The bride across the room snickered softly. They were certainly a bunch of characters, but I was only listening to their banter with half an ear. The only person at the Love Nest I really cared about wasn’t even in the room.
Or was he?
If Dog Leg’s visitor was a con artist, he might be any one of the four men (or even one of the three women) in front of me. But how would we ever figure out if that was the case? I certainly couldn’t ask if one of them had recently sent a letter to Old Dog Leg. Even if one of them had, it wasn’t like he—or she—would just admit it.
Grey’s chest puffed up in mild outrage at Hyacinth’s introduction. “Me? Crazy? I beg your pardon!”
Hyacinth flicked one thick wrist to wave away his protest. “He dresses up like that because he volunteers at the library.”
Despite his earlier comments about the professor, Cleveland joined in to defend the latecomer. “He volunteers to work with kids whose daddies have run off and whose mamas are working three jobs to make ends meet. Or the ones whose parents are more interested in a crack pipe than math homework.”
Grey nodded, and a proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Someone has to do it. Those children aren’t receiving a proper education at school.” He pointed a finger at the two young grooms across the room and said, “Make sure you do your duty when the kids come along, you hear me?”
One of the young men nodded solemnly. The other bit back a smile.
Hyacinth shook her head slightly, but I could see the fondness in her expression. “Don’t get him started on what’s wrong with the schools these days. What he really means is that he’s bored out of his skull since he retired and dressing up like that makes him feel important.”
“Educating kids is a worthy undertaking,” Gabriel said. “You must be very proud of your husband,” he said to Lula Belle. “How long has he been doing this?”
Lula Belle laughed. “Oh honey, I’m not married to that old fool. I prefer to keep my options open.”
Grey ignored her insult and answered Gabriel’s question. “I’ve been helping the kids more years than I can count.” He glanced pointedly at the others in the group, flipped out the tail of his coat with a flourish, and dropped onto a chair. “It’s nice to be appreciated for a change.”
With his apparent love of acting, Grey certainly could be planning to slip into the role of Monroe Magee, but would someone who really worked with disadvantaged youth do something so shady? I also ruled out the pastor on principle (not that pastors couldn’t be scam artists, but still . . .). That left Cleveland and Dontae as the only real candidates.
Dontae chuckled at Grey’s outrage, a deep rumble that seemed to roll like distant thunder in his massive chest. “You always were full of yourself, Professor. But these two lovebirds don’t care what you do or why you do it. They’ve got more important things on their minds.”
Grey’s eyes clouded, and I sensed another storm on the horizon. “You think
I’m
full of myself?” he said with a laugh of derision. “At least I retired after forty years at Letterman Industries,
with
the gold watch and the certificate for dedicated service. Can you say the same?”
The smile slid from Dontae’s round face, a clear sign that Grey’s volley had hit its intended target.
Hyacinth clucked like a mother hen. “That was uncalled for, Grey. What’s gotten into y’all tonight? Let’s just drop it. Our guests aren’t interested in your old squabbles.”
Oh, but we were. At least I was. The more they all bickered with each other, the more likely Gabriel and I might learn something useful. Neither Grey nor Dontae looked ready to back down, but they retreated to neutral corners just as Primrose bustled back into the room holding more glasses.
Gabriel left my side to take the glasses from her, and Hyacinth sniffed loudly. “There you are,” she said, her good humor already gone. “I swear you move a little slower every day. Now, can we get on with this? I have work to do.”
The residents of the Love Nest certainly had an odd way of showing their affection, though it really did seem to be affection. I bit back a smile at the look Primrose gave her sister and caught Gabriel ducking his head from the corner of my eye.
Part of me was just as eager as Hyacinth to get this phony toast over with, but I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to go back upstairs to that tiny room with its heart-shaped bed. And if Monroe was a guest at the Love Nest, I’d never meet him from the privacy of our honeymoon suite. I tried sending a silent signal to Gabriel that we should drag out the cocktail party as long as possible—without letting the pastor bless our counterfeit union. If Gabriel got the message, he didn’t signal back.
While Primrose poured champagne and passed around the glasses, I put on my best adoring-bride expression and leaned closer to Gabriel, hoping for a chance to whisper something to him without being overheard. As I did, my cell phone vibrated again. Once again I silenced it without taking it out of my pocket. But two calls coming so close together made me wonder if something had gone wrong at the bakery. Vowing to check who’d called the very second I was upstairs, I accepted my glass and asked as innocently as I could, “So, is this everyone who’s staying at the Love Nest?”
