Chapter Twenty-One

PEOPLE SAT SHOULDER to shoulder, stuffed into pews anywhere they could find a seat. Veronica peered out at them and wiped her forehead with the handkerchief she had nabbed from her father. She jumped when Millie touched her shoulder.

“You okay, mo ghràdh?” Millie’s voice was soothing.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen most of these people since my cousin’s baptism. And you know how that went.”

“Well, we didn’t fly all the way here so you could hide from them.” Millie squeezed her shoulder. Veronica turned to her, and Millie straightened Veronica’s tie. “Now. Let’s go meet your people. It’s rude to come in after the bride. Your mother has our seats marked off so we can get out and get to our instruments for the recession.”

They left the safety of the vestry and made their way down the side aisle. A silence fell over each row they passed, replaced by a soft murmuring as soon as they had gotten out of hearing range. They arrived at their designated pew and her favorite cousin, Jordan, waved at her. She slid into the polished wood pew and scooted down to give Millie space to sit. They took their seats as the groom and the minister arrived at the altar.

Her cousin’s posture was stiff. “I saw your name on the program,” she whispered.

“Is Jimmy here?” Veronica craned her neck to see if Jordan’s twin had arrived.

A wave of sadness passed over Janie’s face. “He’s not coming.”

Veronica opened her mouth to ask why, but the strains of the wedding march filled the church, and everyone rose as her sister and her parents made their way down the aisle. Veronica swiped at a stray tear when her sister read her vows. Millie reached over and clasped her hand and laced their fingers together.

As the priest concluded the ceremony, Millie and Veronica left the pew quietly and met her cousin Frank at the back of the church. Frank and Millie picked up their guitars and sat on tall stools behind Veronica.

Veronica’s hands trembled when she thumbed on the microphone, and then Frank and Millie began to play. Veronica sang as her sister made her way down the aisle. Her sister grinned and winked at Veronica as she walked past.

 

THE RECEPTION DINNER was an elegant affair. Her sister and her new husband sat at the head table surrounded by their parents. Veronica and Millie were at the cousins’ table which still felt like the kids’ table to Veronica. She listened to their banter as they all shared stories of what was going on in their lives. It was like being home for a holiday meal. Only Jordan seemed to not enjoy herself. Veronica caught her staring at Millie more than once.

Millie sat quietly by her side. Veronica let her thoughts drift away from the conversation and Jordan’s confusing behavior and indulged herself in imagining taking Millie back to their room and divesting her of the handsome suit she wore one piece at a time. A subtle nudge on her shoe brought her back to the present.

“Earth to Ronnie. What have you been up to? Besides mountain climbing?” Walter, her favorite cousin, waggled his eyebrows and tilted his head toward Millie. “Does Meghan Markle know?” He cackled at his own joke. The rest of the table snickered, and Veronica took a breath. Okay. I can do this. This is like when we were kids.

Millie’s voice cut into her thoughts. “We thought we’d keep it on the DL. Let her down easy, you know.”

Walter’s cackle grew louder. “All right, Ronnie, she’s all right. Damn, I feel like I’m on that Outlander show. Your accent is sexy as hell. Say something else.”

Millie leaned back in her chair, gazed into Walter’s eyes, and spoke in a sultry tone. “Taigh nam gasta ort.”

Veronica laughed.

Walter grinned at Millie and tugged at his tie. “What does that mean?”

“Fuck off.” Millie deadpanned.

Walter howled with laughter, and Veronica’s other cousins laughed along with him. Jordan stood, tossed her napkin in her seat, and left the table. Veronica watched as she hurried out of the ballroom with her clutch under her arm.

“You got me. You’re funny. Ronnie, don’t let this one get away.” Walter patted Millie’s forearm. “Are there more like you at home?”

 

COMFORTABLE MILLIE COULD hold her own at the table, Veronica went in search of the bathroom. She pushed through the door and stopped. Jordan was sitting on a low couch. Her head was bowed, and she clutched her purse tightly.

Veronica crossed the floor and touched her shoulder. Jordan flinched. Veronica pulled her hand away. “Sorry.” She leaned down to gaze into her cousin’s face. “Are you okay? Did you drink too much?”

“No.” Her mouth set in a firm line. “No. I…” She inclined her head and held Veronica’s gaze. “Sit with me.”

Veronica sat and rested her damp palms on her knees. This is it. This is when she tells me she can’t accept me and Millie. She moved her hands and dug her fingers into the soft cushion under her hips.

“I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how.”

“The best way is to just say it. It’s me, Jordan. You can tell me anything. You always did when you were little.”

“I know who left the weed in your car.” Jordan’s voice was hoarse.

Veronica shook her head to clear it, sure she had heard wrong. “What?”

“It was Jimmy. And me.”

A wave of nausea coursed through Veronica. “What? Why?” She stood up and began to pace the small space, anger flooding her body. “Why didn’t you say anything? What the hell, Jordan?”

“We bought it for a party. Mama found it in Jimmy’s backpack. We freaked and said we were holding it for you. She told us to give it back or she’d kick us out. We left it in your car when you gave us a ride to school. And then…” Jordan’s breath hitched. “We never thought it would stick. You were so clean. We never imagined….” A sob shook her shoulders. “We were so afraid of what mama would do to us. We didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

Fourteen. They were fourteen. Same age as Millie. They panicked. Broken taillight. Flap of a butterfly’s wing. Veronica fought the wave of sadness and betrayal that threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She left Jordan and pushed through the door leading to the toilet stalls, her lips pressed together to keep from spewing her dinner on the floor.

 

VERONICA SPLASHED HER face with cold water and dried it on a rough brown paper towel. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. So much. So much they took from me. Dee. My fellowship. My career. Fuck. Would it have lasted with Dee? Would I have been happy in a vanilla relationship? I wouldn’t have Millie now. I wouldn’t have ever known how much working with horses feeds my soul.

The sounds of the DJ and a pounding beat rattled the walls of the bathroom. Veronica rinsed her mouth again before she wiped her face dry. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she pushed through the door and conversation stopped. Aunt Jean and Jordan were sitting on the small sofa in the anteroom. Her aunt was holding a lighter in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

“Ah there she is, our family freak. Where did you leave the great white hope?” Her aunt’s voice dripped acid. She left the couch and stepped in front of Veronica, using her considerable bulk to block the door.

Jordan grabbed her mother’s arm. “Mama. Let it go. Please.” Her voice was shrill, panic clear in the tone of her voice.

Tell her. Tell her what her kids did to you. Tell her you know she turned in her own niece. That her kids lied to her. She won’t believe it. Doesn’t matter now, does it? Be cool. Don’t ruin their lives. They were kids.

Her aunt looked down her nose at Veronica. “You’re in the wrong bathroom.”

“Mama, don’t.” Jordan lifted her gaze to Veronica’s eyes. Her voice quavered.

Pain. Fear. Regret. Why ruin their lives? For what? Why waste my time? Fuck.

Aunt Jean raised her voice. Her breath smelt of wine and cigarettes. “It says quite clearly ‘ladies’ room.”

Veronica shook her head and blew out a breath. “Not sure why you’re in here then, Aunt Jean, cause you are not now, nor have you ever been, a lady.” She smiled at her cousin, touched two fingers to her heart in a salute, and left her aunt sputtering in the bathroom.