I leaned on my elbows, letting the evening breeze sweep away my worries. As I sat up, another quick dizzy spell made me frown. Definitely too much champagne—I seldom drank and it went right to my head when I did indulge.
After half an hour, Kip and Randa joined us. Time to face the music and figure out how to tell them that their father had made an ass of himself. They’d hear about it from their friends, and I wanted to give them the facts before the rumor mill hit with a vengeance.
SATURDAY BROUGHT MORE sunshine and a surprise transformation. Randa had gussied up for my bridal shower. She was dressed in a floral sundress, and shock of shocks, she was wearing makeup. A pale sparkle of ivory highlighted her eyes, and a thin sheen of pink gloss shimmered on her lips.
“Honey, you look gorgeous!” I broke into a smile and was suddenly aware that her sundress complemented my own forest green one. I’d decided to go for simple yet elegant, and paired the afternoon frock with jeweled sandals and Rose’s crystal necklace, which I’d decided to wear every day until the wedding. Like a good luck charm. As I started to fasten it, I hesitated. Maybe the gold chain would be better? But Rose’s feelings would be hurt. I shook my head and finished getting ready.
She blushed. “Well, you know Great-Grandma and Gramms are going to be taking pictures. I thought it might be nice if we matched.”
I pulled her to my side and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. Let’s get moving. Your grandpa is taking Kip out to lunch and then they’re going shopping. They’ll meet us after the shower, and we’ll all drive out to Jimbo’s for the barbecue, so make sure you have your swimsuit with you.”
We were meeting at Murray’s house. As my maid of honor, it was her duty to throw my shower and I trusted her not to embarrass me with anything like a stripper or stupid party games. After the shower the menfolk would meet us, and we’d head out together to the barbecue.
Murray owned a huge old Victorian on Sunrise Avenue, next to the largest park in Chiqetaw. She had taken the fixer-upper from dump to divine over the six years that she’d owned it. The old house now sported a pale pink exterior with gingerbread trim in brilliant white. Flower boxes graced the windows and she’d painted them a brilliant crimson. They were filled with ferns and other perennials that provided a startling contrast to the red and pink.
“What’s that?” Randa asked as we climbed the steps to the front porch.
I glanced to where she was pointing. There was a large white envelope with the name ANNA typed on it sitting on one of the benches by the door. I picked it up. “Must be some mail that she dropped or something,” I said, though I noticed there was neither a stamp nor an address on the envelope.
As we entered the house, I steeled myself. I loved parties; however, coffee klatches and the like had never been my strong suit, even though I was able to pull off a high tea at the Chintz ’n China without blinking an eye. But I’d never been the guest of honor there, and here all focus would be on me.
I pulled Murray aside and gave her the envelope. “Here, we found this on the front porch. Listen, where are Sid and Nancy? Grandma M. will have a heart attack for real if one of them drops down on her.” Sid and Nancy were Murray’s boas, and at times they had free run of the house.
She grinned, opening the envelope to pull out a card. “Already thought of. They’re locked away in their tanks. But I think you’re underestimating her. She was tapping on the glass, talking to Sid a few minutes ago.”
I stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Grandma M. had a fit if she found cobwebs in the attic. But Mur wasn’t listening. She was staring at the card and she didn’t look happy. “What is it? Bad news?”
Paling, she shook her head and dropped the card on the desk. “Just something I didn’t want to see. I’d better go check on the hors d’oeuvres.”
As she disappeared into the kitchen, I wrestled with my conscience for all of fifteen seconds, then picked up the card and flipped it open. Something had been bothering Murray lately, and I didn’t like the pall that had come over her face when she read it.
The card itself had a simple but pretty pattern on the front, but inside, in the center, rested a square piece of paper smaller than the card itself. On the piece of paper were five words in block printing: I know you love me.
The back of my neck began to tingle and I slowly replaced the card on the desk, sorry I’d snooped. Jimbo hadn’t sent the card to her. I knew that without even having to ask. That begged the question: Who did?
And the answer was . . . none of my business, unless and until Murray decided to confide in me. Preoccupied by the thought that Mur had gotten herself into trouble of some sort, I joined the party.
By the time we were halfway through, I was ready to pack it up and go home. First, my mother and grandmother alternately took the opportunity to pass around embarrassing pictures of me from when I was a baby. At least they had the good graces to avoid any mention of my first bridal shower, which had been far more upscale and attended by a number of Roy’s friends from college. Even back then, he had exerted an influence over me as to who I should and shouldn’t hang out with.
The party theme was lingerie, and I received everything from demure silk pajamas from my Grandma M. to a racy Victoria’s Secret teddy from Harlow. Gift baskets of soaps and bath salts also abounded, and I grinned as I held up a crimson baby doll nightie.
“I think some of these gifts are more for Joe than for me,” I said.
“Yeah, but you’ll reap the benefits of his appreciation,” said Cinnamon, one of my employees at the shop. Over the past few years the younger woman and I’d become friends. And with that, we broke for cake and punch.
I’d just finished my second slice of cake when I noticed Rose pouring herself another glass of wine. I’d broken down and accepted a small glass, but after my champagne-induced vertigo from the night before, I was sticking to the fruit punch. Rose, however, looked like she’d tippled more than she could handle. She dropped onto the sofa and stared at the pile of boxes and bows.
“Why aren’t there any games? It’s not a shower until we dress you up in a toilet paper wedding dress!” She belched, giving me a ladylike “oh” of surprise.
“I don’t want any games,” I said. “I’m grateful Murray didn’t plan any. Can’t we just enjoy the afternoon together without any silliness?”
Rose leaned forward, waggling her finger. She tried to whisper but evidently her sense of hearing was as off as her equilibrium because her voice echoed in the large living room and conversation dropped to a dead silence when she said, “Speaking of Anna-banana, why on earth did you choose her to be your maid of honor? I’m your sister. You should have asked me.”
Murray glanced at me and I flushed, embarrassed. I bit my lip and made a drinking motion. Mur nodded and headed into the kitchen to make coffee. Everybody in the room had paused, but now they followed Murray’s lead and suddenly became busy again, chatting, eating, picking up crumpled paper and ribbons.
I turned to Rose and lowered my voice. “We hardly ever talk. You never come visit, and you never ask me to visit you. I had no idea you wanted to be my matron of honor.” I’d asked her, along with Harlow and Randa, to be one of my bridesmaids, never dreaming that she’d be jealous of Murray.
She sniffled—her equivalent of a sob—and placed her hand on her heart. “Well, it hurts.”