Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,105
he started to pull open the door for me. Then he stopped suddenly, letting go of the door to look at my face. “Wait, what happened to your eye? Did those guys . . . ?”
I shook my head at Joe’s horrified expression and touched the bottom of my bruised eye. I’d thought the makeup covered it pretty well, but Joe didn’t miss anything.
“No, that’s from practice.” The Bobby-free truth. “We didn’t even play the game. They forfeited. Or, really, they showed up just to humiliate us,” I said. “And then we got them back, and then the cops came. . . . It’s a really long story.”
Joe seemed to be having trouble deciphering what I’d said. “Wait, you didn’t play? And the cops? Are you okay? Fucking Ken.”
“Yep, he was definitely the leader,” I said, but I was edgy about spending more time recounting the story than I already had. “I’ll tell you everything. But I should find Polly. I was supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“You had me nervous,” Joe said. “But you look nice. Better than nice. Really pretty.” He grinned as he reached for the door handle a second time. “And the shiner with the fancy dress is pretty foxy.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only if you’re really looking,” he said in a low voice. I shivered a little, not sure if it was from his tone or the light breeze on my bare shoulders. But, really, the night was uncharacteristically nice for November.
He was holding the front door for me and standing very formally. We both seemed a little stilted compared to our normal selves, but maybe it was the special occasion.
“You look nice too. Handsome. I like your hair better the other way, though.”
Joe self-consciously touched his head. “Yeah, well, it’s a wedding.”
I shook my head and smirked. “Not very punk rock of you.”
“Hey, it’s a way of being!”
Polly was easy to find. She was right inside the front doors, next to a tall potted plant. She had on her wedding dress and was smoking over a tall ashtray. I’d never seen her smoke before. She beamed when she saw me and quickly stubbed out her cigarette.
“You’re here!” Polly reached out and smoothed my hair, very gently, like she wasn’t sure she could make such a gesture.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, this is Joe,” I said all in a rush.
“It’s nice to meet you, Joe.” She offered her hand for Joe to shake.
“Thanks for having me,” he said.
“We had an issue after the game and—”
“It’s okay,” Polly said. “We haven’t even started, and I’m out here hiding from my mother. You father’s probably worried about marrying me after seeing her in action.”
I’d only met Polly’s mom once, in passing, at the last dress fitting. She was a small, pinched woman who had swept a finger over the boutique’s jewelry case, looking for dust. When Polly emerged in her dress, looking like an angel, her mother had said that the lace bodice was “awfully sheer” and wasn’t the cap sleeve inappropriate given a November wedding? The only time I’d seen Polly’s cheerful personality punctured was when her mother was around.
“You don’t seem to have a lot in common with her,” I said. “I’m sure he’s not worried.”
“They say that women become their mothers, but your dad is always reassuring me that I’m my own person,” she said, and I wondered who this reassuring version of my dad was. “Anyway, I’m relieved and happy to see you.” She squeezed my shoulder. “And you.” She smiled at Joe.
“Can we do anything to help? Like, maid of honor stuff?”
“No, everything is good as it’s going to get.” She sniffed the air. “I need to put on some perfume so I don’t smell like the Marlboro Man during the ceremony.”
She gave me a hug that caught me by surprise and I made eye contact with Joe, who grinned at me as if to say, “You’ve gotta go with it.” I squeezed Polly back.
“All I want is for you two to have fun,” she said, pulling away. “I’ll see you at the ceremony.”
The ceremony was, predictably, short and sweet. Or at least short. Maybe because we barely attended church services, Trinity Lutheran had sent a minister who had all the enthusiasm of the DMV employee who’d half-heartedly conducted my driver’s test. But my dad looked happy, and his hazel eyes even shone with an appreciative tear when he said “I do.”
As soon as he’d kissed the bride and they’d walked from