Label Me Proud

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Label Me Proud Page 7

by Stephie Walls


  “You’re an idiot if you’re not wrapping”—she waved her hand in a circle near my crotch—“that thing up.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to laugh at her inability to call my “thing” a penis or be irritated that she thought I was in danger of getting crotch rot. “Can we stick to the subject at hand?”

  “You’re right. You need to go stop him. Now. Oh God, Lee, if his parents find out…” She pushed at my side and tried to turn me toward the bathroom.

  “I’m not going in there. I refuse to sentence him to a life without parole with Felicity Holstein as his warden. Not going to happen—I don’t care if he ends up broke. At least he’ll be happy.”

  Worry marred her button nose and soft lips. “What if she is pregnant?”

  I leaned back against the wall, and then crossed my arms and my ankles. “She’s not.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do.”

  “You can’t possibly.”

  “Trust me.”

  Masyn jumped when the wood of the door cracked against the wall it had hit and halted any more discussion. Beau flew from the bathroom. His bow tie still hung loosely around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, the tails untucked from his pants. There were no crimson patches to be seen since his entire face and neck were the color of a freshly painted fire truck.

  “Beau, wait,” Felicity called after him just before she came into view. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her blue eyes were already bloodshot. If she were anyone else, I’d feel sorry for her. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain it to the lawyers. I can’t believe anything out of your mouth.”

  With each step he took, I worried about how explosive this might get. He undid each cuff link and stuffed them into his bulging pockets, and when Felicity caught up to him and tried to grab ahold of his arm, he jerked it away, nearly causing her to fall.

  Beau whirled around to face her, and her mother and Peyton rushed back into the hall. “I tried to be honest with you. I wasn’t telling you I never wanted to marry you; I just thought we needed more time.” He didn’t even attempt to keep his voice down. “For months, you’ve led me to believe you were pregnant, knowing all I’d lose. You even threatened me with the cost of the wedding and brought your mom into it. What is wrong with you? I loved you. I stuck up for you when everyone I know told me to break up with you, not to propose to you. And this is how you repay me? By trying to trap me and ruin my life?”

  “That’s not true, Beau. If you’d let me—”

  “Which part isn’t true? You certainly weren’t pregnant.” He pulled pregnancy tests out of both pockets and held them up, fanning them out like a deck of cards.

  She stuttered but didn’t have a comeback. Beau tossed one of the sticks at her. It bounced off her hand when she tried to catch it and landed on the floor. Then he turned around and spotted Mrs. Holstein and Peyton. With an eerie smile on his face, he chuckled and handed each one a stick like he was passing out cigars. “Peyton, I’m sorry you had to witness this. Mrs. Holstein, my lawyer will be in touch.”

  “Beau?” Masyn didn’t have the right words. And he didn’t need them.

  He took Masyn’s hand and faced me. “You got this?”

  I tossed him my keys and nodded. “Yeah, man. I got it.”

  And the two of them left with Felicity wailing in the background and a crowd gathered around us. I’d give anything to be walking out that door alongside my two best friends, but Beau needed me to deal with this fallout more than he needed my presence.

  And shit was about to get ugly.

  ***

  For someone who appeared composed at all times, Mrs. Holstein wasn’t maintaining her air of dignity all that well.

  “I hope you’re proud of yourself.” If hate were a tangible thing, I could hold hers—and choke the crap out of it.

  “Damn straight. I saved my best friend from the worst mistake of his life.”

  “He’ll never find another girl like Felicity.”

  “I sure as hell hope not. I don’t think I could deal with this shit twice.”

  “Who do you think you are? You’re nothing more than a backwoods—”

  Mrs. Chastain had an uncanny ability to materialize out of thin air. She was like a ninja, she moved so quietly. Although, with this level of chaos, a mariachi band could have made a surprise entrance. “Margaret. I’d suggest you stop right there with the insults. Lee didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I’m flabbergasted by you, Bev. Do you have any idea the shame and embarrassment your son has brought on us? There are hundreds of people who have flown in from out of state to be here today.”

