Page 2 of A Rose of Steel
“Piper Alvarez!” the bride squeaked. “That’s my baby’s daddy you’re talking about. He’s got to be around a long time for us.”
“Then you had better learn to take care of him,” Piper said. “He’s not invincible, you know.” Piper fingered her thin blonde hair.
“He’s going to be taking care ofher,” Marilee said.
“You know he’s going to the NFL,” Tonya said. “As soon as he graduates from USC, and then Jorianne and her baby will have everything they could possibly want.”
“I’m just saying,” Piper said and shrugged. She spoke without looking at anyone, but didn’t back down. Her petite, upturned nose and her brow wrinkled at the conversation. She ran her tongue on her dry, colorless lips. “Marriage is a partnership, you know.”
Jorianne looked around the room then let a perturbed eye land on Piper. She walked over to her and plastered a fake smile on her face. “We just gotta get through today, lil’ sis,” Jorianne said. “I want my wedding day to be happy for everyone. Especially family. Maybe just today you can try not to tip over the outhouse. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” Piper said and gave Jorianne the same bogus smile. “I can do that.”
“Here,” Jorianne said, handing her the tube of lip-gloss. “Put a little of this on. Give yourself some color.” She turned around and walked back over by the window. I watched Piper lay the gloss on a nearby table without using it.
“And that’s why I asked Dr. Wilder to come in,” the bride continued, rubbing her hand over her stomach, she nodded my way. “Sheisa real doctor, Marilee. Miss Babet told me. And I was thinking that maybe she could do something to help Bumper.” She looked at me. “Can you?”
“Sure she can, Jorianne,” Auntie Zanne spoke for me. She wore her white hair tapered in the back and high on top. And playing her part to the hilt, she wore a clergy collar, black skirt, and low-heel black pumps. “She’ll give him a once over.” Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. “And while she does that you girls finish getting ready. It’s nearly time to get started.” Auntie clicked her nail on her watch crystal.
“Right!” Jorianne squealed and jumped up and down, placing a hand underneath her belly. “Because I’m getting married!”
That brought laughter back into the room and gave us an exit. Auntie pulled me into the hallway and shut the door behind us.
“That boy’s symptoms are probably due to him being at the long end of the proverbial shotgun,” I said.
“Bonnie Alvarez doesn’t have a shotgun, she carries a snub-nose, Smith & Wesson revolver, and I had her check it at the gate when she arrived, just like everybody else.” Auntie Zanne took off down the hall back into the kitchen. “I won’t abide by any shenanigans during my first time officiating,” she said over a shoulder.
“This wedding isn’t about you, Auntie,” I said catching up with her in the kitchen.
“It’s at my funeral home. My house. It’s about me.”
“How did they choose this place to have the ceremony anyway?” I asked as I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“I gave them a deal,” she said matter-of-factly. “Discount on the arrangements for their great uncle who died last month if they had it here.”
“Auntie,” I said and chuckled. “That’s despicable.”
“That’s business, darlin’.” My Auntie Zanne had a special relationship with her dead clients—she talked to them and she believed they talked back to her. And she let everyone know about it, not worried in the least how crazy it sounded. “Plus,” she continued, “Jorianne was happy to do it, it was one of my brews that sealed the deal with her and her little old high school sweetheart.”
A look of semi-shock washed over my face. “She came to you for a love potion?”
“Why do you say it like that? A lot of people do.”
“You shouldn’t put such nonsense in young peoples’ heads. You and your magic, hocus pocus.”
“Pshaw!” She waved a hand at me. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Auntie,” I said, speaking to her as if she were a child. “It might have had to do with her being pregnant. You ever thought about that?”
“Lots of people get pregnant,” she said. “How many of them get married?” She raised her eyebrows. “This ain’t 1958, kiddo.” She pushed up next to me and rubbed my back. “You should pick out a guy for me to give a cup to.” She gave a firm nod. “You might be the next one standing at the altar in front of me.”
“That will never happened.” I rolled my eyes.
“What? You’ll never get married?” She covered her heart with her hand.
“You marrying me,” I said. “I’ll get a real preacher for that.” I patted her on her cheek. “And, I’m steering away from this whole thing. I’m on my way to the new ME’s office. I’ve got a delivery I can’t miss.”
“You’re not staying for the wedding?”
