Ade and Owen nodded. “Absolutely.”
“What does it say?” my father asked.
I cleared my throat and grinned. “They want me to be their baby’s godmother.”
TWENTY-THREE
THE next morning, I turned over in one of the twin beds in the guest room and looked at Ade, who was still asleep in the other bed. The bride-to-be was curled on her side, her mouth open, drool making its way down her chin. Her hair had tangled itself into such a Medusa-like mess that I decided to force her into the shower the second she woke up; if she got a look at herself in a mirror, she’d start her wedding day by freaking out.
The ceremony was at four o’clock, and it was already nine thirty. How had we slept so late? I could hear dishes clattering downstairs, and I knew that the household must be bustling with wedding preparations.
Ade snorted and woke herself up. “I’m getting married today, aren’t I?” she said, stretching her arms.
“That’s the plan.” I got up and sat on the edge of her bed.
She rubbed her belly. “Baby, how about you move that elbow off of my bladder, okay? It’s quite annoying.”
“Can I feel?”
Ade nodded. “Go ahead. The baby doesn’t move around as much now because it’s so squished in there, but you can feel a knee. Right here.” She placed my hand on the side of her stomach, and I felt something hard against my hand. “At least I think it’s a knee. Might be some other body part, but there is definitely something pushing on my bladder, too.”
“I know this sounds ridiculous, but I cannot believe that there’s a little person in there. Right there!” I leaned in and whispered to her stomach. “Baby, it’s Auntie Chloe here. Please move around so that your mommy doesn’t spend the day needing to pee. Okay?”
We waited silently, hoping that the baby might actually respond to the request. Ade shook her head. “Nothing. This kid isn’t budging. Maybe after I get up and walk around. Help me up.”
By rolling and pushing, I got Ade out of bed. Then I walked her to the bathroom and got her into the shower without giving her the opportunity to see herself in the mirror. “I’ll go get you some breakfast, okay?”
“That would be great. After that, we should get started on our hair. That’s top priority, so we don’t run out of time later.”
“Gotcha.” I tossed on my overpriced but adorable Juicy hoodie and pants, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and headed downstairs to the kitchen to see what I could find to feed Adrianna. With all the wedding food in the house, I wondered whether there were any breakfast possibilities at all.
Josh was already in the kitchen. With him were the cousin of Emilio’s I’d met yesterday at the nursery and another dark-haired guy who looked so much like the first that he had to be a relative. Both of Josh’s assistants were busy slicing their way through a mountain of vegetables. Josh himself was buried in the fridge, pulling out one container after another. “Morning, beautiful!” he chirped.
“You’re hard at work already, huh?”
“Yup. This is Alfonso and Héctor, Emilio’s cousins, who are helping me with everything.”
I waved at the two cousins, and both smiled warmly at me. I was glad that Josh spoke Spanish—or at least spoke what he called “kitchen Spanish,” enough of the language to communicate his culinary needs. “I met one of them, Alfonso, when I was picking up all those plants for my mother, but I didn’t get his name. So Emilio is here, too, I assume?” Not that I was itching to have Josh and Emilio in the same room.
“Apparently, but I haven’t run into him yet. He might be out in the tent helping rearrange the six thousand plants and setting things up outside.”
I grabbed a box of cereal, a gallon of milk, and some bowls and spoons and headed back upstairs to deliver breakfast to the bride.
“Chloe, you’re up. Is Adrianna awake, too?” My mother stopped me as I was starting up the staircase.
“She’s in the shower. She wants to do our hair as soon as possible. Sound good? Is everything going all right so far?”
“Mostly. I had to send Emilio to go pick up the flowers. The store messed things up. He should be back within an hour. Other than that, I think we’re on track.”
“Where’s Dad?” By now, my mother must have put him to work.
“Oh . . . um . . .”
“Dad,” I said. “My father. Your husband. Jack. The man who burns chicken.”
“Chloe, I know who Jack is. He’s around somewhere. Don’t worry about him. Just tell me when Adrianna is ready for me.”
