The Game of Denial

by Brenda Adcock

  "What he said made sense," Evey said. "I mean a wedding is supposed to be a happy event and small problems that may come up during the ceremony shouldn't detract from that."

  "I couldn't agree more. All that really matters is the end result. I think this ceremony will be wonderful."

  Light conversation filled the rest of the dinner and was followed by a short series of toasts to the bride and groom and to their parents. Joan was glad she had consumed a filling meal before the toasts began. Regardless, the myriad of events that had taken place during the day had left her feeling tired. More than once she had to suppress a yawn. The only thing that had kept her awake throughout the meal was the feel of Evey's leg brushing against the side of her thigh when she turned to speak to someone. Joan wondered if everyone else in the room was feeling a little warm. Finally Chris announced that it was time for the ladies and children to depart. The bachelor party would soon be under way. He promised the party wouldn't go on too long and that Brad, Tully, and Tucker would return to the farm relatively sober and before dawn. Joan was surprised when Luella invited Anita and Claudine to her room for a more sedate party of their own.

  After everyone agreed who would be in which vehicle and which one would be left behind for Brad, Tully, and Tucker, hugs and kisses were exchanged. Joan was halfway through the lobby when she excused herself and promised to join them in a moment. She walked back to the dining room and found Anita.

  "Whatcha need, Joan?" Anita asked when she joined her in the hallway.

  "You don't have to do this, Anita, but I would appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on Mother and not let her stay up too late," Joan said.

  Anita waved her hand in the air between them. "I got it all under control," she said. "She can be a little ornery, but she don't mean half of what she says. Personally, I think she's afraid."

  "Of what?"

  "Losing control. Even when she's not, she needs to think she is. Then everything will be okey dokey. Running the company's getting to be too much for her, bless her heart. We'll have to find her a new job."

  "Ron's lucky to have you, Anita. Too bad it took him so long."

  "Ain't that the truth," Anita said. "But it's never too late to be happy."

  Satisfied that Luella was in good hands, Joan walked back into the lobby. Before she could get through the front doors of the hotel, she heard someone call her name. She glanced around and saw Monica standing in an alcove in the lobby. Monica's hair was pulled back and held in place near her temples with tortoiseshell clips. Joan noticed that her dress hugged her figure in all the right places. A French-tipped finger motioned Joan toward the shadowed alcove.

  "Aren't you going to wish me a good night too, Joan?" Monica asked.

  Joan paused before answering and finally nodded. "Good night, Monica," she said. "Rest well."

  Monica used the same finger to slowly draw a line down the front of Joan's blouse, hesitating when it moved between her breasts. "I'd rest much better if you stayed in town with me tonight," she said.

  "While that sounds like a delightful offer, I need to actually rest tonight."

  Monica ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. "I promise to let you sleep...eventually."

  Joan exhaled loudly in frustration. She narrowed her eyes and made sure she had the redhead's attention. "There are probably many women out there somewhere who would be more than willing to crawl into your undies, Monica, but I am not one of them."

  JOAN WAS SO tangled up with Monica that she didn't see or hear Evey re-enter the hotel. Evey heard Joan's voice and knew she should have turned around and left. But curiosity was more than she could stand. When she heard Joan use Monica's name she ducked into an antique phone booth that served as part of the lobby's décor and pressed her body against its back wall.

  "I don't understand you, Joan," Monica said. "Would it be so horrible to be with me? You know I would give you anything you wanted. I've waited a long time for you. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

  Evey's blood boiled at the sound of what might have been the rustling of material, accompanied by heavier breathing. Maybe she should make her presence known and save Joan from the clutches of the attractive and manipulative seductress. Then Monica made a fatal error.

  "Let me make you forget Martine for just one night," Monica said as her lips grazed near Joan's ear.

  Joan pushed Monica away. "I've already had the best and nothing you do can top that, honey." She whirled around and started to leave the lobby, then stopped and stepped toward Monica again. "And I'd appreciate it if you would stop these sophomoric come-ons before it becomes embarrassing to both of us."

  When Joan turned away the second time, Monica said, "You've found someone else, haven't you?"

