Chapter 4
The parking lot behind the venue was white gravel and heat. It shimmered off the cars and stung my eyes after the shade of the pergola. Mark's hand was still on my back as we came around the stone wall, and then I saw her.
Jessica stood by my old Honda, still in her dusty-rose bridesmaid dress. She'd kicked off her heels and stood barefoot on the hot gravel, holding her phone with both hands like she was bracing herself. Her makeup had run a little under her eyes. When she saw us, she straightened up too fast.
"You left the suite," she said. "Dad said you locked it."
I didn't answer right away. The air smelled like sunscreen and hot stone and exhaust from the catering van idling two rows over. A cicada buzzed somewhere in the trees beyond the lot. My bouquet was still in the suite safe with the check, but my hands remembered the weight of it.
"You talked to Dad before the ceremony," I said. "Mark heard him call you."
Mark stayed a half-step behind me, close enough that I felt him there, but he didn't speak. He'd taken off his jacket in the suite and his white rose boutonniere was a little wilted at the edge. I kept my eyes on Jessica.
Her throat moved. "He called me this morning. At like nine. I was getting my hair done."
"What did he say?" I asked.
She swallowed. "He said he had it handled. That the check was basically ours. That you and Mark wouldn't mind because you guys have savings."
The words landed flat and ugly in the bright lot. I felt my face go hot despite the sun.
"He told you to ask for it?" Mark said quietly.
Jessica shook her head quickly, then stopped. "Not exactly. He told me not to worry. That he'd ask for me. I told him not to. I told him it was your wedding day and not to do that."
She held out her phone before I could answer. Her hand shook a little. The screen was bright in the sun and I had to cup my hand over it to read.
The texts were from Ray, timed 9:42 AM, 10:15 AM, 11:03 AM.
Jessica don't worry about rent. Got check handled today.
Your boyfriend needs to cover that debt before his bookie does something stupid. I'll make sure Lauren understands family comes first.
Don't say anything to Lauren before. Better as surprise. She'll say yes in front of everyone.
I read the second one twice. Boyfriend. Debt. Bookie. Not diapers, not nursery paint, not the story Ray had shouted under the pergola about my sister needing it more.
"Gambling debt?" I said, and my voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to.
Jessica's eyes filled. "It's Kyle," she whispered. "He owes like eight grand to a guy from his warehouse job. Poker games after shift. It got bad last month. He said the guy came to our apartment."
I looked at Mark, then back at her. The gravel bit into my bare feet through my stockings. I hadn't realized I'd slipped my shoes off too.
"So Dad wasn't giving you the check for the baby," I said.
"No." She wiped under her eye with the back of her hand and left a gray smear. "I mean, yeah, the baby's coming, but that's not why he pushed. He promised Kyle he'd get the money today. He told Kyle he could get your honeymoon check. I told him not to promise that. I told him it wasn't his to promise."
"Why didn't you tell me he called?" I asked.
"Because I was scared," she said, all in one breath. "If I told you, Dad would be mad at me. If I didn't tell you, you'd be mad at me. I just stood there in the line and hoped he wouldn't actually do it. Then he did."
Mark shifted his weight. "Jessica, did Dad tell Kyle to come here?"
"No. I told Kyle to stay home. He's not here." She looked at me, pleading. "Lauren, I didn't want it like this. I swear. I didn't want Dad to yell at you under those flowers in front of everyone."
The catering van door slammed and made us both flinch. A server carried a tray of water glasses toward the venue. For a second none of us moved.
I felt the anger I'd been holding toward her start to slide and turn. It didn't disappear, but it changed shape. She wasn't standing there demanding anything. She was barefoot in a parking lot, holding a phone full of texts from our dad telling her to stay quiet, caught between a boyfriend's debt and a father who used her as leverage.
"He used you," I said.
Jessica nodded, and a tear finally spilled over. "He said if I didn't go along he'd tell Mom's sister I was irresponsible. He always does that."
I reached out before I thought about it and took her cold hand. Her fingers squeezed mine hard.
"We're not giving him the check," I said. "Not like that. Not for Kyle's bookie."
"I know," she whispered. "I don't want it that way either."
Behind us, near the stone arch that led back to the pergola, I heard raised voices. Ray's voice, loud and sharp, and another man's calmer one answering him. Mark turned his head toward the sound.
Jessica looked panicked. "He's still here, isn't he?"
Mark nodded once, his jaw tight. The white rose on his shirt caught the sun.
May you like
"He's arguing with the venue manager," he said.
I didn't let go of Jessica's hand. The heat pressed down on the lot, and I understood now exactly who had been pressuring who.
