I look up and grin. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the quiet, because I bet it's the last we'll have it for a while."
Duncan laces our fingers back the way they'd been. "Bring it on, Kimberly Ann."
“Bride to Be” is printed in sparkling font on Scarlett’s bright white sash. Although she’s already had numerous bridal showers and even a bachelorette party, Sheila, Scarlett’s older sister, decided we all needed girl-time tonight. She also decided that the best place to do that would be down the street from where the guys are holding Kurt's bachelor party.
We’re in downtown Indianapolis at an incredibly popular hangout. The place is packed and the music is blaring. By the way Shelia is downing her drinks, I would venture to guess that there’s more to tonight than meets the eye. More than likely, Sheila is as interested in keeping an eye on her husband as she is in partying with her sister and cousins.
Truthfully, I don’t want to be here, surrounded by thousands and thousands of race fans. I also don’t want to go down the street and check on Jimmy, Sheila’s husband. I don't want to find out if he's watching the dancers and not touching.
The real reason I don't want to be here is that I don't want to know what Duncan is doing. I keep telling myself this is pretend. I know we aren't really boyfriend and girlfriend. I know that come Tuesday at work, my carriage will turn back into a pumpkin and I'll only have one shoe.
It's a crappy analogy, but it works.
This fairytale, this fantasy that being with him creates, will be over. So what if he drinks with my brother and cousins and touches some dancer? Before this weekend, before I asked him to come here with me and be my plus-one, before I blackmailed him, he was touching some office slut in the women's bathroom. I doubt he'll have the willpower or restraint to turn down some good-looking dancer wanting to give him a lap dance.
Nevertheless, if I don't see it, I can pretend.
"Kimmmberly," Sheila whispers as my name elongates in a twist of her thick tongue. "Let's go, you and I, next door and make sure Kurt is behaving." Her words slur together. Although Scarlett, our cousin Jillian, and I have all been sipping our first Long Island iced teas of the night and Susan is drinking Coke, Sheila is on her second pitcher. That's how they serve them at this club, in little individual pitchers.
"I'm sure Kurt is fine," I say, even though I know she's not worried about Kurt. Finding her husband, Jimmy, in a compromising position is not high on my to-do list.
"Oh, come on," she continues with her head bobbing. "You're the hotshot, the big-city businesswoman with the good-looking, rich boyfriend. I'm sure if Kurt is doing anything to enjoy his last night of unmarried freedom, you can boss them all around and make it stop." She nods in agreement with her own words as she takes another long drink of her Long Island. "You always have been the bossy one."
"What?" I ask, more than slightly offended. It has always been Sheila who bossed the rest of the cousins around, always saying she was older and had that right. Apparently, as older approaches thirty, it's no longer a badge of honor.
"Don't listen to her," Scarlett whispers. She pulls me away from the high-top table, leaving Sheila whispering to Jillian and Susan. "Kimbra, thanks for coming home. It means a lot." She tilts her head back toward Sheila. "She's...well...she and Jimmy have had some tough times lately."
And seeing her perfect sister have the perfect wedding...I don't say that. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if all the activities have added to Sheila and Jimmy's problems.
Nevertheless, it isn’t Scarlett’s fault that Sheila married right out of high school. And it isn’t her fault that Sheila hasn’t become pregnant for a second time. According to my mom, what she heard from Aunt Laura—Sheila and Scarlett’s mom—is that Sheila and Jimmy's difficulty becoming pregnant for a second child has reawakened issues in their marriage.
Their little girl is five and cute as can be. She’ll be Scarlett’s flower girl. But Jimmy wants a boy.
"It happens," I say, acknowledging Jimmy and Sheila's issues.
Scarlett rubs my shoulder lovingly. "I'm so glad you finally found someone who puts up with you. And he's handsome too!"
I know she means that as a compliment, but it doesn't sound like one.
"Can you...?" She glances back at Sheila who wipes her cheek. "Can you go down the street? I shouldn't and it would be better if she didn't."
"Fine," I say, biting back all the things I want to say. I deserve some kind of medal for my restraint. "I'll go."
My thoughts fill, wavering between compassion and resentment, as I grab my purse, leave my family, and weave through the maze of tables and people. Maybe, just maybe, the perfect lives that everyone seems to live here aren’t all they appear.
Maybe in some way I envy what Scarlett is about to have. And perhaps Duncan is right, and in their own way, my family envies me.
The addition of nearly half a million people to the Indianapolis area for the 500 race makes navigating the bar as well as the downtown sidewalk seem less like Indiana and more like Times Square. I think again about how stupid it is to have a wedding this weekend, but then again, Scarlett wasn't thinking of her guests when she planned the date.
My ears ring with the change in decibels as I make my way out of our bar and down the street to the club. Though it isn't as loud, even on the sidewalk, music fills the air.
The line to get in to the upscale gentlemen’s club is at least half a block long. Instead of waiting, I go up to the large, muscular man standing near the entrance. The bouncer looks me up and down as I plead my case. "Sir, can you help me? My cousin's fiancé is in there. We're over there…” I point to the bar I just left. “…and she's freaking out. I've tried to call him and my boyfriend, but I don't think they can hear their phones. Can I please run in, just for a minute? I need to tell him what's happening. Otherwise, a big fucking wedding that's scheduled for tomorrow could be ruined."
The tall man with dark skin and deep brown eyes again looks me up and down. I’m wearing a short sundress with cowboy boots. It’s hardly the attire of the women inside.
"Please?" I ask, biting my lip.
Before he answers, he pushes a button on a radio-type thing attached to his shoulder and mumbles something to someone else. After a moment, he looks back to me and nods. "Okay, make it quick."
"Thank you!"
He lifts the rope and I rush inside, pushing my way through all the people. The patrons are mostly men, but not all. There are women in skimpy skirts with big hair. Some wait tables while others show more individualized attention to the patrons. The women who are here to watch the dancers all appear too enthralled in the show to notice me.
The music grows louder and the bass vibrates the floor as I make my way toward the main stage. From a distance, I see Duncan first. My feet forget to move and breath catches in my chest as I watch the woman at their table.
Duncan is shaking his head no and pushing cash toward the woman. Kurt, Kevin, and Justin, Jillian's boyfriend, have their backs to me. I can tell by Kurt's body language that this isn't his idea of fun. I'm undecided about Kevin and Justin. And then I see Sheila's husband, Jimmy. He's throwing cash toward the stage and cat-calling. Though I recognize his loud, booming voice and domineering tone, I can't actually hear what he's saying over the loud music.