Wedding Bell Blues (22 page)

She took the world’s fastest shower and shampoo. When she came out of her bedroom, Pete was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a sticky bun. Mom appeared to have developed a new set of lines on her forehead. Pete looked like he was trying unsuccessfully to be invisible.

“We’ve got some wedding stuff to take care of,” Janie said briskly as she propelled Pete toward the front door. “I probably won’t be home for dinner. Don’t wait up.”

Pete slowed as they reached the front walk. “Should I ask what that was all about?”

She shook her head. “Trust me, don’t. What about your mother? Did anybody tell her about last night?”

He grimaced. “I didn’t. Maybe Cal did. It would be just like him to take it on since Lars isn’t exactly in shape to do it himself.”

“Have you seen Lars this morning?”

“Not yet.” Pete’s mouth compressed in a thin line. “Let’s go see if Sherice is receiving visitors.”

The Gasthaus was one of the better motels in Konigsburg, but probably not as plush as the hotels Sherice usually stayed in. Pete pulled up outside the entrance to the courtyard. He and Janie sat for a moment in silence, steeling themselves.

“Would you like me to do this?” Pete asked. “You don’t really need to be there. I’m used to Sherice by now.”

Janie shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to face her, for better or worse. I told Docia we’d take care of things, and I’m part of that ‘we’.”

“Okay.” Pete squared his shoulders. “Let’s go see how bad this is going to be.”

Lars and Sherice had a room facing into the courtyard with its oak-tree-edged pool. Pete moved up the covered walkway and then stopped.

Lars was sitting in a lawn chair in front of the door to his room. His eyes were closed—Pete wasn’t sure whether he was asleep or meditating. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Morning, Lars.”

Lars opened his eyes a little blearily. Pete wondered if he’d had anything to eat since the hamburger at the Dew Drop last night.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

Pete hunkered down beside him. “You had any coffee yet?”

Lars shrugged. “Something in the room that was advertised as coffee. Between you and me, I think you could make the case that it was potentially lethal.”

Pete chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question.

“She’s not in there,” Lars grunted, closing his eyes again.

Pete frowned. “What?”

“Sherice. She took off sometime last night. All her clothes are gone.” Lars opened his eyes again, his forehead furrowing. “Well, not all of them, I guess.”

Behind him, Pete heard Janie inhale sharply. “Did she take the matron of honor dress with her?”

There was a long pause, then Lars shook his head. “It’s in the closet.”

Janie blew out a relieved breath. “We need to get it. Is it okay if we go in?”

Lars didn’t open his eyes. He nodded slowly. “Go ahead.”

Pete waited a moment longer, frowning. He’d expected Lars to be upset, but
upset
wasn’t exactly the right word for this. He pushed himself to his feet and opened the door for Janie.

Inside, the room smelled slightly stale. Sunlight leaked through the window blinds, reflecting off the dancing dust motes. Janie headed toward the closet door. “She’s got both dresses, you know, the matron’s dress and the bridesmaid dress that Reba had flown in for her. But I don’t think she ever got the alterations done on the matron’s dress. I hope not anyway.” She opened the door and started to reach inside as Lars appeared in the doorway behind them.

The sound she made tipped Pete off—that faint gasp of distress.

“Janie?” He stepped toward her.

Janie reached slowly into the closet. He couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were trembling.

He stepped closer. “What’s happening?”

“Why?” Janie whispered. “Why would she do this?”

Pete looked over her shoulder into the small closet. The two dresses hung side by side. A rip extended from the middle of the bodice to the hem of each dress, threads dangling from the jagged edges. It looked as if Sherice had simply sliced each dress in half before hanging what was left of them neatly on their hangers.

“That isn’t all she did.” Lars pushed the sliding doors down to the other end of the closet. “She was very thorough.”

His tuxedo hung in tatters, the vest, coat and pants all ripped apart.

Pete sat on the end of the bed, staring into the closet. “I gather she was pissed.”

Lars shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe this was just a parting shot. I need to go home, bro.” He raised his red-rimmed gaze to Pete.

Pete shook his head. “Why? What’s waiting for you there? Aren’t you better off here?”

