DEAD AS a DOORNAIL
Page 21
“Duke, you’ve got to stay here all night.”
His head twisted left and right like he understood before he laid back down. It was even too hot for him to go out and run for his ball.
“I’ll leave extra kibble and water,” I called behind me when I walked down the hall to get the maid of honor’s dress and bonnet. Everyone was going to the wedding or I’d have gotten Mrs. Brown, my neighbor, to watch him. Or Jolee, or Finn, or even Mama. I was a little thankful for the bonnet. My honey brown hair was stick straight, but something about high humidity really put a crazy wave in it. And it wasn’t pretty like those beach waves those crazy tools did to the girl’s hair in those infomercials.
With my outfit for the wedding in my hand, I grabbed the little cosmetic bag filled with what little makeup I used, headed out the door, and a few minutes later pulled up to the back parking lot at the Cottonwood First Baptist Church.
“Thank God you’re here.” Tibbie Bell was sprawled out on a folding chair with her legs straight out in front of her and one of the wedding favor fans in her hand, vigorously waving it over her face. “I can’t take another minute in this hot weather.”
“This should go into your party-planning book.” I couldn’t help but notice she was glistening with sweat.
“What would that be, Kenni?” she asked with a sarcastic tone.
“Keep in mind the crazy weather in between seasons in Cottonwood.” I couldn’t help but smile knowing Polly had driven her over the edge. “I think a few years ago it was snowing on this exact same date.”
“Kenni, this is no time to talk about the past. It’s the here and now, and right now I think I want to string up our bride by her bra straps.” She fanned quicker.
“Oh no. What does she want you to do now? Sue Mother Nature?” I joked.
“Not funny.” She pointed the fan to the church. “Go on. Go in there and take a look.”
I shrugged and headed inside with the hanger flung over my shoulder. It was going to be a little uncomfortable with that big dress on in this heat, but I was bound and determined not to complain and keep the peace between me and Polly, at least until tomorrow.
“Kenni.” Polly’s shrill voice stabbed my ears. “Look at this.” She pointed to what I assumed was her cake. “The air conditioning is broken and the cake is melting. Look at the bride.” She pointed to the sugary figure on top that was distorted. “That’s supposed to be me.”
She broke out in tears.
I reached out with a reluctant pat on her back.
“Look at my hair.” Her words seethed with anger. “It’s falling out. All the Scarlett curls are falling out and Tina Bowers has no idea how to fix it. And this makeup.” There was a visible line that ran along her jaw. “It’s melting off my face. I hate the weather here!”
She stomped toward the door that led out to where Tibbie was still fanning herself and smacked them open.
“Tibbie Bell! You’re fired!” Polly screamed and headed back inside, disappearing into a room. She slammed the door.
Tibbie held up her hand and gave Polly a not-so-nice gesture and continued to fan herself.
There was only one person that could handle this, and it wasn’t me.
Toots Buford didn’t waste any time driving to the church from the time I called her. When I saw her 1965 pink VW bug pull into the church parking lot, the stress melted off of me.
“Where is she?” Toots hurried in with all sorts of bags hooked on her arms.
“She’s right in there. Toots.” I stopped her before she hurried in to rescue her best friend. I draped the maid of honor dress over her shoulder. “I think this is for you. Consider it my wedding gift to Polly.”
Toots’s bright red lips, that matched her bright red hair, drew up into a huge smile. She sent an air kiss my way before she disappeared into the dressing room to put her magical touch on her best friend.
“Move over,” I instructed Mama once the organist started to play the song the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle to.
She looked at me with a horrified look on her face.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered and made her scooch some more to make room for Finn. “Polly exchanged me for Toots. It’s all good.”
Mama wasn’t about to throw a hissy fit right there in front of everyone. She and Daddy scooted down, making enough room for me and Finn.
I had to admit the wedding was beautiful, especially now that I didn’t have to wear the green hoop dress. Preacher Bing had used the church’s emergency fund to call a heating and air conditioning contractor from Clay’s Ferry to fix the HVAC unit. Needless to say, there was nothing wrong with it. The weather had been so chilly last week, Preacher Bing had forgotten he’d turned off the air conditioning and when the HVAC mechanic flipped it back on, Preacher Bing simply said a prayer and asked me to keep it between us. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch.
The reception was everything Polly Parker Ryland wanted. It was Gone with the Wind on steroids. The entire inside of the reception hall looked like the movie set of Polly’s favorite movie, down to the green velvet curtains.
“I still can’t believe you are taking my baby to Chicago for Christmas.” Mama cried in her cocktail at the reception.
“Ignore her,” I instructed Finn. “Don’t look at her.”
“Kenni, why do you have to be so disrespectful?” she asked.
“Ladies, all the single ladies,” the smarmy voice of the DJ called out. “It’s that special time of throwing the bouquet.”
“Get up there right now.” Mama pointed to the front where Polly was twirling her bouquet around her head. “You’re already breaking my heart about Christmas. Just act like you want me to be happy.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and pushed back my chair.
As soon as I stood up, it was just like the other wedding when I planned in my head how I’d keep my hands to my side and not participate. The bouquet went flying in the air. The single ladies in front of Polly stopped jumping when they realized the flowers had passed over their head and they turned around, watching as it went into a free fall, hitting me smack dab in the forehead and falling on the floor next to my feet.
“Your parents are going to love my Kendrick.” Mama’s voice oozed with happiness.
About the Author
Tonya has written over twenty novels and four novellas, all of which have graced numerous bestseller lists including USA Today. Best known for stories charged with emotion and humor, and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband, three teenage boys, two very spoiled schnauzers and one ex-stray cat in Kentucky.
The Kenni Lowry Mystery Series
by Tonya Kappes
FIXIN’ TO DIE (#1)
SOUTHERN FRIED (#2)
AX TO GRIND (#3)
SIX FEET UNDER (#4)
DEAD AS A DOORNAIL (#5)
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