  Joan stopped and Evey held her breath, praying Joan wouldn't turn in her direction. The power of prayer failed again as Joan turned her head to face Monica. She saw Evey pressed into the old phone booth and paused for a split second as their eyes met.

  "What did you say?" Joan asked.

  "I said you've found someone else to care for."

  With her eyes still locked on Evey's, Joan said, "There is someone I've come to care about very much."

  "I knew it!" Monica stepped out of the alcove and grabbed Joan's arm. "It's that blonde." Suddenly Monica released Joan's arm and backed away, covering her mouth with her fingertips. "It's...it's Fran's mother-in-law. Oh, my God!"

  Joan closed her eyes, breaking the connection with Evey. Evey felt the muscles in her legs seem to dissolve as she struggled to remain standing. She was snapped back to reality by Monica's voice.

  Monica overcame her shock and rested a hand on Joan's shoulder. Evey watched Joan stiffen under the touch as Monica leaned closer. "You know where to find me after you get over this inconvenient infatuation. You know you can't have her because she's not like us and I've never known you to fight a battle that can't be won. Sleep well, darling."

  Joan pulled away and stalked out of the hotel. After she recovered her composure and was sure Monica was no longer in the lobby, Evey exited the hotel in time to see Joan get into Fran's car with Charmaine and Meg. Evey climbed into Beth's vehicle and leaned her head against the seat.

  "Tired?" Beth asked.

  "Drained," Evey answered.

  "I'll wake you when we get home," Beth said as she patted Evey's leg. "It'll all be over soon and we can return to normal again."

  Evey wondered if anything would ever be "˜normal' again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  JOAN MANAGED TO make it through the next morning and early afternoon without running into Evey. She didn't know what she'd say if she did. Evey had overheard at least part of her discussion with Monica the night before and when she was looking into Evey's eyes she knew she wouldn't believe her denial.

  The second floor of the Chase home had taken on a whole new identity since the previous day. Joan seemed to move through surreal scenes. Beth, Meg, and Charmaine were like hyper-driven gnomes, making sure everything was right and that Fran was perfect for the ceremony. Joan hadn't had breakfast or lunch. She refused to go downstairs to greet guests as they began arriving an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin. Other than accepting one or two cups of coffee that Charmaine foisted upon her, Joan didn't think she would ever eat again.

  In a rare move, Joan clasped her hands together and prayed. Not to any unknown entity, but to Martine. Martine would know what to do. She had always been the rock upon which their lives had been built. Strong, reasonable, impervious to doubts. Joan had never needed Martine more than she did now. She needed to feel that strength that had sustained her through her own crises. But, as with most prayers, no slap-you-in-face answers had come.

  JOAN TOOK A deep breath as she buttoned the top button of the stark white tuxedo shirt and inserted the ebony button inserts. She folded the cuff of each sleeve and matched the buttonholes before slipping a matching ebony cufflink in each sleeve. She tucked the shirt tail into the smooth, dove gray t
rousers and hooked the waist closure. The pants fell comfortably down her long legs, the hems leaving only a small fold as they draped over the tops of her shiny black slip-on shoes. She shrugged the tuxedo vest on, admiring the various gray tones that formed a light paisley design. She turned her shirt collar up and looped a solid dove gray silk tie around her neck, expertly creating a wide Windsor knot. She smiled as she adjusted the knot and folded the shirt collar down. She tucked the tie into the vest front, running her hand over the material, remembering the way Martine used to pat her on the chest when she finished adjusting Joan's tie. Oh, baby, she thought. I wish you could see Fran. She's such a beautiful woman. If she's half as happy as we were, her life will be blessed. Our life together ended too soon.

  Joan took a deep breath, slid the charcoal gray tuxedo coat up her arms, and drew it over her broad shoulders. Fran had insisted that no one see either Joan or herself until the actual ceremony began. No one, not even Joan had seen Fran's wedding dress. It had been sealed inside an opaque carrying bag when it was delivered two days earlier. Now, with the assistance of her bridesmaids, Fran was preparing for what would be one of the most memorable days in her young life.

