by Laura Durham
“I’ll second that,” Fern said, his voice garbled as he held a row of bobby pins between his lips. “I’ve rarely had to do the entire bridal party’s hair twice. Including the dog ring bearer.”
I shifted my eyes down to look at Hermès scampering around our feet in his tiny tuxedo. Fern had used a significant amount of hair product to get the dog’s fur into bouncy ringlets again, and I could smell the scent of Aveda wafting off him. Fern gave my hair a final pat and spritz of hairspray before stepping away.
“It’s not your record I’m concerned about.” Richard smoothed his tan suit jacket and flicked a glance at Fern, who had changed into a long black priest’s cassock with a gold sash and a shoulder cape topped with a massive gold cross. “It’s the men’s bald heads. The sun is so hot, they’re swiping my linen cocktail napkins from the bar and draping them over their cue balls.”
“What?” Kate put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh as she went to the tall windowpanes on either side of the door.
I followed her lead, peering out the other side window to see that several of the guests lounging on the vintage furniture wore linen hemstitched cocktail napkins as hats. I noticed that the women had taken the folding fans we’d tucked into baskets at the back of the ceremony area and were fanning themselves vigorously. I spotted Alexandra and her hat sitting near the front.
Richard let out a tortured sigh. “My Irish linen hemstitch are covered in head sweat. If only this was a Jewish wedding, and we had yarmulkes to offer the baldies.”
“If I remember correctly, this isn’t the first time this has happened to you,” I said, turning away from the window and toward Richard.
“It’s the first time it’s happened with my imported Irish linen.” Richard pursed his lips. “I’m going to have to hand launder them.”
“Maybe instead of cigarette girls, we should have sunscreen girls,” Kate said. “Or those misters like they have at the zoo, but instead of water, they mist out sunscreen.”
“Now that’s a clever idea, isn’t it, Sweetie Pie?” Leatrice said from where she stood at the back of the processional line. She’d changed out of her superhero bathrobe and into her wedding dress, a drop-waist ivory gown made of embroidered silk and organza that reached her ankles. Fern had done an admirable job of finding a dress that hid the fact that Leatrice had no discernable curves and an overabundance of loose skin. The illusion sleeves reached her wrists, covering up most of her age spots, and the sheer bodice came up to her neck.
Sweetie Pie gave her a weak smile. Even though he would be walking out before she did, Sidney Allen had refused to leave Leatrice’s side since we’d found out the man who’d forced his way into her apartment had escaped police custody.
“The good news is the sun is going down, so we’re already past the hottest part of the day,” I said.
“Tell that to the napkin heads,” Richard grumbled.
I looked over my shoulder and did a mental rundown of the processional lineup. We were still missing a few key people, but I tried to suppress my desire to panic. Going over the order in my head would calm me down. First would be the officiant, Fern, followed by Sidney Allen and his best man, Reese. Then Kate and I would walk, followed by Richard with Hermès ,the ring bearer, and Prue wheeling baby Merry in an old-fashioned pram adorned with flowers. Finally, Buster and Mack would escort Leatrice down the aisle, one on each arm. It would be charming and emotional, if only half the people weren’t MIA.
“We’re here,” Mack said, as he appeared from the staircase leading downstairs. “And we have the flowers.”
I let out a sigh of relief as I eyed the long white box in his arms.
“And I have the flower girl,” Buster said, walking behind holding Merry in his arms. The little girl wore a white dress and waved a floral head wreath that I knew would never actually sit on her head.
“You look great, Leatrice,” Prue said as she came up the stairs in a pretty yellow sundress that made her look even younger than she was.
Leatrice beamed and patted her hand. “Aren’t you a dear?”
Mack set down the box and began doling out bouquets. Leatrice squealed with delight when she saw her ivory teardrop bouquet with sprigs of blue hyacinth tucked between the roses and lilies.
I picked up the boutonnieres, took two, and handed the clear box to Kate. Years of practice had made both of us experts at pinning on flowers, and we quickly pinned Richard, Hermès, and Sidney Allen. I hesitated when I reached Buster and Mack.