Cleveland frowned so hard half a dozen new wrinkles formed. “Everyone who matters.”
Lula Belle paused in the act of smoothing one gnarled hand over her pant leg. “That’s a mean thing to say.”
“It’s the truth,” he said. “Besides all y’all,” using his glass, he gestured at the other two couples and then at us, “
this
is our group.”
“The Lord asks us to forgive,” Pastor Rod said gently.
Gabriel slipped his free hand around my shoulder and squeezed gently, and I suspected he was as intrigued by this group of senior citizens as I was. Just who did they need to forgive? And for what?
Primrose looked up sharply, but the tone of her voice was even sharper. “Pastor!”
“You know I’m right, Primrose.”
“What I know is, this isn’t the time or the place to air our dirty laundry.” Her smile remained, but keeping it in place seemed to take more effort by the minute. “Now, please. Let’s lift a glass to Gabriel and Rita. May your marriage be blessed. May your life together be long and fruitful.”
Fruitful
?
The real honeymooners and small crowd of old people held up their glasses to a chorus of “hear-hears.”
I took one tiny sip of champagne, a little afraid to tempt fate after that toast.
Gabriel slugged down his glass as if Primrose hadn’t just tried to curse us into multiplying and replenishing.
Pastor Rod held up his hands and said, “Let us pray.”
The champagne toast had been one thing, but if I let a man of the cloth pray for my phony marriage, I’d burn in hell for sure. I was seriously considering shouting
Fire!
and putting an end to my misery when a lanky man with dark chocolate skin and a smattering of even darker brown freckles came around the corner. He paused as if he was surprised to see us there. “Ho! What’s all this? You havin’ a party without me?”
I’m pretty sure you could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the sudden silence that fell. Nobody moved for what felt like a full minute, and the expressions on the faces of the Love Nest residents ranged from stunned surprise on the womens’ faces to anger and resentment on the mens’.
Hyacinth recovered first, carefully putting her glass on the coffee table. She spread a quick warning glance over the group and then turned on a smile that was pure Southern hospitality in action. “Well, of course you’re invited, Monroe. Get yourself in here and join us.”
Nine
Hyacinth’s invitation to Monroe echoed in the uneasy silence. My heart sputtered like a bad engine. I wanted to ignore everyone and everything else and immediately go strike up a conversation with Old Dog Leg’s alleged brother, but I didn’t want to frighten him off.
Clearly sensing my intentions, Gabriel leaned close and whispered, “Patience, Grasshopper.”
I kept my eyes straight ahead, trying not to let my eagerness at Monroe’s arrival show.
Monroe didn’t seem to notice Hyacinth’s lack of enthusiasm, my barely concealed excitement, or the others’ grim-faced reactions. He slouched into the room, smiling as if we’d all welcomed him with open arms. “So what’s the occasion?”
“A wedding,” Grey said in a voice that was almost as tight as his Civil War uniform.
While Monroe went over to Pastor Rod and shook his hand, I cuddled up to Gabriel and muttered under my breath, “I’m betting our Monroe has a history with these people.”
Gabriel wrapped his arms around me and spoke into my neck, making me shiver. “Ya think? But that’s not our problem. We just need to figure out if he’s Dog Leg’s brother like he claims to be. They don’t look alike, though, do they?”
No, they didn’t. Monroe’s nose was longer and broader, his skin lighter than Old Dog Leg’s. Dog Leg was larger and more sturdily built, and despite the physical challenge of not being able to see, he carried himself with a confidence that seemed to elude Monroe. I watched him closely, looking for some shared trait, but I couldn’t spot a single one.
Monroe moved on, putting a hand on Cleveland’s shoulder, apparently oblivious to the way Cleveland shrugged it off. He then turned and ran a quick glance over Gabriel and me. “I guess you’re the bride and groom?”
Gabriel and I moved toward him as if we were joined at the hip. Gabriel shook the man’s hand and introduced us. “And you are—?”
“Monroe Magee.” He looked around the room, and his grin grew wider. “I’d ask if you were related to somebody here, but I guess it’s pretty obvious you’re not part of the family.”
Everyone in the room seemed uncomfortable with his observation, but Dontae was the first one to speak. “You always did know the wrong thing to say,” he grumbled.
