Bad Girls Finish First (20 page)

Although the partition between the front and back of the limousine had been closed, Raven talked so loudly that Lawrence heard every word she said about Maggie Reese.
Why doesn't he put her ass in check?
Lawrence thought for what must have been the thousandth time, but as he always did when Raven got on his nerves, Lawrence ignored Raven's attitude. “Look in the cooler in the back, Mrs. Joseph,” he said when Evan opened the partition. “I put three Cokes in there this morning, just for you.”

Raven filled her tumbler with scotch and added a touch of soda. “And white!” she said, starting in on Maggie Reese again. “Are women who've been giving it up for forty years entitled to wear white? Maybe she shut down on John Reese twenty years ago, earned her way back into a white dress. I know if he were my husband, I'd turn my back on him every night.” Raven drank more and complained more. “Then there's the way she pranced down the aisle, waving and blowing kisses, grandstanding like she was walking the red carpet at an awards show.”

When no one said anything, Raven said, “I swear, men have no taste at all. Am I the only one who noticed what a tacky little ceremony that was?”

Therein lay the problem. The wedding wasn't little or tacky. Maggie Reese wore white, and she looked marvelous, like a woman who'd carried around one man's whole, passionate heart for forty years and who'd given hers to him in return.

“Maggie's not tacky, and neither is John,” Michael said wearily. “Staying together for forty years, and being in love every step of the way, that's something to celebrate. They could've had jugglers and dancing showgirls precede them down the aisle, for all I care. I'm just happy they're happy.”

Michael turned to Evan. “Speaking of which, your song was awesome, son. Spectacular. I'm so proud of you.”

Evan, whose face was turned toward the window, merely grunted.

As the limousine made its way toward the reception, Michael thought about John Reese. He liked to joke that he judged his friends by whether he could call them in the middle of the night. Michael had a short list of people who, if it ever came down to it, would get out of their beds at 3:00
AM
, no questions asked, if he called and said, “I need you.” John was at the top of the list. David was on the list too.

Why has it taken me so long to reconnect with John? If not for this wedding, who knows when we would've talked?
Michael chided himself.

Raven downed her drink so fast that it didn't take her long to start feeling it. When Michael said he was glad John and Maggie were happy, Raven leaned over to Dudley, who was seated across from her, and slapped his knee. “You hear that, Dudley? Michael thinks a long marriage means a happy marriage.” She leaned back and elbowed Michael. “You've got a few things to learn, mister.” Raven giggled and poured more scotch into her glass.

“Oh, I know about marriage, Raven. I know how hard it is to find that once-in-a-lifetime love, but let's forget about that for now.” Michael gently took Raven's glass and said, “I need you to behave, baby. Okay? We've got a long evening ahead of us and I need you at your best. I want to be able to be proud of you—of us—okay?”

Michael's gentleness embarrassed Raven, made her feel like a scolded child. And like a brat who'd been shamed in front of others, she decided to do just the opposite of what her husband asked.

 

 

“Come on, Ev, there wasn't anything I could do about it.” Christopher and Evan were standing outside the ballroom. Inside, hundreds of the Reeses' guests ate, mingled, and swapped stories about the couple. Christopher had missed the wedding, but as soon as he walked into the ballroom, Evan grabbed his arm and led him back outside.

“That's bullshit, Chris, and you know it. You could've taken me with you to pick her up. You could've made her get out of the car.”

“Ev, I couldn't make her—”

Evan got in Christopher's personal space and looked down on his older brother. “You could!” Evan stood so close that Christopher felt Evan's spit on his cheeks. “You could have—”

“Boy, you better get out of my face,” Christopher growled. Evan and Christopher eyeballed each other for a moment, then Evan backed off.

“Look, Evan, I tried to get her to stay, but she wouldn't. It didn't have anything to do with you.”

“It should have. She should've stayed because she wanted to hear me sing.” Evan's voice cracked. “She promised.”

