Wedding Bell Blues

Wedding
Bell Blues

by

Ellie Ferguson

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this
book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is
purely coincidental.

 

 

Wedding Bell Blues
copyright © 2010 by Ellie
Ferguson.

 

 

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form.

 

 

A Naked Reader Press Original

 

Naked Reader Press

 

www.nakedreader.com

 

 

ISBN: 978-1-61136-005-9

 

 

Cover art by Laura Givens

 

Copyright © 2010 by Laura Givens.

 

http://www.lauragivens-artist.com

 

 

 

1. Chapter One
   
2. Chapter Two
   
3. Chapter Three
   
4. Chapter Four
   
5. Chapter Five
   
6. Chapter Six
   
7. Chapter Seven
   
8. Chapter Eight
   
9. Chapter Nine
   
10. Chapter Ten
    
11. Chapter Eleven
    
12. Chapter Twelve
    
13. Chapter Thirteen
    
14. Chapter Fourteen
    
15. Chapter Fifteen
    
16. Chapter Sixteen
    
17. Chapter Seventeen
    
18. Chapter Eighteen
    
19. Chapter Nineteen
    
20. Chapter Twenty
    
21. Chapter Twenty One
    
22. Chapter Twenty Two
    
23. Chapter Twenty Three
    
24. Chapter Twenty Four
    
25. Chapter Twenty Five
    
26. Chapter Twenty Six
    
27. Chapter Twenty Seven
    
28. Chapter Twenty Eight
    
29. Chapter Twenty Nine
    
30. Chapter Thirty
    

 

 

 

 

"
. . . and while the official police statement is
that they are
pursuing a number of leads in the recent string of burglaries, unnamed
sources within the department confirm that they have very little to go
on. Detective Colton Dougherty, the detective in charge of the
investigation, has refused comment, referring all questions to the
public affairs officer for the Dallas Police Department. . . .
"

The image on the television screen across the room changed
from the
studio shot to the exterior of one of the local strip malls. Police
cars with their light bars flashing acted like beacons in the night,
drawing a number of gawkers. Uniformed officers stood nearby to prevent
the onlookers from getting too close. Detectives in dark slacks and
white shirts, badges hanging from shirt pockets or chains around their
necks, moved in and out of one of the stores. Normally, I'd not pay
much attention to such film clips, but one of the detectives was
familiar - too familiar, and I started in surprise before I could
control it.

"Stand still!" my mother hissed around a mouthful of pins as
she desperately held onto the hem of my dress.

I
barely heard her. Instead, my attention was focused on the newscast.
Colton turned to face the camera, his contempt for the reporters
shouting questions clear. For a moment, he stood there, his expression
hard, the fingers of his right hand drumming impatiently against his
thigh. Another shouted question and he took a step forward. As he did,
I leaned forward a bit, forgetting that I stood precariously balanced
on a three-legged stool while my mother tried to pin the hem of the
dress I'd be wearing in my sister's wedding in less than a week.

"Jessica, stand still! Do you want me to stick you?"

Mother gave the skirt a little jerk and I shook myself. The
last
thing I needed was for her to know I'd been watching the news story -
No, the last thing I needed was for her to know I'd been watching
Colton.

Then I realized what she'd said and actually considered
it. Don't get me wrong. I don't like pain. Under most circumstances, I
go out of my way to avoid it. However, it was possible that if she
stuck me, I'd awaken from this nightmare and discover that pink and
purple taffeta hadn't taken over my life. That had to be worth
something, didn't it? At least it was only for another week or so. Once
my sister was married, the maid of honor dress from Hell could be
relegated to the back of my closet where it belonged, never to be seen
again.

Problem solved.

At least until the glow of seeing her youngest daughter
married
dimmed and my mother once more embarked upon her campaign to get me
married. That was yet another reason why I didn't want her to know I'd
been watching Colton on the TV. Still, I'd enjoyed three months of
peace and I didn't look forward to it ending. Maybe, before that
happened, the gypsies would finally come steal me away. A girl can
hope, can't she?

"Sorry," I mumbled, teetering slightly on the stool. As if
looking
like a harlequin wasn't bad enough, now I had to worry about keeping my
balance.

"I don't know why you can't just stand there like the other
girls,
Jessica." As she pinned the hem of my dress, Mom's fingers worked with
the precision of a surgeon. Probably because she was one. "You'd think
you weren't happy your sister is getting married."

"I am too happy!"

And I was, on a lot of different levels. Maryanne had been in
love
with Brett Boudreaux from the moment she first laid eyes on him in
second grade. She'd made it her life's mission to win him over. There
had been times when she'd almost despaired of it ever happening. But my
sister is both determined and resilient. Despite that, it had taken a
pregnancy scare and the threat that she'd cut him out of her life and
their baby's before he finally came to his senses. Six weeks and a lot
of convincing later, he asked her to marry him. Now she was getting her
big wedding, and I couldn't be happier for her.

"You'd never prove it by me, not the way you've done your best
to avoid your duties as maid of honor."

I rolled my eyes and said a quick prayer for patience - or at
least
for the wisdom to keep my mouth shut. There's one thing you can say
about Dr. Faith Marie Jones. She always knows she's right, no matter
what the truth might actually be. For some reason, she'd convinced
herself I was jealous of Maryanne and nothing I'd say would change her
mind. All I could do was ignore her and hope she'd change the subject.

