We found Adam’s mother in the kitchen with Jeremy. While she fussed over a bagel for Daniel, I took a deep breath and walked to Jeremy.
“Last night,” I began.
Jeremy rested his hands on my shoulders and quietly said, “Thank you so much.”
“For what?” I asked, shocked.
“For locking Martin in that closet. You’re my new best friend.”
“But Jeremy—”
“For God’s sake, Blaine, you were drunk. Do you think I’m going to hold that kiss against you? After all, think of the number of times I’ve kissed your boyfriend.”
“Do I have to? Wait; who said he’s my boyfriend?”
“Funny thing. I woke up this morning not deaf.”
“Oh,” I said, embarrassed.
He laughed at me and said, “Get something to eat. It’s going to be a long day.”
“I don’t want food,” I moaned.
“Hungover?” Aggie asked sympathetically. “I’ve got just the thing.”
She poured me a smoothie from the blender, and I had to admit it was exactly what I needed. I didn’t dare ask what was in it.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” Jeremy said. “We have a hospitality room set up at the hotel, and we’re shuttling the guests over in vans. We have three trailers set up behind the tents. One is for the bride and her attendants. I advise you all to stay as far away from it as possible. One is for the groom. That’s where you need to go, Blaine.”
“What’s the third one?” I asked, shuddering as I saw Daniel move on from his bagel to a banana that Aggie handed him.
“There are four hairdressers in it. Anyone in the wedding party, or any of the guests, can go there if they want to get more forties-looking hairstyles.”
“What a great idea,” I commented.
“Thanks. It was mine,” Jeremy said.
Aggie added, “Cater waiters are mingling with trays of juices and coffee, and there’s a bar set up if anyone wants mimosas, bellinis, or Bloody Marys.”
“Except you,” Daniel and Jeremy said to me in unison. They laughed as I dropped my head.
“If you see anything suspicious,” Jeremy went on, “all the security guys look like Secret Service agents. In other words, their suits are modern and navy and they’re wearing the standard sunglasses. Any person who acts like a reporter or who has a camera should be wearing passes like this.” He held one up. “I doubt that anyone can get through Adam’s security, but you never know.”
“Seems like overkill to me,” Aggie said.
“There will be several celebrities here, Aggie,” Jeremy said. “Not to mention a few closet cases. Sheila and Josh want their guests to feel at ease, and nobody wants to see pictures of the bride on tabloid covers.”
“Is the briefing over?” I asked. “You’re starting to scare me. It’s like the beginning of The Godfather.”
Jeremy and Daniel exchanged a look and, again in unison, croaked their Marlon Brando impressions: What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?
“Freaking actors,” I muttered and heard them laughing as I stepped out the back door. I nearly tripped over Blythe, who was sitting cross-legged on the deck, drawing furiously in a sketch book. “What are you doing?”
She shifted so I could see that she was sketching a group of people standing about twenty yards from us. I sat down on the top step, marveling that for once, her brown hair was stripped of its magenta streaks and combed down into something resembling a bob, which I guessed was about as forties as she could get.
“It’s a wedding gift that Adam and I are working on,” she explained, flipping through a few pages so I could see some other sketches.
“It looks like a storyboard.”
“Exactly,” she said. “We’re doing a Web site that makes it seem like this whole event was a movie. Look out there. Doesn’t it look like a set from sixty years ago?”
She was right. I could see members of the orchestra in white dinner jackets heading for the reception tent. The guests who’d already arrived were dressed, as requested, in forties attire. I saw more than one World War II uniform and figured the folks from Wisconsin, at least, had been digging in their attics. The few cars that were allowed onto the property were leases from a company that specialized in vintage cars. It really did look like the first Godfather movie.
“It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?” I asked.
“It’s wonderful. Sheila is so smart. Being in costume equalizes everyone. The celebrities are indistinguishable from her other friends and family. That’ll make everyone more comfortable. Now go away. I’m working, and Josh probably needs you.”