“Daisy’s there.” Lars closed his eyes again. “I don’t want Sherice to get her. I don’t trust her not to grab Daisy and take off somewhere without letting me know where they are. The perfect revenge.”

Pete stared down at his hands. No way he could argue with that. “Cal will miss you.” To say nothing of Mom. Pete sighed, thinking of the battles on the horizon.

“Cal understands. We’ve already talked about it—I called him just before you got here. And it’s not like I can be in the wedding now, anyway, right?” Lars looked back at his shredded tuxedo.

Pete glanced up at Janie. She still stared into the closet, her hands balled in fists at her sides. As he watched, her shoulders began to tremble again.

Uh oh.

Pete got up quickly, moving to put his arms around her. Janie leaned against him for a moment, then drew a shuddering breath. “Looks like Plan A just went all to hell.”

Pete nodded, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“Any ideas?” Janie raised her wide eyes to his.

Pete started to shake his head when he heard the sounds of footsteps headed their way. “Close the closet door,” he said quickly.

The front door swung open without any knock, and Pete stared into the bright sun suddenly filling the room. A man stood silhouetted in the light, a familiar shape. His broad shoulders blocked the sunlight momentarily—one hand was tucked behind him.

“Lars?” the man said.

“Dad?” Lars pushed himself slowly to his feet.

Pete stared up at his father’s face, darkened by the dazzling sunlight at his back. He felt a sudden wave of relief, almost as if he were still twelve years old and his father had arrived to save him from the results of his most recent stupidity. “I thought you weren’t due for another day.”

His father shrugged. “I finished up early. And I brought another guest for the wedding. Hope that’s okay.”

A small figure was suddenly silhouetted alongside him, blinking in the sunlight. Pete heard Lars catch his breath.

“Daisy,” he murmured. “Oh, baby, it’s so good to see you.”

He knelt in front of his daughter, pulling her into his embrace.

“Da!” Daisy crowed, grabbing his nose. She giggled as he swept her up into the air.

Pete’s eyes prickled while his chest constricted. He looked down to see Janie watching father and daughter. Her eyes were suspiciously bright. “Maybe we should go get a cup of coffee.”

“That sounds good.” His father put an arm around Janie’s shoulders. “C’mon, sweetheart, you can tell me exactly who you are and what the hell happened to this nice little wedding I was supposed to be part of.”

Chapter Sixteen

Looking at Asa Toleffson, Janie had a very clear idea about where the Toleffson boys got their size. He loomed over one side of the table at the Coffee Corral in the same way Pete loomed over the other. She suddenly felt a little like a munchkin.

Asa’s thick sable hair was sprinkled with gray, but his eyes were the same dark, velvety color as Pete’s. He was still a remarkably good-looking man. Janie wondered if Pete would look like that when he was in his sixties.

Asa took a swallow of coffee and sighed. “Good stuff. Not up to Norwegian standards, maybe, but still good.”

“Konigsburg’s German,” Janie explained. “I don’t know how they feel about coffee.”

Asa shrugged. “Lots of sugar and cream, I imagine.”

“Okay, Pop, how’d you get Daisy down here?” Pete leaned forward on his elbows. “I thought Sherice had parked her with her relatives.”

“Sherice’s mother called me a couple of days ago. She had a chance to go to Las Vegas with some friends for a week. Asked if I’d look after Daisy.” Asa shrugged. “I never understood why Sherice didn’t want her here. Little girls like weddings, don’t they?”

He paused to inhale part of a kolache. “I guess bringing Daisy along was a better idea than I realized. I haven’t seen Lars looking that bad since he was in college. And that was only during Homecoming.”

Pete narrowed his eyes. “How much do you know?”

Asa shrugged. “Basically nothing. But I’m guessing the situation’s not good. Maybe you can start by telling me why Sherice wasn’t in their room.”

Pete had a gift for summary, Janie realized. Maybe it went along with being a lawyer. Asa said nothing as Pete ran through the events of the previous week, but his expression became progressively darker as Pete described last night, or rather the part of last night that didn’t involve their activities in Pete’s bedroom.

When Pete had finished, Asa sat shaking his head. “Well, damn, son. You tell your mother any of this?”

“No. Cal may have, but I haven’t checked in with her yet.”

