CHAPTER ONE #2
“I was just kidding about you sleeping with them, but take their money if they tip you, Nadine. Your mama would hit you upside the head if she heard you say you didn’t want their money.”
I snorted. “You’re not lying.”
“I don’t blame you, though.” She glanced over at me, and her face softened. “I’m just glad your eyes aren’t red today, Nadine. I’m sorry for what he did to you. It sucks.”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I sighed. “It does.” I looked out the window at the salt marshes going by.
Jessica Huber had a big ole house at Larkspur Island, like all the rich people from anywhere around here.
She hadn’t grown up in Puckins, Georgia, with us.
She’d gone to a private school in West Bay, an hour away from us.
I’d give just about anything to go live in West Bay. But the only way girls like me got out of Puckins was by being smart and going to college. Or marrying some rich man. Neither of those things were looming on my horizon.
So, I’d probably die here in Puckins just like everyone in my family before me. Except my daddy. Nobody knew where in hell he’d got off to. But I’d bet he hadn’t made it too far from Puckins. He was probably just one town over in shitty Wilkins.
“We’re here,” Jelly said as we pulled up to the prettiest mansion I’d ever seen.
Of course, I hadn’t seen that many. Still, it was beautiful with its big white columns and landscaped lawns and gardens.
There were chairs and tables set up on the side lawn under huge old oak trees. It was real damn fancy.
“Why do you think she hired Maybelle Dickens for the catering? They sure as hell could afford better.” I was bewildered.
“It ain’t for her cheese straws, either.
” Maybelle was known as the cheese straw queen.
Well, at least that’s what she called herself.
Literally. She had a T-shirt and everything.
Jelly leveled me with a look. “I’m pretty sure it has to do with Jessica Huber knowing where you worked.”
“Oh, God.” I wrinkled my nose up. “You think she’s that big a bitch? Doesn’t she know she won already? She don’t have to rub it in my face.”
“I definitely think she’s that big of a bitch.” She pulled into the big side field that was being used for staff parking. It was hidden from sight from the reception area.
We both sat there a minute, gearing up to get out of the car and into the unknown that was the Huber wedding. I thought Jelly suddenly looked a little gray around the gills, but maybe it was just her purple lipstick throwing off her complexion.
“Let’s do this,” I said to Jelly, happy to at least have my best friend with me.
She opened the door and vomited into the tall grass surrounding the car.
“Oh, shit,” she moaned.
“Jelly?”
“Fuck. Nadine? I don’t feel so good.”
Well, that was clear as day. “I’m so sorry, honey. Can I do something for you?”
“No,” she groaned. “I’m just going to sit here a minute. Maybe I’m just car sick. Tell Maybelle Dickens I’ll try to be there in a minute.”
“Okay,” I said, hating the weak tone in my voice.
I didn’t want to walk up to that wedding alone.
I’d only found out the truth about Mark and Jessica Huber a couple of weeks ago.
I’d heard rumors, but Mark kept denying it and saying I was the only woman he’d ever love.
I’d been stupid to believe him, but when you date someone for as long as I’d dated him, you trusted them.
“Oh, Jesus.” She hurled again. I grimaced as I hurried away.
“Text me if you need anything,” I called over my shoulder.
“I might have to go on home,” she yelled. “I’m sorry, Nadine.”
“It’s fine,” I waved her away. It wasn’t fine. My poor friend was sick. I didn’t have a ride home. I was stuck at the Huber wedding. Not only did I have to watch my former boyfriend get married today, but I was now stranded here.
Dammit. Today officially sucked.
I walked slowly through the tall grass and hoped I didn’t pick up a tick or any red bugs. I shuddered at the thought.
Finally, I made it over to the catering entrance.
Maybelle Dickens looked up and saw me. She narrowed her eyes at my tits. “Bout damn time, Nadine Walker.”
“Sorry.” I tried to give her one of my pageant winning smiles. It didn’t seem to work on her, but Tank, one of the male waiters, looked like he might faint. “Where’s that weird girl that’s always with you?” Maybelle asked.
“She’s vomiting over in the fields. She thinks she might have to go on home.”
Maybelle looked horrified. “Hell, yes, she should go home. Can’t have some gothic girl making all the guests sick. I was already dreading whatever the hell she was going to be wearing…”
“Ms. Dickens?”
We all turned at the cultured voice coming from behind us. An elegant lady in a flowing, creamy yellow column dress gave us a slight smile.