“I don’t think I can get the pin through your leather,” I told them.
Mack winked at me as he dug around for a smaller flower box. “I made two with magnets.” He pulled out the blue hyacinth boutonnieres and showed me the magnet backs before snapping one on his leather jacket and one on Buster’s.
Part of me had hoped they’d lose the black leather for the wedding, but I noticed that they’d changed into their “good” leather, so I decided that was a win.
“I don’t suppose you know where the best man gallivanted off to?” Richard asked, his pointed gaze fixed on me.
“I’m guessing he’s doing something related to the guy who slipped out of police custody,” I said. “The last I saw he was talking to Hobbes and arranging for extra security for the wedding.”
“First a troupe of actors pretending to be wiseguys and now a security team?” Richard groaned. “What happened to the low-key, intimate wedding I was promised? ‘You won’t even feel like you’re working,’ you said. ‘It will be so simple, you can do it with your hands tied behind your back,’ I believe were your exact words.”
“Being tied up is still an option,” Kate said under her breath, looking away quickly when Richard shot daggers at her.
“Stick to beverage service, darling,” Richard drawled, letting his gaze linger on the robin’s-egg-blue suits that did make us look like stewardesses straight out of the fifties.
I took the bouquet of white flowers Mack handed me. “Be nice, everyone. This is a wedding, after all. We’re here to celebrate Leatrice and Sidney Allen.”
Fern unfurled a handkerchief from underneath his shoulder cape and blew his nose. “I can’t believe it’s finally here. I just hope I don’t lose it during the ceremony.”
“Me too,” I said. “Especially since you’re performing it.”
Fern’s head snapped up. “Good heavens, that’s right. I was so busy beautifying everyone, I almost forgot that part.”
“You do have the ceremony script, right?” I asked, realizing for the first time that he held no papers or portfolio from which to read.
“Don’t be silly.” He waved the handkerchief at me then tapped his temple. “It’s all up here.”
“Now can we admit this wedding is a disaster?” Richard muttered as he sidled up to me.
“Everything is going to be fine,” I said, more to reassure myself than to convince him. “Remember, none of the guests know that any of the changes aren’t what we intended all along. That, and no one is better at faking things than Fern.”
The hairstylist shoved the handkerchief into his pocket and took Leatrice’s hand. “What do you think about incorporating some Hindu elements into the ceremony?”
“I’m pretty sure they’d know that wasn’t what we intended,” Richard said.
Before I could tell Fern to stick to the nondenominational ceremony that didn’t require a small pyre, the front door to the house opened, and my fiancé stepped inside in his tuxedo ,followed by a man in a black suit who looked remarkably like him.
“Daniel!” Kate said, her face lighting up at the sight of Reese’s older brother.
“I guess this is the extra security,” Richard said, nodding appreciatively at the broad-shouldered man with dark hair shot through with gray at the temples.
Daniel Reese had been a cop and now ran his own private security firm. We’d met him when he’d been called in to provide extra muscle for one of my weddings, and he now made an appearance whenever my fiancé
needed help that fell outside the purview of the DC police department. He was almost as handsome as Reese, and seemed to have a special ability to make Kate forget her “never get attached” policy.
“Sorry I’m late,” Reese came up and put an arm around me.
I ran a hand down the smooth fabric of the black tux, thinking how good he looked all dressed up. “You’re forgiven.” I could see the worry in his eyes, even as he smiled at me. “I take it they haven’t found the guy yet.”
He shook his head. “They did get a positive ID on him, though. Turns out he’s Jimmy the Pencil’s nephew.”
“His own nephew was sent to kill him?” I asked, my voice louder than I’d intended.
Reese pulled me a few feet away as everyone swung their heads toward me. “I need to talk to Jimmy again. His nephew arrived in DC this morning with another man. I need to know if the other man is also a hit man. Where’s Jimmy now?”