I tried not to do a double take as I saw Faizah, who looked nothing like a bruise, holding a bellini while she laughed with Tina Fey and Sandra Bernhard. I wished I could hear that conversation, but I resisted the urge and headed for the trailers. I didn’t heed Jeremy’s warning, however, choosing to go first to Sheila’s trailer, where I found her standing in a white silk robe amid a maelstrom of feminine chaos. Her expression was pure panic when she heard the door open, but once she saw me, she relaxed.
“I was afraid you were my mother,” she said. “I can’t handle any more accidents.”
“Blaine Dunhill, you get out of here,” Patti ordered.
I returned the disapproving stares I was getting from her and Gretchen and asked, “Why is Faizah the only one dressed?”
“Because I forgot to get something borrowed,” Sheila explained, dropping her robe so that I saw her in all her lingeried glory. “We sent her on a mission to find something, and she never came back.”
“She’s drinking and yakking up your guests,” I said. “Probably soliciting votes for Election 2008.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, tucking it into the top of her white bustier. “I expect to get that back. I love you.”
“Thank you,” Sheila said, hugging me. “I love you, too.”
“Now go away,” Gretchen ordered. “You might be used to seeing Sheila half naked, but the rest of us would like a little privacy.”
I laughed as I stepped outside the door, remembering Gretchen in stirrups at the behest of “Dr. Gibb.”
“Good grief, we do all look like gangsters,” I said when I went inside Josh’s trailer. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have the rings?” Josh asked, and I patted my coat pocket with a nod.
“Is my mother being restrained somewhere?” Jake asked. “She’s giving Sheila fits.”
“Everything’s under control,” I promised.
“Why? Did you find another closet for Martin?” Jake asked.
“I’m sorry about last night,” I said. “Josh, what the hell are you doing to that tie?”
“I don’t know. I hate it,” Josh answered, ripping it off in frustration and hurling it across the trailer.
I retrieved it and put it around his neck, trying not to laugh at the wild look in his eyes. “Be still. Let me do it. Has anyone given you the facts-of-life talk?”
“Jo, Blair, Tootie, and Natalie are the only people who haven’t tried to traipse through here,” Josh muttered.
“But I might have seen Mrs. Garrett with George Clooney at the bar,” Jake said.
“Then they’re crashing. Call security,” Josh answered. “Ow, that’s too tight!”
“Much like Blaine was last night,” Jake said.
“I can’t tell you how gratifying it is that I’ve given you all a moment to celebrate over your General Foods Suisse Mocha in years to come.”
“He never forgets a product,” Daniel said as he joined us.
“But did you remember the rings?” Josh asked, panic returning to his eyes.
Jake turned away to hide his smile when I said, “They’re right here in my pocket. Do you want to see them?”
“No, I trust you,” Josh said. “Daniel looks better than I do.”
“Daniel looks better than everybody does,” I said. “It’s in his contract
.”
“What can I say; I’ve got a good agent. Who tied that tie?” Daniel asked, frowning at Josh.
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Josh groaned.
“It’s perfect,” Daniel said. I raised my hand, and he nodded knowingly. “You were always good at tying—”
“I don’t wanna know,” Jake begged.
“—ties,” Daniel finished. “Have you ever noticed that heterosexuals think of nothing but sex?”
“It’s how I stay in business,” I said. “Now about tonight, Josh.”
“I just want to get through this wedding,” Josh said. “Have you—”
“I’ve got the rings. Everything is fine.”
And it was. I was dazzled by the inside of the tent when I stood looking out from the altar. It had a gardenlike quality, the greenery twinkling with subtle white lights that duplicated the candles flickering on the altar. I leaned across Jake to say to Daniel, “This has sure changed since the rehearsal. It’s fantastic. You designed all this?”
“Yes,” Daniel said.
“Okay, let me fix this,” Jake said. He stepped back and moved Daniel next to me, then stood where Daniel had been.
“No,” Daniel said. “You’re Sheila’s brother. She wants you behind the best man.”