Since Ade was still in the shower, I left the breakfast supplies on the dresser and made the beds. When I went back downstairs, Robin and Nelson were quarreling in the living room. “That film belongs to me, Nelson!” Robin was glaring at her cameraman. “You weren’t supposed to make a copy of it. The police were the only ones who should’ve seen it.” Robin’s dark hair was yanked tightly off her face, and her beady eyes were bulging in anger.
“The camera belongs to me, and you don’t need the film anyway,” Nelson shot back. “It’s not like the station is going to be airing the footage from that day, are they? Josh’s Chefly Yours episode was scrapped, so who cares?”
“Listen to me,” Robin snarled, “your job is to film the series. Since you filmed that episode for me, the film was and is mine, and since that footage obviously isn’t going to become part of the series, you shouldn’t have a copy.”
“That’s exactly why I have a copy, Ms. Director! It’s not part of your rip-off show, so I can keep it!” Nelson’s raised voice was echoing throughout the room.
The last thing Ade needed was to overhear a nasty argument. “Could you two keep it down, please?” I said sharply.
“Sorry,” said Robin, looking appropriately ashamed. “Look, we’d love to film Adrianna while she’s getting ready. Is she upstairs?”
“I really don’t think she’ll want you up there.” I certainly didn’t. On inspiration, I said, “Adrianna is a very private person. She’s thrilled that you’re going to film the wedding, but she’d rather you focus on food preparation than on . . . bride preparation. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and tape Josh while he’s cooking?”
“Perfect! Nelson, let’s go.”
Nelson raised his camera and aimed it at me. I sighed inwardly but said nothing to him as I led the pair back to the craziness of the kitchen. A glance told me that Nelson would practically be filming a crowd scene. Josh and Emilio’s cousins were still at work, Digger had arrived and was scraping out pumpkins for the baked pumpkin stew, and my mother was rushing around pointlessly moving platters from counter to counter and probably driving Josh bonkers. I just had to get her out of his way soon. But what really hit was the presence of an uncomfortable number of people who’d been around on the day of Francie’s murder: Josh and me, obviously, as well as Digger, Robin, and Nelson. And Willie and Evan would be here soon, too. How had Adrianna’s wedding turned into a reunion of homicide suspects?
“Does everyone know each other?” my mother asked. Without waiting for a response, she began introductions, each of which included a short bio. “Digger is the executive chef at a delightful tapas restaurant. He’s going to be Josh’s right-hand man today.”
Sweat glistened in Digger’s curly hairline. He gave a gruff “Yo!” to the room as he set a stainless-steel tray on a counter.
“And Robin.” My mother gestured to the cable-TV director, who was busy trying to get Nelson to move the camera off me. “Robin did a splendid piece on gardening a few years ago. She not only featured our landscaping business but also filmed part of that show at the nursery owned by Emilio’s family, the one where these two assistants work.” When Mom pointed at Emilio’s cousins, I noticed that Héctor was staring intently at Robin.
My mother continued her spiel. “Next is Alfonso, currently in charge of inventory and ordering at one of my favorite nurseries. He doesn’t speak English, so thank goodness we have Josh and Emilio here to translate. W
here is Emilio, by the way? He should’ve been back by now.”
As if on cue, Emilio entered the kitchen. “I’m here. Sorry that took so long.” He was holding an open box filled with flowers. I couldn’t wait to get a better look at the flowers. Ade had ordered deep orange roses for the bouquets. Even from across the kitchen, I could see how beautiful the color was.
“Oh, good,” my mother said. “Everyone, this is Emilio. Emilio, this is Robin, Nelson, and Digger. Of course, your cousins and Chloe you already know.”
When Emilio smiled at me, I did my best to remain cool as I smiled politely back. I wished Nelson would get that silly camera off me.
“And this is Josh Driscoll,” my mother said, pointing to Josh, who finally set down the knife he’d been using to slice mushrooms.
Josh wiped his hands on his apron. He looked up, ready to greet Emilio, but all of a sudden, his face hardened.
