Read Online Shakespeare's Christmas by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlaine Harris
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me in and down the aisle, flanking me when we reached the clustered wedding party. Naturally enough, they were all staring our way. I could feel my face harden. I hate explaining myself.
And Jack stepped up beside me, put his arm around me, and said, “You must be Lily’s mother! I’m Jack Leeds, Lily’s . . .”
I waited with some interest while Jack, normally a smooth talker, floundered at the end of the sentence.
“Boyfriend,” he finished, with a certain inaccuracy.
“Frieda Bard,” my mother said, looking a little stunned. “This is my husband, Gerald.”
“Mr. Bard,” Jack said respectfully, “glad to meet you.” My father pumped Jack’s hand, beaming like someone who’s just found Ed McMahon and a camera crew on his doorstep. Even the ponytail and the scar on Jack’s right cheek didn’t diminish my father’s smile. Jack’s suit was expensive, a very muted brown plaid that brought out the color of his hazel eyes. His shoes were polished. He looked prosperous, healthy, clean shaven, and I looked happy. That was enough for my dad, at least for the moment.
“And you must be Varena.” Jack turned to my sister.
When would everyone stop looking like deer caught in headlights? You’d think I was a damn leper, they were so amazed I had a man. Jack actually kissed Varena, a quick light one on the forehead. “Kiss the bride for luck,” he said, with that sudden, brilliant smile that was so winning.
Dill recovered quickest.
“I’m about to join the family,” he told Jack. “I’m Dill Kingery.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The shake again.
And it went on from there, with me not saying a word. Jack glad-handed the men and gave the women a flash of clean, earnest sexuality. Even off-kilter Mrs. Kingery beamed at him in a dazed way. “You’re trouble on the hoof, and I know it,” she said firmly.
Everyone froze in horror, but Jack laughed with genuine amusement. The moment passed, and I saw Dill close his eyes in relief.
“I’ll take off, since you’re in the middle of your special occasion,” Jack told the group generally, with no hint of a hint in his voice. “I just wanted to meet Lily’s folks.”
“Please,” Dill said instantly, “we’d really enjoy your joining us for the rehearsal dinner.”
Jack did the polite thing and declined, mentioning the important family occasion and the fact that he had arrived unannounced.
Dill repeated his invitation. Social Ping-Pong.
When Varena joined in, Jack allowed himself to be persuaded.
He retired to sit at the back of the church. My eyes followed him every inch of the way.
We walked through the ceremony again. I went through my paces on autopilot. Patsy Green reminded me again to smile. This time she sounded a little sharper.
I was thinking hard during the rest of the rehearsal, but I couldn’t come to any conclusion. Could it possibly be true that Jack was here for me? He had admitted he had another reason, but he’d said he was coming here anyway. If that was true . . .
But it was too painful to believe.
Jack had already been here when Dr. LeMay and Binnie Armstrong were done to death. So his arrival couldn’t be connected with the double murder.
“Looks like I’m too late on the scene,” Berry said to me in a pleasant way after Patsy Green and the O’Sheas agreed we had the procedure down pat. We were just outside the church doors.
“That’s so flattering of you,” I said with a genuine smile. For once, I had said the right thing. He smiled back at me.
“Lily!” Jack called. He was holding open the passenger door of his car. I couldn’t imagine why.
“Excuse me,” I told Berry and strolled over. “Since when,” I muttered, conscious of my voice carrying in the cold clear air, “have you found it necessary to hold doors for me?”
Jack looked wounded. “Darlin’, I’m your slave.” He seemed to be imitating Berry’s Delta accent.
“Don’t be an ass,” I whispered. “Seeing you is so good.
And Jack stepped up beside me, put his arm around me, and said, “You must be Lily’s mother! I’m Jack Leeds, Lily’s . . .”
I waited with some interest while Jack, normally a smooth talker, floundered at the end of the sentence.
“Boyfriend,” he finished, with a certain inaccuracy.
“Frieda Bard,” my mother said, looking a little stunned. “This is my husband, Gerald.”
“Mr. Bard,” Jack said respectfully, “glad to meet you.” My father pumped Jack’s hand, beaming like someone who’s just found Ed McMahon and a camera crew on his doorstep. Even the ponytail and the scar on Jack’s right cheek didn’t diminish my father’s smile. Jack’s suit was expensive, a very muted brown plaid that brought out the color of his hazel eyes. His shoes were polished. He looked prosperous, healthy, clean shaven, and I looked happy. That was enough for my dad, at least for the moment.
“And you must be Varena.” Jack turned to my sister.
When would everyone stop looking like deer caught in headlights? You’d think I was a damn leper, they were so amazed I had a man. Jack actually kissed Varena, a quick light one on the forehead. “Kiss the bride for luck,” he said, with that sudden, brilliant smile that was so winning.
Dill recovered quickest.
“I’m about to join the family,” he told Jack. “I’m Dill Kingery.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The shake again.
And it went on from there, with me not saying a word. Jack glad-handed the men and gave the women a flash of clean, earnest sexuality. Even off-kilter Mrs. Kingery beamed at him in a dazed way. “You’re trouble on the hoof, and I know it,” she said firmly.
Everyone froze in horror, but Jack laughed with genuine amusement. The moment passed, and I saw Dill close his eyes in relief.
“I’ll take off, since you’re in the middle of your special occasion,” Jack told the group generally, with no hint of a hint in his voice. “I just wanted to meet Lily’s folks.”
“Please,” Dill said instantly, “we’d really enjoy your joining us for the rehearsal dinner.”
Jack did the polite thing and declined, mentioning the important family occasion and the fact that he had arrived unannounced.
Dill repeated his invitation. Social Ping-Pong.
When Varena joined in, Jack allowed himself to be persuaded.
He retired to sit at the back of the church. My eyes followed him every inch of the way.
We walked through the ceremony again. I went through my paces on autopilot. Patsy Green reminded me again to smile. This time she sounded a little sharper.
I was thinking hard during the rest of the rehearsal, but I couldn’t come to any conclusion. Could it possibly be true that Jack was here for me? He had admitted he had another reason, but he’d said he was coming here anyway. If that was true . . .
But it was too painful to believe.
Jack had already been here when Dr. LeMay and Binnie Armstrong were done to death. So his arrival couldn’t be connected with the double murder.
“Looks like I’m too late on the scene,” Berry said to me in a pleasant way after Patsy Green and the O’Sheas agreed we had the procedure down pat. We were just outside the church doors.
“That’s so flattering of you,” I said with a genuine smile. For once, I had said the right thing. He smiled back at me.
“Lily!” Jack called. He was holding open the passenger door of his car. I couldn’t imagine why.
“Excuse me,” I told Berry and strolled over. “Since when,” I muttered, conscious of my voice carrying in the cold clear air, “have you found it necessary to hold doors for me?”
Jack looked wounded. “Darlin’, I’m your slave.” He seemed to be imitating Berry’s Delta accent.
“Don’t be an ass,” I whispered. “Seeing you is so good.
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