  I stepped aside and let the ladies handle business. I wasn’t going anywhere, but Bev had this under control.

  “You don’t seem the least bit shocked by anything your daughter’s done, only that my son called her on it. Did you put her up to it? Maybe suggest it was a way to tie him down?”

  Appalled by the accusation, she gasped and dramatically drew back like she’d been slapped. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The hand still clutching the pregnancy test shot to her chest. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m flat out saying that you knew what your daughter was doing…and possibly even encouraged it.”

  “I’ve never been so insulted in all my life.”

  I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Lee, don’t be disrespectful.” Mrs. Chastain’s tone completely changed when she addressed me. It was as though she were talking to the ten-year-old standing in her kitchen after she’d caught us using her white table linens to make forts in the backyard. I hated when I disappointed her. “Why don’t you and Peyton find Cecilia.”

  The confused expression on my face must have told her that I didn’t have a clue who Cecilia was.

  “The wedding planner, dear. You two go find her and get a copy of the guest list.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll need to tell her there won’t be a wedding this afternoon. She needs to call the vendors and try to stop deliveries while you call guests.”

  “You can’t be serious about having him call off the wedding.” Mrs. Holstein was mortified at the thought, and that made me oddly happy.

  Mrs. Chastain ignored her and patted me on the arm. “Keep it short and vague. Let them know one of us will call them once things settle down.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Like I wanted to get into the details of a trifling girl with people I didn’t know, or worse, those I did.

  I extended my arm to Peyton, and together we set off to destroy Cecilia’s day. And when we found her and broke the news, she might have been as distraught as the bride.

  She clasped her hands in front of her and chewed on her lip. “This is every event planner’s worst nightmare. I’ve heard the horror stories, but I’ve never witnessed one firsthand.” Her gaze darted between Peyton and me. “Think, Cecilia.” If she weren’t careful, her teeth were going to separate her bottom lip from her face.

  Since she didn’t know what to do, I offered a little help. “Maybe you should call the vendors to cancel while we call the guests?”

  Cecilia clapped her hands, and a tiny grin played on her lips. “Yes. Yes. That’s perfect.” She raced over to her bag, where it sat on the steps by the altar, and grabbed her phone.

  “Cecilia?” Peyton’s voice cracked, and it dawned on me that she hadn’t said a word since all this had started.

  She already had her phone pressed to her ear. “Hmm?”

  “Where can we find a copy of the guest list?”

  Cecilia rambled on to some poor sap on the other end while rummaging through her stuff. She produced a crumpled set of papers and handed them off to us. With the shoo of her hand, she acted like she’d given us our tasks and we needed to leave her to her own. This wasn’t my goat rodeo—I was just a clown trying to distract the bull.

  P
eyton and I found a spot at the back of the church, sat in the pews, and divided the list in half. It would take hours to call all of these people, and within a few phone calls, we realized we would still have to tell many of them in person because we were unable to reach them. Others were insistent on coming to the church to help—I didn’t have a clue what they thought they were going to do. And the majority wanted more information than Peyton or I could or would share.

  “You have to know what happened, Lee. You’re his best friend.” Mrs. Corkle and her husband had lived next door to the Chastains all my life. They didn’t have children, but they thought nothing of scolding us like we belonged to them—even in our twenties.

  “Ma’am, I can’t tell you any more than I already have. Mrs. Chastain assured me she’d call you once things settled down.”

  “That’s malarkey. What did that girl do? Beau would never walk out on anyone, much less leave them at the altar.”

  I pinched the top of my nose and prayed God would have mercy on me. The hangover was bad—add nosey neighbors to it, and it was downright unbearable. “No one was left at the altar, Mrs. Corkle. The wedding wasn’t supposed to start until four, remember?”

  “Yes, I know. I’m already dressed and have the gift wrapped. Are you getting fresh with me, Lee Carter?”