  Joan went to her bedroom window overlooking the area that would be the site of the wedding. The weather was cool and refreshing with a hint of a breeze. She pulled back the curtain with the tips of her fingers and gazed down at the people gathering. She noticed heads occasionally turning, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bride. Joan looked over her shoulder at the clock hanging on the far wall. Not much time left. A knock at her bedroom door confirmed that it was almost time for Frannie to make her entrance. Joan pressed her hand against her nervous stomach to stop the fluttering she felt. She cleared her throat and walked to the door. Charmaine started to say something, but the words froze in her throat. She looked lovely in the apricot bridesmaid gown Fran had chosen.

  Finally Charmaine said, "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

  Joan cleared her throat again and swept a hand threw her hair, letting it fall casually back to her forehead. She reached out and brought Charmaine close against her for a hug. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart," she said.

  "You look freakin' hot and you smell divine. New perfume?"

  "I've been saving it for a special day like today."

  Meg rushed into the hallway and Joan stared at her. For the first time in months everything matched and Meg's hair was its natural light brown color. "Damn," Joan breathed. "I wish your Mama was here." She glanced at Charmaine. "Please tell me she's not wearing those hideous lime green flip-flops under that gown."

  "I checked. She's clean."

  Before they could say anything else, music wafted up the stairs, the signal that the guests should take their seats. "Showtime!" Meg announced. She looked at her mother and smiled. "You cleaned up good, Mom."

  "Thanks. You, too, dear."

  "Let's knock "˜em dead."

  Joan closed the door to her bedroom and walked to the room where Fran would be waiting. As she stood in the doorway, Fran was looking at herself in a large, free-standing beveled mirror while Beth placed a final sprig of baby's breath into a crown of flowers encircling her head. She turned slowly and Charmaine and Meg hurried to arrange the train of her wedding gown behind her. Joan entered the room and rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

  "Brad is a lucky man," Joan said. "You're beautiful."

  "Do you like the gown?"

  "It looks magnificent on you. Mama would be honored and crying a bucket of happy tears by now."

  Joan had recognized the gown immediately. She and Martine celebrated their union years before and Martine wore the same gown, although it had been slightly altered for Fran. Everything about it was soft and screamed femininity. The pearls and lace across the bodice were exquisite. A white train trailed behind Fran from her shoulders to the floor. Everything about the gown was simple, but elegant. Joan took the gold cross that hung around Fran's neck in her hand. She brought it to her lips and dropped a kiss on it before placing it back against Fran's throat. "You honor her in every way," Joan said with a brief hug. "We better go before I ruin your make-up."

  Beth flipped open a long box and handed Fran a bouquet of flowers that draped in front of her gown and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then Beth, Charmaine, and Meg stepped out of the room and led Joan and Fran down the staircase. One by one the three young women met with Chris, Tucker, and Tully to be escorted to the grove of trees that would serve as the setting for the ceremony. Then the sound of the music grew in intensity to announce the imminent arrival of the bride. Joan could hear the movement of chairs as the guests stood. She helped Fran down the stairs and smiled as her daughter took her left arm. Joan placed her hand on top of Fran's and they began their slow walk. They moved around a gentle curve in the walkway and into the sight of the guests. Joan heard soft gasps as the rows of people caught their first glimpse of Fran. Joan had never felt so proud. Brad beamed with happiness as Fran and Joan moved closer to where he waited. Joan shifted her eyes slightly to the right and felt her heart beat quicken when she saw Evey. There were tears in her eyes and she dabbed at them carefully.

  Joan was calm, but proud as Fran gripped her arm and no one could miss the look of love that passed between the mother and daughter as Joan escorted Fran down the aisle beneath the shaded grove of trees. Brad stepped forward and couldn't take his eyes off his bride.

  "Who gives this woman to be joined with this man?" Doctor Nagle asked loud enough to be heard.

  "I do," Joan said clearly. She took Fran's hand and kissed it before offering it to Brad. She moved back a step and slid to her left to join the rest of her family, casting a glance at Evey who was standing across the aisle. Nagle offered a brief, appropriate prayer and allowed the assembled guests to be seated.

