“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” I said, then hugged both of them. “Go on now. Joe and I’ll be home soon.” As Ida and Horvald—our other neighbor, who was courting Ida in every proper sense of the word—headed out with the kids, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least now when the fireworks flew, the kids would be out of the way. And I had an awful feeling we’d soon be witnessing a brilliant show.
I turned to find my sister, Rose, waiting patiently. Rose was short like me, but fashionably thin and she had a pinched look to her mouth that made her look older than me even though she was a year or so younger.
“Emmy, I know that it’s been a long evening, but I wanted to give you this. It’s a sister-present.” She held out a box.
I hesitated, then accepted the narrow velvet box. Rose and I might be the same height and have the same eyes, but there all resemblances ceased, personality included. She was the good girl, I was the wild child—at least according to Grandma M. Rose was generous, but every gift she gave came with strings attached. I glanced at her and she beamed. Maybe, I thought, maybe she really meant it this time. A sister-present.
I flipped the top on the box and gasped. Nestled on a bed of red velvet rested a faceted crystal necklace. The beads were bound together by bronze fasteners, and their surfaces glistened, sparkling with rainbows. Speechless, I lifted it out of the box and held it up to the light.
Rose broke into a wide smile. “Do you like it?”
“I love it!” And I did. It was so much my style that I wondered just how she’d picked it out. Everything she’d ever bought for me had ended up at the thrift store after spending a year in the back of my closet. As I looked at her expectant face, however, I pushed away my ungenerous thoughts. Maybe Rose wanted to mend fences, bridge the gap that had kept us on opposite shores since we were young.
“Here, let me put it on for you,” she said, taking the necklace as she motioned for me to turn around. I unfastened the gold chain I was already wearing and slipped it into the box as she encircled my neck with her gift. “It’s called the Bride’s Circlet,” she said. “The owner of the shop where I bought it said he thinks it’s about a hundred and fifty years old, but he wasn’t positive.”
An antique? I didn’t dare ask how much the necklace had cost her. Rose was well-to-do, thanks to her ever-absent salesman of a husband, but I still had the feeling this had set her back a little.
“Thank you,” I whispered, then impulsively turned to give her a hug. As I did, I suddenly felt dizzy and swayed. She reached for my hand until I could balance myself.
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking worried.
I nodded. “Yeah, I just felt . . . a little weird. Like something shifted.” Wonderful—a psychic quake. I wondered what was up, but didn’t have time to focus on what had caused my vertigo because she launched into an unexpected monologue.
“I saw that and I thought, that has Emerald written all over it. I know I’ve been aloof for a while, but I’m so glad you wanted a big wedding with family and everything—we so seldom ever get together. It occurred to me that maybe we should hold a family reunion this autumn and all meet in Seattle or even over on the shoreline, Ocean Shores or Kalaloch or one of those resort areas. So, do you like the necklace?” Without skipping a beat, she fell silent, like a wind-up toy that had suddenly run down.
Still foggy from the vertigo attack and her sudden fountain of words, I nodded and held out my arms. “How about that hug now? I love it, Rosy. I really do. You’re a sweetheart.”
She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into the embrace. “Anything for my big sister’s wedding. I think this one will last,” she added. “I like Joe a lot better than I did Roy. Grandma M.’s having a hissy fit over his age, but she told me—in secret, so don’t you say anything—that she likes him. She thinks he’s a ‘properly mannered young man’ and that maybe he can ‘tame Emerald into behaving like a proper lady.’ ”
I sputtered for a moment, then burst out laughing. Rose joined me and for the first time in years, we giggled over a secret. Might we actually be able to develop a friendship after all of these years? We’d never had any official falling out, just one hell of a fight when we were young that put an end to our developing bond. After that we were polite, we sent cards and called once in a while, but Rose and I had nothing as strong as my connection with Murray.
I was about to tell her how glad I was that she’d come when a loud shout from the other end of the room caught my attention. I broke a path through the dancers and stepped into an opening near the buffet. Roy, beer in hand, stood nose-to-chin with Joe. By the look of the scattered bottles on the table, I figured Roy had made up for lost time. He was easily three sheets to the wind. The man never could hold his liquor, a problem that had become a serious issue as our marriage had disintegrated.
“Let me tell you a little about her,” Roy was saying. “She got fat on me . . . she let her—her—herself go and she got fat on me.”
“And let me tell you once again to shut your mouth or get out.” Joe hadn’t seen me yet. A good four inches taller than Roy, he was glaring down at him, the look in his eyes the closest I’d ever seen to violence.
“What the hell is going on?” I said. “Roy, you dolt! Do you have to cause trouble every time you’re around?”
“Where are the kids?” he asked, looking around wildly. “I wanna tell them good night.”
Shoving my way between the two men, I jabbed Roy in the chest with my finger. “I sent them home. It’s time for you to leave, too. Call them when you’re sober.” I had no intention of setting him off, but then again, that’s how it had always been—never knowing when he was going to blow his stack. Life with Roy had been a series of days spent walking on eggshells. Unfortunately, this turned out to be one of those times.
“Tell me to leave, will you? You’re still the same bitch you were when I dumped you years ago! I should have taken the kids, you slut—” And just like that, in front of everyone, Roy took a swing at me. His open hand grazed my cheek before I realized what was happening.
Barely aware of the blow that set my ears ringing, I lost it. “You fucking bastard, you honestly think you can still get away with that? You’ve got a big lesson to learn, Roy, and one of these days, you’re going to learn it the hard way.”
Years of repressed anger fueling me, I lunged, shoving him hard. He landed on the main buffet table, right in the center of the two-tier cake shaped like a giant teapot. Before I could do or say another thing, Joe and Jimbo were bearing down on Roy, and they looked ready to kill.
Two
I KNOW THAT a lot of women might find the scenario romantic . . . their fiancé battling their ex-husband to defend their honor, but I was totally mortified. It didn’t help that I blamed myself. I’d played right into Roy’s machinations by allowing him into the party in the first place.
“I’ll teach you to hit my fiancée. Or any woman for that matter!” Joe made a grab for Roy, but stumbled back as Jimbo intervened, hauling Roy off the floor as he lifted him by the collar. Roy’s feet dangled a good half-foot from the floor. The look on Jimbo’s face was so chiseled it could have cut diamonds.
“We’re both gonna teach you a lesson,” Jimbo said, his voice gruff. His eyes sparkled, and I had the feeling he was enjoying this.
Joe shook his head. “He’s mine, man.”