“Yes, Mrs. Huber?” Suddenly, Maybelle turned on the charm. Gone was the cussing spitfire who ran her catering company like a drill sergeant. In her place was a sweet, middle-aged Southern lady.
My ass. Maybelle Dickens grew up rough in the very worst trailer park in Puckins. It was much worse than the one Mama and I lived in, and that was saying something since ours was pretty bad, too. She crawled her way out of there by any means possible, not caring who she stepped on along the way.
Rumor had it that those cheese straws of hers were actually her best friend’s mother’s recipe. Instead of paying her for it, Maybelle had threatened to reveal that she’d caught her deep throating the preacher at the First Baptist Church family picnic one year.
There’d never been any kind of fuss over the cheese straws, so I’m guessing her best friend’s mama decided to let it go.
“Our guests are ready for canapés.”
“Can-a-what?” I whispered.
Tank shrugged.
Maybelle heaved out a sigh. “Appetizers, dumbasses. Grab trays and get on out there.” She narrowed her eyes at me again. “Nadine, try to keep your tits in your shirt, okay?”
My face turned a little pink, but I held my head high. And tried not to breathe too heavily.
I started walking around with the cheese straws, crab puffs, and stuffed mushrooms. I offered them to everyone with a smile.
Most people didn’t seem to notice me. They were too busy talking and drinking.
It looked like the Hubers had an open bar.
Of course they did. Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a couple of glasses of champagne or wine.
I’d never liked beer much, even though that’s what everybody had gotten drunk off of in high school.
I’d been glad when I turned twenty-one and I could order wine at the restaurants Mark took me to sometimes. And buy boxed wine for Mama and me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Jelly’s Buick rocketing out of the field and turning back towards Puckins.
Then, it started making noises so loud everyone looked over at it.
Smoke started coming out from under the hood, but Jelly kept going.
My poor friend. I felt so bad that she was sick, and now her car wasn’t working right. Again.
And I was scared about how I was going to get home. Surely Maybelle Dickens wouldn’t just drive off and leave me here.
I looked around. I didn’t see Mark anywhere.
But since we were already passing around trays of food, that meant the wedding had already happened.
Jeez. Mark had been sleeping with me this time last week.
I had briefly gotten back together with him after he’d promised that he’d called the whole thing off with Jessica Huber.
I had obviously been lied to. Again.
Oh, shit. There they were. Everyone clapped and cheered as Mark and Jessica walked under an arch of flowers, holding hands and smiling as they walked around to talk to everyone. I stopped in my tracks and watched him with her. He sure looked like he loved her.
Which one of us had he lied to? Both of us? Or just me?
I didn’t realize that a couple of tears had tracked down my cheeks until someone tapped me on my shoulder.
I turned and almost did a double take. A gorgeous woman in a bright red dress stood there with her arms crossed.
“Why are you crying?”
I quickly wiped away the tears. They pretty much dried up at the sight of her, anyway. I mean, wow. She looked like a cover model. Except she was shorter than I was. And I was five-eight. That was kinda short for models, too, plus they didn’t have big…
“Hello?” She waved her hand in front of my face. “Can you hear me?”
Damn. That was rude. “Yes. My mind just tends to wander, that’s all.”
“Why are you crying?”
I debated whether to tell her. What the hell? “The groom was my boyfriend until about a week ago.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Jessica Huber has been dating that loser for the better part of two years, honey. He might’ve been fucking you, but he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
I felt my face crumple up. It was a sure sign I was about to start sobbing.
“No!” The girl smacked my shoulder. Hard. “Don’t you dare cry,” she hissed at me.
“Ouch!” I rubbed my shoulder. That really hurt. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because, like I said, he’s a loser. You shouldn’t cry over him. And she’s a goddamn fool for marrying him. I tried to tell her, but nobody like her listens to me.” She pulled a cigarette out of her purse and lit it.
I looked around nervously. I didn’t think you were supposed to smoke at a fancy wedding reception. I studied her red dress. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to wear red, either. Who was this chick?
She read my mind. “I’m Carmen Salazar. Who are you?” She blew smoke in the opposite direction, not seeming to mind that it got right in some poor elderly lady’s face. The woman started coughing.
Carmen glanced at her and side stepped. “Ugh. No germs, please.”
The elderly lady gasped and moved along, still coughing from the secondhand smoke.
I gaped at Carmen, shocked by her behavior.