  Later, Joan wouldn't remember much about the actual ceremony. It was mostly the usual things that were said at weddings, minus the obey part as requested. She spent most of her time looking at Fran and occasionally smiling across the aisle at Evey. She was startled when Luella patted her thigh and let her hand rest there most of the ceremony. Joan relaxed and covered Luella's hand with her own. Finally Brad and Fran were declared legally man and wife and Brad kissed his bride. The recessional music began and everyone stood again. Fran stopped to present Evey with a flower from her bouquet, along with a hug and kiss. Then she turned to repeat the gesture with Joan. After the bridesmaids and groomsmen went quickly down the aisle, Joan stepped across the aisle and offered her arm to Evey, who took it shyly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JOAN WAS SEMI-LOUNGING in a chair enjoying the festivities with a glass of wine, giving her feet a rest. Toasts had been made and Joan smiled as Brad and Fran stepped onto the small dance floor for the first dance. Halfway through other couples were invited to join them. Luella tapped Joan on the shoulder. "Dance with an old lady?" she asked.

  Joan nodded and escorted her mother onto the floor. The music was slow and romantic and Joan was careful not to attempt anything too fancy.

  "I'm not sure if this is appropriate or not, Joan, but you look incredibly handsome in this tuxedo," Luella smiled.

  "It's what all us dykes wear on special occasions, Ma," Joan said. Then she cleared her throat and added, "Martine selected it years ago for our ceremony. I'm surprised it still fits."

  "Charmaine tells me Fran's wedding gown was her...mother's."

  "Same ceremony, same gown. It makes Fran feel close to Martine. If it makes Fran happy that's all that matters to me."

  "You're a good parent, Joan."

  Joan gazed down at her mother and rasped out, "Thank you."

  Luella took a resigned sigh and added, "And so was your wife."

  When the music ended, Joan escorted Luella back to their table and bent down to give her a light kiss on the cheek before picking up her wine glass again. She needed a drink to keep from breaking down in a flood of tears. For the first time, in her own way, Luella
had finally acknowledged Martine and Joan's relationship for what it had been, a marriage. It may have been said in a moment of sentimentality, but Joan could live with that. Her head came up when she heard the beginning of "I've Had the Time My Life." Fran walked toward Joan and stopped at the edge of the dance floor and held out her hand. Tears gathered in Joan's eyes again as she paused a few moments before walking toward Fran. The song had been Martine's favorite. Joan wrapped her arm around Fran and held her close as they danced.

  "Thank you, sweetheart. I hope you have the time of your life for many years to come," Joan said. "We both love you so much."

  "I love you, Mom," Fran said. "Because of you and Mama I know what a marriage is supposed to be."

  As the tempo of the music grew, Joan led Fran flawlessly around the floor, noticing that other dancers had stopped and moved off the floor to watch them. When the music ended, Joan hugged her daughter fiercely and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

  EVEY WATCHED THE two women dance gracefully and knew the song must have a special meaning for them. For a moment she wondered once again what it would feel like to have Joan's arms around her. She picked up her glass of wine and swallowed it in three large gulps, shaking her head when she finished.

  As the evening progressed Joan danced with Charmaine, Meg, and her grandchildren as well. Each dance was followed by another glass of wine on the warm evening. Evey was talking with Millie and Harlan Grisham when her attention was drawn back to the dance floor as Millie raised an eyebrow. Joan was dancing with Monica Ashford and holding her close to her body while Monica appeared to be whispering to her. The music was a slow pace and Monica seemed to be taking advantage of it. She unbuttoned Joan's tuxedo jacket and vest and slid her hand inside and around Joan's waist. Joan laughed at something Monica said before bringing her face against Joan's neck. Evey felt a twinge of jealousy and frowned. Monica Ashford had been blatantly pursuing Joan since her arrival. There seemed to be a double meaning to everything she said to the quiet woman. When the dance ended, Joan stepped away from Monica and re-buttoned her jacket. Evey saw Monica's lower lip protrude slightly as if she were pouting.