“I hear you,” Christopher said. He bent, picked up a pebble, and rolled it around in his fingers as he spoke. “It's taking Mom a long time to get up the courage to face the crowd she used to be part of. I think—no, I
know
—she's a little intimidated by them, concerned about what they think of her, of what they might say to her.” Christopher tossed the tiny pebble back and forth. “She felt overwhelmed, Ev, that's all. And the thought of being in the same room with Raven and Dad makes her nervous. Seeing Raven is what made her run off.”

Christopher tried to coax a smile from his brother. “Come on, man. If you were Mom, wouldn't Raven scare you? Look at that Twilight Zone, Prince, end-of-the-world shit Raven's wearing today. Walking around looking like she's about to pull out a lion-tamer's whip any minute.” Actually, Christopher had to admit he liked Raven's outfit: The woman had style, and she stepped dramatic more often than not, but she never stepped wrong.

“Scare me? Hell, no. At least Raven was there to hear me sing. Mom's being a selfish bitch. She doesn't care about how I feel.”

Christopher felt his body involuntarily flex. He dropped the pebble he'd been playing with and crushed it beneath his heel. “That's not true, Ev. Mom shielded you from all the stuff she went through. I'm just finding out about a lot of it myself. Those hard times changed her, but Mom loves us, Ev; she's never stopped.”

Christopher found himself again in the position of having to share more of his feelings than he wanted to in order to get someone else to open up, let life in. “When you saw us in the car? I wasn't handling this thing going on between Genie and me very well. Not at all. Mom was her old self. If it hadn't been for her there with me—”

“She was there for
you
, Chris, not for me. What about
me?
Why doesn't Mom give a fuck about
me?”
Evan pointed to himself as he spoke, and his eyes were bright with tears he refused to shed. He sniffed, and because Christopher let him get away with calling Grace a bitch, said, “You know what? Fuck Mom. I don't need her.”

 

 

In lieu of gifts, the Reeses had asked for flowers. “We really don't want anything but your presence,” Maggie Reese told people who inquired about a gift. When their friends wouldn't take no for an answer, Maggie said, “Well, if you must do something, give us flowers.”

They received enough flowers to fill a florist shop and had to have the resort employees set up two extra tables for gifts. Michael had left it up to Raven to order the flowers for them. “Get something extravagant,” he told her. At the reception, he slipped John Reese tickets for a seven-day package to a Jamaican resort.

John Reese tapped his champagne glass to get everyone's attention. “My beautiful bride and I want to thank all of you for coming out.” He paused and kissed Maggie, who stood beside him, her arm encircling his waist. John was extremely happy and more than a little tipsy. He motioned toward the gifts and the flowers. “Look at all this. More flowers than at a pimp's funeral.” Maggie playfully swatted him.

“Woman, you'd better save those love taps for later,” John said. People laughed and clapped.

“And the gifts.” John turned around and stared at the small mountain on the table next to the flowers. “All I can say is, I hope there's some lingerie and Viagra somewhere in there.” Having gotten one more good laugh, John prepared to say his final thank-you, but Michael interrupted him.

“Uh-uh, old man. You don't get to have the last word,” Michael said as he joined the couple at the microphone. “We're not done yet. You asked for your flowers while you're living. Fair enough. But if you get the flowers, you've gotta have the thorns, too.”

Michael raised his champagne glass. “Let the roast begin.”

Guest after guest proceeded to the microphone to tell a funny story about either John or Maggie. After the funny stories came the heart-tugging ones in which people thanked John for some kindness he'd shown them over the years. When one lady choked up in the middle of her story, Michael decided it was time to change the pace.

“Come on, John, Maggie.” He motioned for them to come back to the mike. “One last thank-you and then we'll let the band get started, show these north Dallas elites how we do it on the south side.”

John, sobered by the love his guests showered upon him during their testimonials, made up his mind to say something heartfelt but brief.