“If Sheila still has the capacity to notice anything, she’ll be thrilled to see the two of you standing side by side,” Jake argued. “Plus this means you’ll be escorting Gretchen back down the aisle, Daniel, which seems right. Haven’t you two been friends forever? And I’ll escort Patti, to try to redeem myself.”
“Redeem yourself?” Daniel asked.
“Christmas pageant. Fifth grade,” I said.
“Patti was only in the second grade,” Jake said. “I was supposed to walk her off the stage. I tripped and pulled her down with me. Knocked out both of her front teeth.”
“Ouch,” Daniel said.
“They were just baby teeth,” Jake defended himself.
Daniel’s shoulder pressed against mine as we both looked out at the guests. I saw his sisters sitting in a row next to his parents and smiled at them. Mary Kate wasn’t looking. Gwendy pretended not to see me. And Lydia waved frantically.
“Your sisters look so pretty,” I said.
“Promise me you’ll dance with Lydia. She’s been bitching at me about you for seven months. Tell her I’m not a monster.”
Grandparents were escorted to their seats while the woodwind quintet—friends of Nora Meyers—played. As I scanned the guests, I let out a little grunt of dismay.
“You don’t have them, do you?” Josh spoke the first words I’d heard out of him since we gathered on the altar.
“Josh, I swear I have the rings,” I said. I turned my head toward Daniel and said, “Two o’clock. Sixth row. The couple that looks like they have pokers up their asses? My parents.”
I didn’t know why I was surprised to see them. Not only had my father and William Meyers done business together for years, but our mothers were friends, too. Neither of them was looking at me. They were watching Gretchen walk up the aisle. If they only knew she was carrying their grandchild.
I’d had my doubts about how the bridesmaids would look in different outfits that could have been clashing shades of purple, but somehow it worked. Gretchen had worried needlessly. She not only looked trim, but I was going to get a lot of leverage out of lipstick lesbian jokes. When she took her place across from Daniel, I heard him tell her that she was beautiful. It was the first time I’d ever seen her blush.
Her eyes moved to me and a flicker of understanding passed between us. Sydney could do her worst with her hateful tongue. Whatever rituals the straight world denied us, not only did we have bonds of friendship most of them would never understand, but Gretchen and I shared something no one could take away from us. The tension I’d felt since seeing my parents melted. I was standing next to the man I loved, and the mother of my child was smiling at both of us.
There was a stir as Faizah came up the aisle. Even if years of runway work hadn’t taught her how to command attention, her height was imposing. As she took her place across from me, she said, “If this was really the forties, Faizah would be in the kitchen wearing an apron.”
Josh’s nervous guffaw was cut off as we saw Sheila move to the doorway between her parents. We all held our breath as they glided under the ceiling fans with their crystal fixtures, probably expecting the curse of Nora to bring the tent down on us.
“I think I’m going to cry,” Daniel said, looking at Sheila.
I had tears in my eyes, too. She had all the glamour of Rita Hayworth and the other pinup girls of a bygone era. Her dress was tightly sleek, making the most of her slender, leggy beauty. Once she had left her parents and joined us at the altar, she hugged each of her bridesmaids, then turned to us. I wasn’t sure what she said to Jake, but I heard her whisper to Daniel, “You made up, didn’t you?” After he nodded, she turned to me with that dazzling, million-dollar overbite and said, “That’s the best wedding present I’ve gotten.”
Then she was Josh’s. Vows were repeated, rings were exchanged—I’d never been as happy to get rid of anything—then came the kiss that meant we’d done it. More than a year of planning had finally ended, and it was time to relax. Once the guests had been ushered from the wedding tent to the reception tent, we were brought back in for the pictures, all of us giddy with relief that it was over without any disasters.
