Unholy Matrimony Read Online Free Page B

do the same. Donna had wanted the reception to be black tie but Lucille had put her foot down. If the men wore black ties it would look like a funeral, not a wedding.
    Lucille was about to leave when she noticed Millie’s cardigan draped over the kitchen chair. Millie was always cold—said the central air gave her a headache. Lucille had turned it down, and now no one was happy. Millie was still cold, and she, Frank and Bernadette were sweating. She really had to get the Grabowskis to reconsider about the house. Maybe if she gave Donna a call and sweet-talked her a bit. Donna always did like being complimented. Lucille picked up the phone and quickly dialed Donna’s cell phone. It rang and rang but no one picked up. Lucille sighed. Maybe she could have a word with Donna at the wedding. It couldn’t hurt.
    Heat and humidity hit Lucille the minute she opened the garage door. She was going to have to ask Rita to go heavy on the spray if her hair was going to hold. At least it was sunny. Donna wanted the photographer to take some pictures outside, and Lucille couldn’t imagine the entire wedding party traipsing around in the rain.
    Lucille glanced back at the house. She hoped Bernadette was getting ready. She’d asked Frankie to talk to her. Hopefully he had been able to get her to change her mind.
    Lucille hung her dress in the backseat of the car. She planned on getting dressed at the church, but first she had to stop by the mall to pick up a pair of pantyhose. She thought she had a pair in the back of her lingerie drawer, but she couldn’t find them.
    The Olds started on the first try. Lucille breathed a sigh of relief and, plugging in her tape of Little Richard performing “Lucille,” shot down the driveway and headed off.
    The Short Hills Mall was busy but Lucille managed to find a parking space. She almost never went to the mall—too fancy for her—and she wasn’t sure where to start.
    Even the air in the place smelled expensive. Lucille wandered around for a bit before deciding on Macy’s. Then it took forever to find the hosiery section. It seemed like hardly no one wore pantyhose anymore, and there wasn’t much of a selection. Lucille hesitated. Was she a medium/large or large/extra large? There was a chart on the back of the package but Lucille couldn’t read it on account of she’d left her reading glasses in the car.
    Lucille glanced at her watch. It was getting late and she wanted to have time to check on the food. Mrs. De Stefano and Mrs. De Pasquale made the best tomato sauce and lasagna in town, but they rarely agreed on anything. Lucille wanted to make sure they weren’t going to arrive after the ceremony to find one or the other of them knocked out cold on the floor and nothing done about the meal.
    She grabbed both packages and went up to the cashier.
     
    • • •
     
    The ladies at the Clip and Curl clustered around Lucille as soon as she pushed open the door. It was always like that when someone came in to get their hair done before a wedding—all the hairdressers and even some of the clients would gather around and beg for details. Normally Lucille would have basked in the attention, but today she just wanted to get out of there. The thought that Bernadette might not go through with the ceremony was giving her indigestion.
    She felt around in the pocket of her pants and pulled out an antacid tablet. She brushed off the lint and popped it into her mouth.
    Carmela chattered all the while she was washing Lucille’s hair: what color were the flowers, how many bridesmaids, what was Bernadette’s gown like. Lucille was only half listening—all she could think about was how her stomach was churning and her nerves were on edge. She slipped a hand into her pocket, but that had been the last of the antacids.
    “What are we going to do?” Rita asked, comb poised in the air, after Lucille had been led over to her station.
    “What?”
    Rita laughed. “You’ve got mother-of-the-bride jitters.