What came out of his mouth was, “Grace?”

John handed the microphone to Michael and walked toward the ballroom door. Every eye in the room followed him. Grace Joseph stood alone in the doorway.

“Grace,” he said again when he got to her. He gave her a big, warm hug.

“I'm sorry I missed the wedding, John, I—”

He held Grace at arm's length and looked at her. “You're here now, that's the only thing that counts.”

“Grace,” Maggie Reese said as she came up on Grace's left. “We've missed you, girl,” she said as she hugged her friend.

Then another friend said it.
Grace.
And another.
Grace.
In an instant, Grace Joseph was enveloped in love, just as Christopher had predicted she would be.

 

 

When Grace walked into the room, Michael was caught off guard by the huge lump that developed in his throat and the way his heart dropped to the floor. Like a man in a trance, he moved closer to Grace, until he stood just outside the circle surrounding her. Michael noticed that Grace had lost a little weight—no more than ten or fifteen pounds, but it was enough to remove the love handles that turn women's waistlines from small curvy things into square blocks. She wore her hair up and rays from the ballroom chandeliers seemed to bounce off her blond highlights. She had on an ecru-colored pantsuit with rhinestone buttons. Although she'd lost the war against Raven for Michael's heart, Grace held onto some of her tools of combat, including her designer clothes.

One of Grace's well-wishers stepped aside, and Michael got a clear view of her face for the first time since the judge granted their divorce. Grace had looked worn then, and she'd cried the whole time. He looked at her now and thought,
Whoever said light-skinned women don't age well should've met Grace.
Her skin was luminous, as were her eyes. When she smiled, which she did more and more with each friendship renewed, Grace looked timelessly beautiful.

Michael didn't mean to stare, but he couldn't help himself. Grace looked up quickly, as though she sensed that she was being watched, and she and Michael locked eyes. He lost himself and continued to stare until Grace, turning away, broke the spell.

Michael completely forgot that when other women were around, Raven watched his every move. And she was watching now.

 

 

Raven saw Michael standing there, staring at Grace like a big dummy.
I ought to go over and snatch his ass back into reality,
she thought. But she realized that Michael was as shocked to see Grace as she was. What other reason could he have for giving her a second glance? It wasn't like she looked good—Raven figured that the suit Grace was wearing was at least two seasons old, and her shoes!—hideous.

Raven walked over to Michael, close enough to touch him, and said plainly, “Michael,” but he didn't hear her. She decided to deal with the situation a different way. If Michael could gawk at his ex-wife in her face, then she could do far worse in his.

Raven scanned the room for David, who was in a corner talking to Erika. He kept looking around the room like a thief but then he would turn his attention back to Erika, and Raven's gut told her David was enjoying himself way too much. Now she had two men and an ex-wife to put in their places.

 

 

Michael wasn't the only one transfixed by Grace. Evan looked across the room at his mother, and even though he was angry with her, the young man's heart was talking to him, telling him to forget his pride and hurt feelings, to go to her. He'd just convinced his feet to get moving when Raven sidled up to him. “I see your mom decided to show up. Too bad she chose to make a grand entrance here instead of coming to the church to hear you sing. I wouldn't have missed your song for anything.”

Evan was doubtful. “You think she skipped the wedding on purpose?”

Raven nodded toward Grace, still accepting hugs from long-lost friends. “Look at her, she hasn't even taken the time to seek you out. Too busy socializing.”

Before Evan could make up his mind what to do, Raven pointed across the room to a portrait of John and Maggie, surrounded by flowers. “Isn't that cute,” Raven said to Evan in a mocking tone. “Come on,” she grabbed his hand, “let's go see.”

In another corner of the ballroom, David talked to Erika Whittier. She'd been one of the guests to tell a funny story about John Reese. “For a while there, I thought you were going to bomb,” David half-jokingly told her.

“Who couldn't give those two a proper wedding toast? They're such an adorable couple, they make it easy,” she said.