“He should be outside waiting for the ceremony. Last time I checked he was on the ivory settee in the front.”
Reese took a few long steps to the window by the door. “He’s not there now.” He swiveled his head from side to side. “Found him. He’s with the band.”
“The band?” I joined him at the window. “We got a swing ensemble for dancing, but they aren’t supposed to play until later.”
Sure enough, Jimmy the Pencil stood next to a standing bass and a singer in a flapper dress. He held a microphone and seemed to be crooning away.
“Is that Sinatra?” Fern asked, cocking his head to one side.
“What else?” Reese asked.
“Do you think he could sing ‘It Had To Be You’ for me to walk down to?” Leatrice called from the back of the line.
I resisted the urge to run out the front door and never look back. “So much for him keeping a low profile.”
Chapter 12
“Great ceremony, doll,” one of the cigarette girls said to me as she leaned up against the brick wall of the house. “I’ve never seen one that fast before.”
I smiled at her as I held the door open so the rest of the wedding party could duck inside. It had been all of six minutes since we’d processed from the house’s foyer to the garden. I was pretty sure the processional had taken longer than the actual ceremony.
The last few notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” died out as I closed the door behind me, grateful to be back in the air conditioning, but startled that we were back in the foyer so soon.
I saw Leatrice still clutching Sidney Allen’s hand and looking a bit dazed. Sidney Allen looked as if he might pass out from the heat and his corset. I steered them both toward green cane-back chairs so they could sit.
“That’s it,” I plastered on a fake smile as I looked around and tried to find Fern. “You and Sidney Allen both said ‘I Do,’ right?”
Sidney Allen exchanged a glance with his bride. “I think so. It was a bit of a whirlwind.”
That was putting it mildly. We’d indeed processed down the aisle to Jimmy the Pencil singing “It Had To Be You,” and then Fern had welcomed everyone before launching into vows that sounded only vaguely like the traditional ones found in The Book of Common Prayer. I’d been preoccupied by my concern that Jimmy might wander off or that one of his Mob buddies might wander in, so I hadn’t been totally focused on the words of the ceremony. My attention had snapped back when I’d heard Fern compare marriage to a sale at Neiman’s, but then he was pronouncing Leatrice and Sidney Allen man and wife, and we were all walking back down the aisle.
I spotted Fern and hurried over to him. “What was that?”
He took a small step back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am ceremony. Did you even ask them what you were supposed to ask to make it legal?”
He swatted a hand at me. “Of course it’s legal. I am an ordained minister, Annabelle.”
“By the internet,” I said. “Hermès could get ordained online.”
Fern giggled. “Now there’s an idea. The Reverend Hermès Gerard. Ooo—he sounds like a proper Anglican priest. Wouldn’t it be fun if I did joint ceremonies with the dog? I’ll bet there are people who’d pay good money for that.”
No people I wanted to meet, I thought as I spun around looking for Reese. We’d walked back down the aisle together, but he’d peeled off before we got to the house. I suspected he was having that conversation with Jimmy about why his own nephew was trying to kill him.
“I can’t believe it,” Richard said as he walked up and stared at his watch. “We’re back on schedule.”
“Not a huge shock since I allotted thirty minutes for the ceremony, and we blew through it in six.”
Richard craned his neck and frowned. “I’ll bet my waiters are still filling champagne glasses.” He sighed and handed Hermès to me. “I’ll have to get drinks for the bride and groom myself.”
Hermès and I watched him flounce out the door and head for the bar tucked under the large shade tree. Most of the guests were wisely standing under the leafy boughs of the tree, either waiting in line for a drink or just avoiding the sun.
Reese and his brother stood with Jimmy off to the side near the claw-foot bathtub filled with ice and bottled drinks. As they were talking, Detective Hobbes joined them. I noticed that he’d changed out of the frumpy suit he’d been wearing earlier and now wore an equally shapeless, but less wrinkled, dark suit.
“Ready for photos?” Kate asked. She looked unfazed by the heat and sun, her hair still smooth and held in place by a pair of butterflies, and her makeup flawless.