“Best get me over there, then.” Asa started to rise from his chair. “Somebody needs to fill her in, fast.”

“You didn’t see Mom when you got here?” Pete raised an eyebrow.

“Just for a few minutes.” Asa’s expression changed slightly, but Janie didn’t know him well enough to interpret what was going on.

Pete’s brow furrowed as he stared at his father. “What’s up, Pop?”

“We’ll get into that later. For now, I need to go talk to Millie. You want to come along in case she has any questions?”

Janie reached over to touch Pete’s arm. “Go ahead. I’ll go relieve Docia at the bookstore for a while.”

“Don’t tell her about the dresses yet, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to take that on by myself.”

She watched the two Toleffsons walk out of the Coffee Corral, then looked around the room. Every woman was turned toward the door. A couple of them wore slightly dazed expressions, as if they’d just seen something so amazing they weren’t sure it was real.

If nothing else, the Toleffson family had definitely spiced up the fantasy life of Konigsburg’s female population.

Pete told himself to relax as they approached the bed and breakfast where his mother was staying. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe Cal had already talked to her. And maybe he could get a side of fries with that large order of denial.

His mother was sitting in the dining room, a folded newspaper beside her breakfast plate. Pete had the feeling she hadn’t gotten much reading done, though.

His father took a chair across from her, reaching a large hand to cover hers. “Well, Millie, looks like we’ve got ourselves a real mess here.”

His mother raised her gaze to his, blinking. “Yes, we do. Poor Lars. And poor Sherice.”

Pete felt as if he’d taken a cannonball in his stomach. He collapsed into the chair opposite her. “Poor Sherice?”

“Every story has two sides, Peter.” His mother’s lips thinned. “She stopped here this morning on her way out of town.”

“Why would she stop to see you?”

“I imagine because she wanted me to hear her side of it before I started hearing all the other versions.” His mother picked up her cup of coffee from the table in front of her, her brow furrowing.

Pete’s chest constricted further, if that were possible. “Sherice’s version? Oh, this ought to be good!”

“Now that’s just why she came here.” His mother’s chin came up mutinously. “That kind of attitude. At least I was willing to listen when nobody else was.”

“Well, Otto sure as hell did,” Pete muttered.

“Peter.” His father’s voice was sharp. “Shut up for a minute. Okay, Millie, what was Sherice’s story this time?”

“She said she went to that bachelorette party with Docia, but some woman insulted her, so she had to leave.”

Some woman
. Pete pressed his lips together, fighting the red surge of anger. It wouldn’t help to yell at his mother. He knew that from long experience.

His father gave him a quick warning glance. “What happened next?”

“Well—” his mother looked down at her coffee cup again, “—I guess they’d been drinking a lot at that bachelorette party.”

His father nodded. “And?”

“And Sherice and Lars haven’t been getting along…” His mother still wasn’t looking up. Pete had a feeling even she wasn’t buying this part of Sherice’s story.

“So anyway this Otto person came along as she was walking back to her motel and offered her a ride. Then he lured her into…well…petting, I guess.”

“Lured?” His father’s eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline.

“Petting?” Pete croaked.

His mother shrugged. “Sherice said she didn’t know what came over her. She’d never done anything like that before.” She finally looked up at his father, her mouth a tight line again. “She said she’s very sorry.”

“Mom…” Pete found it difficult to talk through clenched teeth.

His father gave him another level glance. “Pete, don’t you have wedding stuff you need to do with Ms. Dupree? Don’t worry. We’ll work this out.”

Pete blew out an acrid breath and headed out the door to find Cal.
Better you than me, Pop, better you than me.

Janie hadn’t had too much trouble keeping the news about the dresses from Docia. The shop had been busy, and she had the feeling Docia didn’t really want to think about anything else just then anyway.

Janie didn’t want to think about it either, but of course she had no choice. She spent the morning fending off the mingled sympathy and curiosity of all the Konigsburg customers. By mid-afternoon her face ached from maintaining her blandest smile.

Around four, Lars walked in, looking happier than she’d seen him look since he’d arrived in Konigsburg. His daughter rode on his shoulders, her chubby fingers knotted in his dark hair.