Unfortunately, Mom wasn't wrong about me trying to avoid my
"duties". I had, and I felt guilty about it. Work had kept me busy, and
Maryanne had chosen to get married the week before finals. Still, I
could have made time for the different shopping trips and girls' nights
out she'd arranged for the bridesmaids. But, in my mind at least,
begging out of those things had kept the peace because it meant I
hadn't been too tempted to kill one of the other bridesmaids.

"Oh, Jessie, you look absolutely adorable in your dress,"
Janie
Bickerstaff drawled from the doorway as she quickly snapped three
photos of me teetering on the stool. Wonderful. By the time I got home,
everyone on her email list some would have copies. See, this was why I
had begged out of so many of the things Maryanne had planned. Janie and
I had never gotten along. I still remembered with regret that grade
school field trip to Burgers Lake when I'd talked myself out of
drowning her because I knew it would upset my sister. I'd have done the
world a favor if I'd acted on my impulse back then. Really I would have.

A sharp prick just above my right ankle cut off my quick
retort.
Just as well. This was Maryanne's day and I wouldn't spoil it by
killing Janie where she stood in the doorway smirking at me. Besides,
my mother would never forgive me for staining her new carpet.

However, there are other ways of dealing with persistent pests
besides mashing them underfoot.

"I can't wait to see you coming down the aisle, Janie. The
pink and
purple will look wonderful with your hair." Her fire-engine-red hair
straight from the bottle. She paled, gulped once and dashed back into
the kitchen. Mom chuckled softly and shook her head. That pinprick
might have kept me from giving Janie a verbal lobotomy, but the truth
of the matter was Mom had no more use for her than did I.

"Mama, are you about through?" Maryanne called from the
kitchen.

"In a minute, dear. I'm just finishing up your sister's dress."

For a moment, relief filled me. Janie and the other
bridesmaids were
going to do some last minute shopping and then go out for drinks and,
maybe, dinner. That meant I could slip out and escape the crazy ladies
before they moved from wedding talk to dissecting my love life - or
lack thereof.

"Jessie." Maryanne's pretty face appeared around the door
frame and
my heart sank. Before they left, she wanted us all to have a drink
together to toast the upcoming wedding. "What do you want to drink?"
She looked so excited. I couldn't leave, not yet. I was her big sister
and her maid of honor. I'd spent my life being there for her. I
couldn't leave her now simply because wedding preparations scared the
hell out of me. Besides, it was just a drink. How bad could it be?

"Iced tea, Tink." I grinned as she glared at me. "I still have
papers to grade."

"Jessica, don't call me that!"

"Sorry." I winked and she grinned even as our mother gave my
skirt a
tug, reminding me to behave. Maryanne had been "Tink" or "Tinkerbell"
since she'd been a baby.

"Jessie, you don't hate the dress, do you?" Maryanne's blue
eyes
were worried as she hurried to stand before me. Damn that Janie
Bickerstaff. I'd lay odds she'd said something like that to Maryanne
just to upset her.

"Of course not. You know all I care about is you being happy."
I
meant it, too. She'd waited a long time for this day - well for a week
from today - and I wasn't about to ruin it by telling her she'd taken
leave of her fashion sense. "Besides, your dress is so gorgeous no one
is going to be looking at anyone else."

"It is, isn't it?"

Her smile seemed to light up the room and, ignoring our
mother's
protests, I leaned down to give Maryanne a hug. "Now go make sure the
others aren't making too big of a mess in the kitchen. Or worse,
getting into the wine you picked out for your dinner with Brett's
family tomorrow."

Maryanne gave a soft squeak of concern and hurried back into
the
kitchen, the robe she'd put on after her own fitting fluttering behind
her. Mom's chuckle surprised me as did her look of approval when I
glanced down. She placed one last pin in the hem and helped me off the
stool. A moment later, she carefully eased the dress over my head and
stepped back, spreading it across the back of the sofa until she could
hang it up.

"Go keep those girls from destroying my kitchen, Jessie. You
know
what they can be like," she commented as I slipped into jeans and tee
shirt. "I'll be along shortly."

I breathed deeply and steeled myself for a return to the
foolishness
I'd hoped I'd left behind when I graduated from high school and did as
she asked. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

Yeah, sure it wouldn't. It would be about as much fun as a
root canal without Novocain.

Needless to say, I was wrong. A root canal without Novocain
would
have been so much more fun than the gossip-fest I sat through. Oh, the
gossip wasn't that bad, even though there is no more vicious animal on
the face of the Earth than a bunch of women with time on their hands
and other people's business to discuss. At least as long as I was
there, they didn't try - too hard - to dissect everything they believed
was wrong with my life. Of course, the fact most of them remembered
how, at different times, I'd threatened to pound them into dust for
being empty-headed little idiots might account for that.

So, for another hour I sat through wedding plans, honeymoon
speculations and none-too-subtle hints about what married life and
married sex would be like. Most was all good-natured fun. But some,
mainly from Janie, who'd once gone after Brett herself, was more than a
bit snide. Only Mom's warning glances - and a sharp kick to my shin
under the table - kept me from saying anything. At least Maryanne
seemed oblivious to her friend's intent. Still, if Janie kept it up,
I'd be forced to say something. There was no way I would let her, or
anyone, spoil Maryanne's happiness.