Unholy Matrimony by Peg Cochran Read Free Book Online Page B

down on Lucille like a force-five tornado and grabbed her arm.
    “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
    “What’s the matter?”
    “I’m so pissed I could spit.”
    “What happened? Did he try to get fresh?” Lucille had been watching the whole time and hadn’t seen nothing, but maybe it was something the guy had said that had Flo in such a tizzy.
    Flo pushed open the door, and they both stood for a moment blinking in the light. They were heading toward the car, Flo making astonishing progress in her stiletto heels, when Lucille grabbed her arm.
    “Out with it. Tell Auntie Lucille what happened.”
    Flo’s face crumpled, and she began digging in her handbag for a tissue. She pulled one out and dabbed at her eyes, smearing her mascara under them so that she looked like she’d just surfaced from the depths of a coal mine.
    “Was it something he said?”
    Flo shook her head and said, “Yes,” as she held the crumpled and lipstick-stained tissue to her mouth.
    “What did he say?” Lucille was tempted to glance at her watch. They were losing time here.
    “He said . . . he thought . . . he thought I was one of those men who like to dress up as a woman. You know, in drag like. A transvestite.” And Flo burst into renewed tears.

Chapter 7
     
     
    Flo sniffled all the way back to the church. Lucille figured she couldn’t see none too good on account of the tears in her eyes, what with her nearly sideswiping a bright red truck she swore she didn’t notice, not to mention the red light she blew through and the pedestrian who was forced to make a mad dash back to the safety of the sidewalk.
    “Looks like Taylor doesn’t have no alibi for his mother’s murder,” Flo said as they turned onto South Street.
    “So? That don’t mean he had anything to do with it.”
    “Come on, Lu. Surely you don’t want Bernadette marrying that little creep.”
    Lucille’s jaw jutted forward and she clenched her teeth. “Well, what can she do, seeing as how your son ,” Lucille put a heavy emphasis on the words, “refuses to make an honest woman of her.”
    Flo gave Lucille a dirty look, stomped on the gas, and they rocketed into the parking lot. The lot was full and they could hear music drifting out the open door of the church hall. Lucille was surprised to see that police cars were still parked in front of the church itself. She thought they’d be done by now.
    “This is the first time I’ve been to a wedding reception without a wedding,” Flo said pointedly as they entered the crowded room.
    “Don’t remind me.”
    The band was playing and everyone was dancing the tarantella. Lucille watched for a minute. Her mother was dancing with Mrs. De Stefano—it was considered bad luck to dance the tarantella without a partner—and Frank was spinning Rose, his second cousin once removed, around. Steering was more like it. Rose was more than a little overweight.
    “You know,” she said and turned to Flo, “I don’t think an Italian wedding is legit unless the couple dances the tarantella. It’s like the final blessing. I just wish Bernadette and Taylor were dancing it together right this minute.” Lucille wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
    A group of women came out of the ladies’ room. “Boy, do I feel better,” one of them said. “That girdle was killing me.”
    “You must be starved.” Flo put a hand on Lucille’s arm. “Why don’t you get something to eat. I could use a drink myself.”
    “Good idea. I might be getting that low blood sugar they’re always talking about, seeing as how I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning.”
    Lucille made her way to the buffet table but all she found were a bunch of bare plates and empty lasagna pans. Everything had already been eaten. She felt her stomach rumble. Maybe she ought to start that new diet today—today could be her fasting day. Surely the pancakes and coffee cake this morning didn’t add up to the 800 calories you were allowed. She bet