I dabbed at the sweat on my upper lip and shifted Hermès to my other arm. “Are we still doing them outside?”
“Outside is prettier than inside,” she said. “Not to mention there’s better light out there.”
I knew she was right, but I hated leaving the comfort of the climate-controlled house. It also felt very strange to be on the other side of things. Usually at this point in a wedding, Kate and I were gathering items from the ceremony, putting final touches on the ballroom, and ensuring the bridal party had drinks for photos. It was also the time we took a quick breather after the hustle and bustle of getting the bride up and down the aisle. We chugged a soda, wolfed down an energy bar, and kicked off our shoes, if even for half an hour.
“No rest for the bridesmaids,” Kate said, reading my mind as we herded the bridal party outside.
“Remind me not to be a bridesmaid again,” I said, making sure I was out of earshot of Leatrice.
“What about being a bride?”
I suppressed a groan. “If this day is any indication of what I have to look forward to, I’m giving serious consideration to eloping.”
“That’s fine,” Kate said as we walked up the brick path. “As long as you take all of us with you.”
I didn’t point out that taking a dozen people with me would defeat the purpose of eloping. As I looked around at our motley crew lining up in front of the stone alcove for photos, I couldn’t imagine getting married without any of them. I glanced down at Hermès, his tiny pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. Even the dog. I also couldn’t imagine going through a wedding day as a bride.
“First we’ll take a photo with the entire wedding party, and then we’ll remove people for various groupings,” the photographer said, swinging her sable-brown ponytail from side to side as she addressed everyone. She arranged Buster and Mack on either side of the newlyweds, taking great efforts to have them stand at an angle so she could fit everyone into the frame. “Can I have the flower girl and her attendant as well as the ring bearer duo?”
I hoped Richard never heard himself referred to as one half of a ring bearer duo, I thought as I waved both him and my fiancé over.
Richard carried a round silver tray of waters and champagne with him, which he set on a nearby armchair. “I hope we can make this fast. I still need to talk to the kitchen.”
“I hope those are for us,” Kate said, eyeing the drinks.
“I am in serious need of a cocktail.”
For once, I couldn’t agree more. I handed Hermès off to Richard as the photographer directed him to stand next to me and moved Kate to the other side next to Fern.
“How did it go with Jimmy?” I asked Reese when he slid in place on the other side of me.
He put an arm around my waist. “Strange. Jimmy insists the man couldn’t have been his nephew. Says his nephew isn’t old enough to hold a gun.”
“So the ID was wrong?” I asked, facing forward for the camera.
Reese shrugged then smiled as the photographer told us to hold the pose. “Or Jimmy was lying.”
“Why would he lie?” I shifted my weight and angled one leg in front of the other, tilting my chin out and down to be sure I didn’t have a double chin in the photos.
“Another big smile,” the photographer called out as she stood on a chair and clicked away.
“Who knows? We don’t really know anything about this guy except what Leatrice told us, and she hasn’t laid eyes on him in over sixty years. For all we know, Jimmy could still be in tight with the Mob, and this is all a ploy to get to Leatrice.”
“After all this time?” I asked. “The Mob boss she jilted is supposed to be dead.”
“Now lean in closer to each other,” the photographer said as we all shimmied closer.
“So he says.” Reese’s mouth was so close to my ear that his words sent shivers down my spine. “Hobbes is running a check on that and on Jimmy before we get any deeper into this.”
My pulse quickened from my fiancé being pressed up so close to me. I couldn’t manage to get out any intelligible words.
“Have I mentioned how pretty you look?” Reese asked, his voice a deep purr. “I don’t even mind Fern’s crazy butterflies.”
I cleared my throat and hoped my knees wouldn’t buckle. We’d been living together for months, but his touch still made my legs turn to jelly. “Thanks. I like the way you look in a tux.”
“Yeah?” he said, with a chuckle. “Should I keep it to wear around the apartment?”