Emilio looked momentarily confused and then started to speak. “Oh. It’s you. We’ve, uh, we’ve actually met before—”
“That’s right. We have met before, you goddamn bastard!” Without warning, Josh rammed his way through the mob of people in the kitchen, reached Emilio, came to an abrupt halt, drew back a fist, and punched Emilio squarely in the jaw. The first punch was powerful, but before Emilio had a chance to recover from the blow, my chef socked him again. Hard. Emilio spun sideways, and as he fell to the ground, he dropped the flower box and sent the bouquets and boutonnieres flying everywhere.
I was flabbergasted and furious. “Oh, my God! Josh, what are you doing?” I reached Josh and grabbed his arm before he could haul off and hit Emilio again. Somehow, Josh must have discovered that Emilio had asked me out. Who would have told him? How on earth had he found out?
“You want to know who this is?” Josh looked at me with fury in his blue eyes. “This is the asshole I took Inga from. This is the creep who was going to throw that cat in the river.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“WHAT?” I yelled in disbelief. “What!”
Emilio had managed to rise to his feet, but I marched up to him, shoved both hands against his chest, and knocked him back down.
“You sicko!” I screamed. “You get out of here! Get out of here now, before I grab one these knives and cut your throat, you fiend! You were going to drown a poor, helpless little cat! My poor, helpless cat! Get of here right now before I knock you senseless and drag you to the bathtub and hold your head underwater and see how you—”
While I was in the midst of my tirade, Emilio scrambled to his feet. Clutching his jaw, he crushed Ade’s flowers as he backed out of the kitchen. Everyone who remained was frozen in place, but poor Héctor and Alfonso looked more dazed than anyone else. As Josh began explaining the situation to them in Spanish, I explained in English.
“Good God!” my mother said, shaking her head. “Well, we simply can’t have him here. Good riddance! What kind of monster would do that to a cat? And Emilio of all people! I never would have guessed. Never!” She paused and said, “And to think that he went to Princeton!”
Digger’s muscular hands began forcefully yanking seeds from the pumpkin. “Seriously. What a scumbag!”
Robin remained silent but scurried to pick up the mass of flowers that had fallen to the floor.
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t help but feel that the gods were conspiring to ruin what was supposed to be Adrianna’s perfect day. But Inga, I reminded myself, was, after all, safe; Josh, my Josh, had snatched her from Emilio’s clutches. “Okay,” I said, “let’s all just calm down. Adrianna is going to lose it if she finds out that there was an actual fistfight at her wedding. Or almost at her wedding. Although, I suppose it was more of a clobbering than anything else.” I grinned at Josh, who winked at me. I mentally kicked myself for having given Emilio a second thought.
“Yeah, and I got it all on film!” Nelson whispered excitedly.
I didn’t have time for Nelson and his obsession with so-called reality. “Mom, let’s get out of the way and get upstairs so Adrianna can start on our hair.”
We were on our way to the stairs when I heard my name called. Turning around, I saw Héctor walking toward me.
“Chloe,” he said in a heavily accented voice.
“Yes? Héctor?” Despite all the time I’d spent trying to teach myself the language from online sites, my Spanish was pretty bad. “Mom, I’ll meet you up there.”
Héctor began speaking so rapidly that I couldn’t even begin to guess what he was trying to tell me. What’s more, I really had to get upstairs to be with the bride. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Josh. Go see Josh. He’ll understand. I have to go.”
My mother and I found Adrianna in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door in the guest room. She was wearing a robe and had her hair bound up in large rollers.
“My matron of honor! And my solemnizer! Is that even a word?” Even with a crazy mountain of curlers on her head, Ade was all glowy and adorable.
With tremendous formality, I announced, “We are here and at your command. Who’s first?”
“You are, Chloe. Go shower, and I’ll get you started. And then Bethany.”
By the time our hair was done, it was midafternoon. Mom’s hair had been parted on the side and flatironed straight. My highlighted red hair had been slathered in serums and styling creams to prevent any dreaded frizziness; I now had a gorgeously soft and smooth mane that Ade had blown dry with a gigantic round brush that gave me plenty of height at the roots and curl at the ends. I really needed to practice my blow-drying skills so I could duplicate this result myself. Ade’s blonde hair fell in soft curls down her back, and the front was pulled away from her face by the veil I’d worn while prancing around her apartment. My mother and I had on our wedding outfits, but Adrianna hadn’t yet put on her gown.
