “Oops. I mean she isn’t even here yet.”
I smile. “Stop worrying so much, Tim. Everything will be just fine.” In spite of my reassurance, I’ve been thinking some of the same worrisome thoughts as Tim. Laura fussed and worried over every last detail of the ten-year reunion, but this one almost seems like an afterthought.
The flash of headlights as the cars pull into the school parking lot gives me a moment of panic. When I see that it’s Laura and Pete and Celeste and Jimmy, I let out a sigh of relief.
The first thing out of Laura’s mouth when she enters the cafeteria is, “Where’s Zeke? Isn’t he supposed to be here already?”
Tim shrugs. “He’s not here yet.”
Back in frantic form, Laura shouts over her shoulder. “Pete, call Zeke and tell him to get over here right this minute.”
“Calm down, Laura. He’ll be here.”
As if on cue, another truck pulls up in front of the cafeteria. One of the band members hops out and comes inside. “Sorry we’re late, folks. They messed up our pizza order, so we had to wait for them to cook us another one. We ate as fast as we could.”
Laura runs outside to give Zeke a piece of her mind, while the rest of the band members start carrying stuff inside. Add guests arriving to the mix, and chaos abounds.
Tim approaches me with a crooked grin. “Ahh, the sounds of having fun. Can’t get any better than this.” He shakes his head. “Maybe y’all should consider having the next reunion at the country club. At least there they’ll have someone to coordinate it.”
“What? And take away all Laura’s fun? She’d never forgive us for that.”
“Hey, you two.” Celeste motions us over. “I need someone to check people in and give them their name tags.”
I step forward. “I’ll take care of that.”
“And I’ll go see if I can rescue Zeke from Laura’s wrath.” Tim waves as he takes off toward the stage, where Laura is still gesturing wildly as she hollers at the man who is supposed to supply the music but looks like he might change his mind. I have faith that if anyone can save the moment, it’s Tim.
The moment I sit down behind the registration table, I see Didi and Maurice walking toward me. He’s a couple of paces ahead of her, and she has to take little skipping steps to catch up.
I rummage through the name tags to find theirs and hand them over as soon as Maurice gets to the table. “Here ya go. I already put a checkmark by your names.” I have to dig deep for the self-restraint required not to glare at Maurice. He’s such a worm.
“Maurice, can you wait just a minute? My feet are killing me.” Didi limps up to the table.
“I told you to wear flats and carry your heels in your bag.” The sound of impatience in his voice reminds me of the times when I used to chase after him for interviews back when he was a football player and I was on the school newspaper staff.
“You did not.” Didi stops, plants her fist on her hip, and bobs her head—looking more like a teenage girl on a reality show than an ear, nose, and throat doctor. “In fact, you’re the one who said I should wear heels because they make my legs look—”
“Women.” Maurice snorts as he gives me a look that makes me want to smack him. “Seems there’s nothing I can do to make ’em happy.”
“Maybe you should try being nice,” I say. “I’ve seen you act before. I’m sure you can pull it off.”
Didi narrows her eyes and comes toward me with determination. “What did you just say to my fiancé?”
Maurice leans away, arms folded, an annoying grin on his lips. “Ooh, I love a good catfight.”
“Sorry, Maurice,” I say, “but there won’t be any catfights tonight. Didi and I are both reasonable, professional women who would never stoop that low.” I look her in the eye and see the low simmer brewing. “Right, Didi?”
35
Laura
The reunion party got off to a rocky start, with Zeke and his buddies being late, but everything seems just fine now, thanks to Priscilla’s fella, Tim. He’s a real gem. If she was as smart as everyone seems to think she is, she would have married him already. But no, she’s too focused on her career and all those sky-high goals. One of these days she’ll wake up and realize how she’s been chasing after the wrong thing.
I look around the room and see Celeste flashing her ring finger, thinking folks will be impressed that she finally tied the knot. Problem is, there’s no bling on that finger—just a tiny gold band that I can barely see from where I stand.
Jimmy is still walking around in a daze. What can I expect? It’s his wedding day, and they’re sharing it with their high school graduatin’ class. How pitiful is that!
Over by the registration table, Priscilla sits there pretending not to be bothered by the fact that Didi has gotten her hooks into Maurice who is, in my book, too pretty for any girl in Piney Point. I don’t think there’s a mirror in the whole town he hasn’t made friends with. The problem is, the mirror doesn’t show what’s behind the pretty face. I’ve never much liked Maurice, and even though Pete used to hang out with all those guys from the football team, he hasn’t either. He used to call Maurice a player.
Pete’s still a little ticked that I insisted on us coming to the reunion party together, in the same vehicle. He says he likes knowing he can leave whenever he wants, but I figure if I’m stuck here, he can deal with a few hours of being someplace he doesn’t wanna be.
Everything seems to be running smoothly, so I head on over to the refreshment table to get something to drink. I pick up a can of soda and turn around in time to see Deputy Patrick Moody walking toward me, that same look of determination I used to see on his face when I babysat him. He’s cute in a military sorta way.
I smile real big to welcome him, but he doesn’t smile back. Someone should’ve taught that boy some manners.
“Mrs. Moss, where’s your husband?”
Something about the way he says that sends a shiver through me. “Why? What’s goin’ on, Patrick?”
“We need to find your husband.”
I start to argue, but he tightens his jaw and pushes back his shoulders, letting me know he’s in charge. Okay, so I have to find Pete in order to find out what has Deputy Moody in such a snit.
“Is that him over there?” Patrick points over toward the rear exit.
I look up in time to see my husband tossing back something in a paper bag. How on earth did he find alcohol here? I know I didn’t bring any, and Jimmy’s been with Celeste.
“Looks like it,” I say between gritted teeth.
“Pete, I’d like to have a word with you and Mrs. Moss.” Oh, so Patrick is on a first name basis with my husband but not me? I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
Rather than try to hide his paper bag, Pete holds it up in a salute before putting it down. “Can you give me a few minutes?”
“No, sir, I can’t. There’s been an accident.”
My heart stops. “The young’uns.”
Pete’s face goes all sickly pale. He tosses his bag into the trash can and turns to face Patrick. “What happened?”
“Your neighbor Mrs. Crenshaw called 911 after she couldn’t get in touch with you. Said your children went out for a joy ride in the truck.” He looks down at his feet. “I went lookin’ for ’em and when they spotted the blue light, we had a little chase. Until they got to the curve in the highway goin’ to Hattiesburg, and the oldest boy lost control of the vehicle. Good thing they were wearing seatbelts.” He pauses. “I have to admit I haven’t seen many teenage joy riders wearin’ seatbelts.”
My stomach roils, and I fall into Pete. Fortunately, he’s still able to hold me up.
“The kids are all fine, but your truck . . . ” He holds out his hands. “You’ll need to call your insurance company . . . and maybe a lawyer”
I look at Pete, whose face has gone slack. “You sure the kids is all right?”
Patrick nods. “Pretty shaken but fine. The oldest suffered a few scrapes on his arm, and one of the girls has bruises, but it doesn’t look like anything’s broken. They’re at the sheriff’s office right now.”
“Just wait’ll I get ahold of ’em,” Pete says. “They coulda been killed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“C’mon, Pete, we need to go get ’em outta jail.” I tug on my husband’s arm.
For the first time since he arrived, Patrick cracks a smile. “They’re not in jail, Mrs. Moss, but they’ll probably wish they were after your husband sees his truck.”