Sheila had chosen not to have a receiving line since there were too many guests, so I mingled, making contact with editors from various fashion magazines I’d worked with on ad campaigns. Wherever we were, Daniel and I occasionally caught each other’s eyes before we moved on. As night fell, I stored away mental snapshots to talk about with him later. Josh and Sheila dancing. People laughing appreciatively at my toast, although I couldn’t remember a word I’d said. Blythe and Kate Hudson giggling hysterically about something. Models watching enviously as people stuffed themselves in that good old Midwestern way. Sheila laughingly switching partners with Rebecca Stamos, since people often confused the two supermodels. Gretchen and Gwendy Stephenson engaging in a deep discussion which I suspected was political and steered clear of.
My favorite moment came when I was standing next to a table of hors d’oeuvres. I’d just been listening to Frank and Lillith comment on the unusual assortment of friends Sheila and Josh had made over the years while I watched Mr. T pluck something from a silver platter.
“I pity the fool,” Faizah said, sweeping down on him, “who takes Faizah’s last mushroom cap.”
He handed it over and she popped it in her mouth with an ecstatic expression. I was still laughing when Lydia Stephenson appeared before me.
“I was told you were going to dance with me,” Daniel’s youngest sister said.
“I’d love to.” We moved onto the dance floor while the orchestra played “Sentimental Journey.”
“This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to,” Lydia said. “Is it always like this with the rich and—oh, my god, I love Garbage.”
“Good. You can help clean up later,” I said.
“No, silly. That’s Shirley Manson over there! She sings with the band Garbage.”
“Oh,” I said, chastened.
As we drifted close to an opening in the tent, I heard her say, “Now!”
An arm reached in and pulled me outside. Daniel embraced me and continued the dance Lydia had started.
“So sneaky,” I said with admiration.
“It’s private, and the song is perfect. You are my sentimental journey home. I love you, Blaine.”
“I love you, too, Daniel.”
We stayed together through two more slow songs, then he sighed and said, “I guess we have to go our separate ways again.”
“Only for a little while,” I reminded him, but neither of us let go for a long time. Finally we kissed, and I stepped inside the tent. I saw Sheila and Lydia standing together, so I walked to them.
&n
bsp; “Josh and I are about to change,” Sheila said. “May I have one last dance with our best man?”
We were quiet while we danced, until I finally said, “I can’t believe you’re the little girl I used to torment.”
“Don’t make me cry again,” she begged. “Thank you so much for everything you did to help Josh and me pull this together. I’m so happy, Blaine.”
“Good. Now give me back my twenty.” She threw her head back with a laugh and discreetly dug it out. After I put it in my pocket, I led her to Josh and asked if they needed any help. They assured me they’d gotten quite adept at getting each other in and out of clothes, and I watched as they left the tent without drawing undue attention to themselves.
“So help me, if you start crying, you’re going to see my hormones go into overdrive,” Gretchen warned from beside me. “I’d kill for a drink.”
“Feeling emotional, are you?” I asked.
“It’s this dress. I think it’s haunted.”
“After Sheila and Josh leave, the vans will continue to shuttle people out of here. Our little group will hang around, of course. If you need me to send someone to the hotel for a change of clothes—”
“No, I have what I came in. I’ll change after the happy couple is gone.”
It was a small group that settled around a few tables later while the cleaning crew came in and went to work under the unnecessary but determined supervision of Aggie Wilson and Joyce Stephenson. Even after Adam reminded us that we’d probably be more comfortable in his house, nobody moved. Like me, most of the guys had shucked their coats and ties. Adam and Jake flanked me at our table; Louis Stephenson and Hank Wilson were a few chairs down. I’d lost track of Daniel and Jeremy.
Martin stayed as far away from me as possible, which I appreciated. He sat next to Lillith at a table with Josh’s and Sheila’s parents. I shuddered to think what he might be saying, since now and then a burst of laughter came from their group. Once Gwendy sat down with them, I stopped worrying. She was a practical woman who would know how to stifle Martin should the need arise.
Aunt Jen went to the bride’s trailer with Blythe, Patti, and Gretchen so they could change into jeans and she could “make use of the facilities,” as she put it, having shunned the portable toilets. No one had seen Faizah for a while.
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