  Beside me, Peyton giggled. Mrs. Corkle was nearly deaf, so I had to scream for her to hear me and she thought she had to yell back. With the phone six inches away from my head, it wasn’t hard to listen in.

  “No, Mrs. Corkle. Although, I am going to have to let you go so I can make more calls.”

  “Tell Beverly to come by when she gets home.”

  “Will do.”

  “All right then. Bye-bye.”

  I echoed the same words and hung up before she could reel me back in. “Shoot me now.”

  “You were really good with her.”

  “She’s old as the hills, but in her younger years, she didn’t hesitate to take a switch to me or Beau. Masyn never did anything wrong in Mrs. Corkle’s eyes—we ‘corrupted that sweet girl.’ Direct quote.”

  “I bet you three were a handful.”

  I leaned back in the pew. It wasn’t comfortable, and the wood was unforgiving. “Not really. We were good kids.”

  “What was it like growing up in a small town?”

  “I don’t have anything to compare it to. I’ve lived here my whole life—in the same house on the same street. I bought it from my dad when he moved to Atlanta. Beau’s and Masyn’s parents live in the same houses, too. I guess it was like every country song ever recorded—we drank from garden hoses, drove old trucks, fell in love…just life.”

  “You fell in love?” Her skepticism was duly noted.

  “I didn’t say I did all those things. Only that they happened.”

  Peyton cocked her head and a curl escaped from her hairdo. “I don’t take you for a relationship kind of guy.”

  “What kind of guy do you think I am?” I didn’t really care, but I was a tad intrigued.

  She shrugged and scanned my face, her gaze lingering on my lips before landing back on my eyes. “A heartbreaker.”

  “I guess that’s how small towns differ. When you grow up with people—literally from diapers to adulthood—you don’t really see them in a romantic light. You remember them picking their nose in kindergarten or peeing in their pants on the playground. And, don’t get me started on the gossip. Nothing is sacred. This town plays the worst game of telephone I’ve ever seen.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. Better than boarding schools and etiquette classes.”

  “You went to boarding school?” That sounded really isolated and cliché.

  “Starting in third grade.” And she sounded indifferent.

  “Guess it’s all relative, huh?”

  Before she could respond, Mrs. Chastain interrupted our conversation. “Lee, I know this is a lot to ask, and I’m sorry to do it to you. Ryland is meeting with our attorney, and they’ve asked for Beau and me to join them.” Damn, they hadn’t wasted any time getting that ball rolling. They’d pay out the nose for calling their lawyer in on a Saturday to deal with the Holsteins. “I realize you can’t possibly call all of the guests and won’t be able to reach everyone, either.”

  I thought I’d save her the trouble of making her case. “You want me to do damage control when they arrive?” I’d never say no, regardless of how much I didn’t want to do it.

  “I thought it would be nice if you and Peyton were here. You appear to be the only two who aren’t yelling at someone. That way, both families are represented.” Her image was important to her. She’d worked hard to develop and maintain relationships in our little community, and Mr. Chastain had done the same in the city with his business associates.

  She’d never let me down when I needed something, and I certainly wouldn’t do it to her—despite my belief that all of this could have been avoided. To say I was shocked that she’d let Beau take this hit was an understatement. I’d have lost my ass betting on that one. In the end, I had to believe she was just as flawed as the rest of us. Someday I might learn her reasoning, although I doubted it.

  “Of course,” I answered Mrs. Chastain’s request, and then I glanced at Peyton. “Do you mind?”

  She frowned and shook her head. “Not at all. Probably best for everyone involved to keep my parents as far away from here as possible.”

  “We will take care of it, Mrs. Chastain. I’m sorry this has all happened. I hope you believe me when I tell you, I had no idea it was going on. I’m terribly embarrassed by my sister’s behavior.” Either Peyton’s words were genuine—which I believed they were—or she was the best liar the world had ever seen.