“I have to go check on your father and make sure he got out the, uh, well . . . nothing! I’ll be back in time for the ceremony, Adrianna. Don’t worry!” Mom rushed out of the room.
“I haven’t seen Jack all day, have you?” Ade asked with a hint of concern. “I hope your dad will appear in time to walk me down the aisle.”
“He wouldn’t miss it. Not a chance. I’m sure everything is fine.” I watched while Adrianna did her makeup. “Are you nervous yet, Ade?” I took some pictures of her with my digital camera while she peered at herself in the mirror.
“Not at all. Especially because my mother knows she isn’t allowed to see me until the ceremony. The last person I wanted to spend time with today was her. I’m just so glad I have you and your mother with me while I get ready. There! My makeup is done.” She turned to me, and her eyes lit up. “I think I should put on my dress.”
We unzipped the white gown from the garment bag, and I helped Adrianna to step into the dress. When I zipped up the back, I was quite relieved to find that the fit was perfect. “Let me look at you.”
I stood in front of my best friend and clasped my hands to my mouth to stifle my choked gasps. The crisp white material was fitted over her chest and tied halter-style at the nape of her neck. Adrianna had altered the dress so that it fell softly against her belly and accentuated the beautiful shape of her late-pregnancy body. Gentle gathers of fabric made up the skirt. Her wedding dress was simple, with no lace or huge bows: just clean, flowing lines. I felt overwhelmingly happy that Kitty wasn’t here to make snide comments about Adrianna’s decision to wear virginal white.
I grabbed a tissue and dabbed my eyes. “You’re breath-taking, Ade. You really are.” I started maniacally snapping pictures. I looked at my watch. “It’s getting close. Oh, we almost forgot the flowers! I’ll go find the bouquets. And then I have to get all my papers for the ceremony.”
“Okay. I’ll just be here.”
I couldn’t leave Ade by herself. My dad was going to walk her down the aisle, but she needed a woman to wait with her. “Don’t worry. I’ll send someone up to sit with you. Give me a hug.”
&nbs
p; “Watch the dress.” Ade shrieked as I leaned in. We hugged gently, not wanting to crinkle our dresses or ruin our makeup.
“I’ll see you on the aisle.” I opened the guest room door and stepped into the hall.
“Oh, screw it. Give me a real hug.” Ade held her arms out.
I raced to my friend and squeezed her tightly. “This is it.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I had to find someone to stay with Adrianna while we dealt with last-minute details. In so many ways, Ade really was alone: she had almost no women friends, her father had disappeared, and her hostile mother was worse than none. If she waited by herself, she was bound to feel painfully solitary. My mother was her matron of honor, but this was Mom’s house, and she was mobbed right now. I looked out the front door and spotted my sister. No, Heather wouldn’t do; she couldn’t open her mouth without criticizing someone or something. Although Heather wouldn’t intentionally hurt Adrianna, she might blurt out something thoughtless and stinging. Besides, she and her husband, Ben, were busy trying to keep their kids from ruining their fancy outfits. And they did look adorable; one-year-old Lucy was wearing a poofy pink dress and white Mary Jane shoes, and five-year-old Walker had on a navy suit. I had visions of them serving as flower girl and ring bearer at my own wedding. Romantic visions of Josh and me riding off into the sunset momentarily distracted me. I shook off my fantasies and continued looking for an appropriate person to stay with Adrianna.
Owen’s relatives were impossibly difficult, and Kitty was obviously out, too. Then I saw Naomi and her boyfriend, Eliot, on the front lawn, admiring the tent. Aha! Naomi was, well, Naomi. New Age, corny, touchy-feely, yes, but Naomi was absolutely genuine, and she was sweet, supportive, and reliably kind. “Naomi!” I waved her over. “I need a favor.”
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