The Wedding Party. Robyn Carr

of protection.” She laughed hollowly. “It made him mad.”

      “Jesus Christ. You call the police?”

      She looked into her cola, defeated. “I just took the kids over to the neighbor’s, told her to be sure he didn’t bother them and then came on t’work.” She looked up. “I know I should’ve called the police like you said, but I’m just so tired of him. Of everything. And I didn’t want to be late for work again.”

      “You gotta do this by the book, Merrie. Follow through. Or you’re gonna be real late for work, you know what I mean?”

      “Oh, I don’t think he’d actually kill me,” she said quietly. “So, how’d you talk your ex-wife into helping me out? You don’t have to pay her for this, do you?”

      “No, nothing like that. She likes having me owe her. It makes her feel powerful.” He grinned.

      “You must have a pretty good relationship with her, even after the divorce.”

      “We were married one twenty-sixth of the total time we’ve known each other, and we’ve gotten along better in the last twenty-five years than we got along in that one. Most of the time I irritate the shit outta her.” He grinned, as if it was an achievement. “But, like I said, she relishes opportunities to remind me that I am a lowly cop and she is a big fucking attorney.” Merrie lit a cigarette. “Hey, I thought you quit.”

      She exhaled away from him, trying to spare him the secondhand smoke. She touched her purplish cheekbone. “I’m under a lot of stress.”

      “Soon as this is over, you gotta try to quit again. That stuff isn’t good for the kids. Y’know?”

      She shook her head. “How’d you end up single? Good-looking guy like you, with such a big heart? Seems like some woman’d have you locked up tight.”

      “They do that regular, Merrie, honey. Regular.”

      “Well, listen, I gotta git,” she said, stubbing out the barely smoked cigarette. “Get the kids home and in their own beds before my neighbor has a fit. Jake, I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t such a good guy.”

      “Hey, no problem. C’mon, let’s go.”

      “You think I’m going to get through this, keep my Josie?”

      “I’m telling you, Charlene is the absolute best lawyer in family law in this city. Judges pick her to arbitrate all the time. She’s so good she even took a case to the Supreme Court. And she’s a nice person. You’ll like her. She’s got a lot of…What’s the word I’m looking for? She’s got a lot of spunk, that’s for sure, but that’s not it. She’s got class, but that’s not it either…. Dignity. She’s got dignity. You spend a little time with her, you feel all cleaned up.”

      They exited the bar and stood outside in the wet, early-spring night. “You never should’ a divorced her,” Merrie said.

      “Ha. That was not one of my options.”

      Four

      The sun came out on Saturday morning and Charlene took it as an omen. She was preparing the brunch for her mother and daughter over which she would give them the good news.

      “Let’s not overcook that quiche,” Dennis said.

      They were making brunch. They would convey the news. She mentally lectured herself to start thinking and acting as a couple. This should not be a challenge; they’d been together for years.

      Dennis put a sprig of mint in the festive-looking bowl of multicolored melon balls and poured four mimosas. He snapped open and refolded the linen napkins, peeked in the chafing dish at the ham and bacon and turned on the coffeepot. Charlene brought the warm croissants to the table, unfolded the napkins and put them in decorative rings, checked the meat in the chafing dish and turned down the temperature, then drank one mimosa. Rather quickly.

      Dennis noticed. “There isn’t any reason to be tense,” he said. “I’m sure they approve of me.”

      “It’s silly, isn’t it? But I am tense. Why is that?”

      “Are you afraid to get married?”

      “No. In fact, since we made the decision, I’ve never felt more relaxed. Secure. Pam says I glow.”

      “You didn’t like the way I folded the napkins?” he asked. And if she wasn’t mistaken, asked rather testily.

      “I wanted to use the napkin rings—I just bought them. If you don’t like them, take them off.” She took a breath. “Dennis, there are a couple of things we haven’t talked about yet.”

      “Like?” He left the napkin rings alone.

      “Insurance? Joint accounts? Prenup?”

      “Those things don’t matter to me,” he said. He’d already told her that he had set aside some money for his niece and nephew, for college, and he naturally assumed Stephanie would remain her beneficiary. “Anything you want is fine with me.”

      “Well, here’s something we haven’t discussed. Where are we going to live? I assumed we’d be living here.”

      He stared at her for a moment as she fussed with the napkins, then he picked up a mimosa and drained the glass. “You did?”

      “It seems like we spend more time here,” she said.

      “That’s because of your schedule. You don’t exactly keep regular hours.”

      “I don’t punch a clock, no.”

      “Exactly! And when we have plans and you can’t get away until the last possible minute, I come for you here. Then I bring you back here.”

      “I thought you liked it here,” she said.

      “I like being with you,” he countered. “And coming here rather than asking you to drive back into the city is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

      “Oh. You’re being a gentleman? You don’t like it here?”

      “I like if fine,” he said snappishly. “But it’s for your convenience that we spend more time here. My house is actually closer to your office and the courthouse. If your clothes were in my closet, it would work out even better for us to meet there.”

      “Your place would make a nice rental,” she said.

      “You don’t like my house?”

      “I love your house, but this house has a larger master bedroom and bath. Plus, I just bought it.”

      “It would make a nice rental,” he said, a little edge in his voice.

      “I don’t want it to be a rental!”

      “Really?” he asked. “Why not?”

      “It’s my house! I don’t want to rent it out!”

      “And you think I’d like to rent mine out because…?”

      “It’s older, larger and there are more rentals in your neighborhood.”

      “It’s an historic district!”

      “You don’t seem as attached to your house as I am to mine.”

      “It’s a restored home! I restored it!”

      The doorbell rang. They stared each other down.

      “We’re going to have to put this discussion on the back burner,” she said.

      “Where it will stay good and hot,” he added testily.

      They went to the door together, plastered smiles on their faces and swung the portal open to greet Stephanie and Lois. They welcomed with hugs and cheek presses, pulling the guests inside. Dennis quickly replenished the mimosas that had been guzzled while the brunch