  “It will all work out for the best in the end. It’s the middle that’s painful.” Another terse smile and quick sigh followed. “Thank you, both. I appreciate it.” She turned to Peyton. “If I don’t see you again, it was lovely to meet you.” Then she addressed me, starting with a hug and a pat on the arm. “I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I waited for her to exit the sanctuary and then I asked Peyton, “You ready to go face the firing squad?” We’d been making calls for what seemed like hours and hadn’t gotten through a quarter of the list. There were going to be tons of people arriving in the very near future.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. You’re a good friend, Lee.”

  “You’re a good sister.”

  She giggled a little too hard and snorted, which sent her into a fit of laughter that she tried to hide by covering her mouth. “Sorry. It’s just that Felicity and I can’t stand each other. So it’s odd to hear anyone say that.”

  Peyton came on a little strong when we first met, and I hadn’t been terribly interested in getting to know her based on her last name. Now it was clear to me that she was the black sheep of the family. “Her loss.” I meant it.

  The two of us, along with Cecilia—whom we hadn’t seen in ages—spent the next three mind-numbing hours talking to Beau and Felicity’s guests, assuring them that both bride and groom were well and that the families would reach out when things calmed down. It was like listening to a bad song on repeat. I’d never seen so many people get so defensive and protective. Guests of the bride wanted to lash out about Beau, and those on the groom’s side had nothing positive to say about Felicity. Sadly, Peyton and I couldn’t do anything to pacify them, and most left upset and some in tears.

  And I needed a drink.

  Chapter Six

  When Peyton and I exited, I realized I didn’t have transportation. Beau had ridden with me, and so had Masyn, so when they left the church, I gave him my keys. I could walk home if I had to, but doing so in a tuxedo would suck. It had to be in the nineties, and the sun was still shining brightly overhead, even as it started to set. Summer days lingered till nearly nine o’clock, and the heat never went away. I stopped on the steps and called Beau to see where they were.

 
“Hey, Lee,” Beau answered on the first ring, sounding better than he had this morning.

  “Where are you and Masyn?” I shielded my eyes from the early evening sun and scanned the streets. They weren’t likely to be nearby; I didn’t want to look like a moron talking on a cellphone while standing on the steps of an empty church in a tux.

  Peyton shifted her weight more than once, waiting to see if she needed to drop me off. Her continuous movement caught my attention, and I realized the shoes she had on must be strangling her feet.

  I twisted the phone away from my face and motioned to her heels. “Take ’em off.”

  “I’m meeting Masyn at Sadler’s. I just left the lawyer’s office. Where are you?” Beau kept talking, while I steadied Peyton’s arm so she could remove her shoes.

  “Just finished cleaning up your mess,” I answered into the phone, distracted by the neon-pink polish on Peyton’s toes.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. You need me to come get you?”

  Peyton shook her head, clearly having overheard the conversation I had with Beau.

  “Nah, Peyton said she’d drop me off. I assume Masyn still has my truck?”

  “Unless she sold it in the last couple of hours.”

  “You’re a huge help. Thanks, Beau.” He couldn’t see my face, but I was certain he heard the sarcasm in my voice.

  “Anytime. I’ll see you in a few.”

  I didn’t bother saying goodbye when I ended the call. “You sure you don’t mind giving me a ride?” I asked Peyton.

  Her heels now dangled at her side and the grimace of pain had vanished. “Not at all. It’s certainly better than what I’m going to face at the hotel.”

  It hadn’t dawned on me that when she left here, she’d still have her sister to contend with—not to mention her mother and father. “You want to come with me to Sadler’s? It’s a hole in the wall with cheap beer and greasy food. It reeks of cigarette smoke, and you can hardly hear yourself think over the jukebox and people playing pool.”

  “Well, with that kind of endorsement, how could I say no?” She laughed, and her blue eyes danced in the sunlight. “Any possibility we could stop somewhere to change clothes?”

 

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