Hyacinth scowled at both men. “Mr. and Mrs. Broussard are guests. They checked in this afternoon for their honeymoon. I’ll thank you to treat them the same way you’d treat any of our honeymoon couples.”
Monroe looked stricken. “I—I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stammered. “I was just sayin’.” Gabriel and I made “don’t worry about it” gestures, but Hyacinth seemed determined to take offense on our behalf.
“Well don’t,” Hyacinth snapped. “Sister, get Monroe a glass of champagne. Monroe, sit down over there by Dontae.”
Monroe shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched toward the couch. “How you doin’, Dontae?”
Dontae made a vain attempt to shift to one side and kept his eyes downcast, deliberately avoiding looking at Monroe. “I’ve been better.”
Yep. Something was going on here, and I was dying to find out what it was.
Pastor Rod mumbled something in his hardscrabble voice that I couldn’t quite make out. Maybe I was imagining things, but he seemed to be the only man in the room who wasn’t all that upset by Monroe’s arrival.
Now that they’d recovered from the surprise, the women seemed charmed—other than Hyacinth, whose back and shoulders were rigid, her neck suddenly lined by newly prominent veins. Primrose smiled shyly as Monroe passed her. Lula Belle patted the seat beside her and cooed, “Monroe, why don’t you come on over here and sit by me instead?”
Monroe’s step faltered slightly. He looked back and forth between the two women, as if he didn’t know which of them to go to. His apparent lack of self-assurance made it hard for me to believe that this guy was a con man, but I supposed it could have all been an act.
Lula Belle saw that I’d noticed his confusion and winked broadly at me. “I know I’m bad,” she confided in a stage whisper, “but I never have been able to resist a good-looking man.”
I bit back a smile. I wouldn’t say Monroe was unattractive, but I wouldn’t have ranked him as handsome.
Lula Belle crossed her legs and leaned back in a pose that might have been provocative in a younger woman. On her it just looked disturbing.
“Mr. Magee is a lucky man,” Gabriel said with a grin.
Pastor Rod laughed at that and shook his head with what appeared to be fond amusement. “I worry for your eternal soul, Lula Belle. I really do.”
She kicked one foot gently. “Don’t be such a priss, Rod. Nobody goes to hell over a little harmless flirting.” Her jet-black eyes danced with mischief, and she put one hand up to her mouth as if she were about to share a secret with me. “Honestly, the way he takes on these days you’d think the man never did anything in his life but read the Bible.”
I smiled uncomfortably, and she turned her attention back to Monroe, who still hadn’t made up his mind where to sit.
“Well, Monroe?” Lula Belle prodded. “Are you coming?”
He hunched those shoulders a bit more and turned toward Lula Belle. With a speed that surprised me, Primrose stepped in front of him and handed Monroe his glass, effectively cutting off his route to Lula Belle. I swear she even batted her eyelashes. “Here you go, Monroe. I put those extra blankets you asked for in your room. If there’s anything else you need, you just let me know.”
“And if you need anything important,” Lula Belle cut in, “come to
my
room.”
The birdlike woman I’d met that afternoon disappeared in a flash as Primrose gave Lula Belle a look that could have pierced solid steel.
Pastor Rod put a hand on Primrose’s arm and frowned at her apparent rival. “Lula Belle . . . please.”
She laughed again and patted the back of her hair, completely unfazed by the pastor’s disapproval and Primrose’s sullen frown. Monroe finally seemed to realize that he was walking through a minefield and changed course to head toward the plate of cheese and crackers Hyacinth had set out on a polished sideboard. He loaded a paper plate and stood with his back to the wall, shoulders hunched, watching the rest of the group with an expression that looked both guarded and wistful, as if he’d finally picked up on the negative vibes that were circulating through the room.
Lula Belle pouted at him, clearly disappointed at his standoffishness, but Primrose seemed mollified and the mood shifted again. Grey roped Gabriel and one of the bridegrooms into a conversation about the evils of public education. The other couple slipped out with an excuse about dinner reservations, and I tried to figure out a nonchalant way to strike up a conversation with Monroe alone. I was just about to make my move when Lula Belle nudged her walker to one side and sighed softly. “Guess I don’t have what I once did. There was a time, Monroe wouldn’t have been able to tell me no.” She patted the cushion again, this time indicating the coveted spot for me. “
You
won’t desert me, though, will you, honey? Sit down here and tell me about you and your man.”