Sisters and Husbands (2 page)

“Charmaine,” Mama said as she put the phone to her ear.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” Evelyn said as she placed her Fendi handbag on the coffee table. “Charmaine called just before
I left the house. She’s running late because Valerie called crying and carrying on.”

“Uh-oh,” Mama said. She snapped her cell phone shut.

“What happened?” Beverly asked.

“Valerie and Otis had a big blowup last night, and now Valerie’s too upset to come here today. She wants to be fitted another
time.”

Mama sighed loudly.

“That sounds serious,” Beverly said, frowning. “Wonder why she didn’t call me.” Valerie was Beverly’s somewhat kooky, motor-mouth,
astrology-loving best friend, and they told each other just about everything.

“She probably didn’t want to upset you by talking about having a big fight with her fiancé on the day you’re being fitted
for your wedding dress,” Mama said. “She’s trying to be a good friend to you.”

And she might also be embarrassed, Beverly thought. Valerie was forty-one years old and had been itching to get married again
ever since her first marriage right after high school fizzled within two years. She and Valerie had both recently gotten engaged
at about the same time and had originally planned a double wedding. Then about a week ago, Valerie changed her mind about
them getting married together, saying she thought the whole idea was too corny for a couple of mature brides.

Beverly had suspected that Valerie was actually worried that Beverly would call off her wedding at the last minute. Valerie’s
decision not to have a double wedding had disappointed Beverly at first, but she got over it. How could she argue? She
had
broken off no less than two previous engagements—one about five years ago, the other a year before she met Julian. So Beverly
and Valerie decided that Beverly would get married at the end of June, and Valerie would walk down the aisle a few weeks later.
Now it looked as if Valerie’s wedding might be the one called off, and Valerie was too ashamed to tell her.

“I agree with Ma,” Evelyn said. “She’s trying to be considerate of you.”

Beverly nodded with understanding. “She’s probably crushed. I’ll have to call her as soon as we’re done here.”

“Girls, my heart goes out to Valerie,” Mama said. “But I don’t think this is the time or the place to dwell on that. This
is Beverly’s moment. We should think happy, positive thoughts. And you need to get into your dress, Evelyn. It’s up there
on the rack.”

The seamstress paused and stood to help Evelyn pick her gown out from among the three coral satin bridesmaid gowns hanging
on a rack.

“Ma is so jittery,” Beverly said to Evelyn. “I think she’s afraid I’ll chicken out.”

“Can you blame her?” Evelyn asked, folding her dress over her arm. “You have commitment issues.”

Beverly’s hands flew to her waist indignantly. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Anyone who’s thirty-nine years old and never been married has commitment issues,” Evelyn said. “You’re as bad as Julia Roberts
in
Runaway Bride
.”

“Did you hear me?” Beverly asked. “I’m agreeing with you. At least I’m doing something about it. I’m committing for real this
time. And I need to remind you, I never waited until days or hours before the wedding to call it off.”

“No, only two weeks,” Evelyn said sarcastically, just before ducking behind the curtain leading into the dressing room.

“The last one was eleven days before,” Mama added.

Beverly smiled guiltily. “That’s better than going through with it if I’m not sure.”

Mama nodded. “I agree. It’s still nerve-racking. Not to mention expensive. Be glad you have such a loving father.”

Now
that
made Beverly feel bad. Both times she had backed out before, her parents lost a couple of thousand nonrefundable dollars
that they had put down on the reception hall. Beverly had offered to reimburse them, but her father refused to take her money,
saying he’d rather lose a few bucks than have his daughter marry the wrong man. Still, her folks were in their mid-seventies
and living on retirement plans. They didn’t need a confused daughter wasting their money. “Sorry about that, Ma, but you don’t
have to worry this time. Julian’s a keeper.”

“It’s not Julian I’m worried about,” Mama said, giving Beverly a pointed look. “I can see how much he loves you.”

“I’m definitely not going to change my mind this time. I think I finally got it right. No, I
know
I did.”

“I sure hope so,” Mama said.

Isabella stepped back. “All done. What do you think? Everything okay?”

Beverly twirled around slowly as her mother looked on proudly.

“It’s beautiful,” Mama said.

“I’m definitely feeling this,” Beverly said as she admired the dress. “You do outstanding work, Isabella.”

“So how many more fittings today?” Isabella asked as Beverly stepped down from the podium.

“We have her two sisters for the bridesmaid dresses,” Mama explained. “Evelyn just went into the dressing room, and Charmaine
is on her way. Unfortunately the matron of honor won’t be coming. We’ll have to reschedule her.”

Evelyn exited the dressing room in her bridesmaid gown and stepped up onto the podium as Beverly went in to change. Beverly
walked out a few minutes later in jeans and a blue-and-white-striped top just as Charmaine parted the curtains and blew into
the fitting room wearing a black form-hugging skirt slit up to the thigh.

Beverly always thought of Charmaine as a force of nature. One didn’t just see Charmaine or hear her talk. You felt her, breathed
her, experienced her. Beverly suspected that today would be no exception as Charmaine placed her hands on her hips and struck
a pose in the entryway, à la Dorothy Dandridge or Marilyn Monroe.

“I’m here, ladies!”

B
everly pointed at her watch in mock indignation. “And late as usual, I might add.”

“Sorry about that.”

“At least you’re here,” Mama said. “Now I can get going. Will my girls be all right?”

“Go on to the florist, Mama,” Beverly said as she handed her gown to Isabella. “We promise to behave.”

“
You
promise to behave,” Charmaine said, smiling slyly, her brown eyes twinkling beneath her short curly hairdo. “Just kidding,
Ma.”

Beverly and Evelyn laughed as Mama picked up her shoulder bag from the coffee table and headed for the doorway. “Don’t forget,
after you all leave here, you need to go the hotel to finalize the menu with the chef.” Mama shook her head and pinched Beverly’s
cheek playfully. “All this last-minute stuff. I swear, you better not change your mind again, girl.”

Beverly smiled, a little embarrassed, as Mama blew kisses to Charmaine and Evelyn and waved good-bye.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” Beverly said, narrowing her eyes and pointing to both of her sisters as soon as Mama left the
shop. She knew what was coming from them, especially Charmaine—relentless teasing about breaking off two previous engagements—and
she was having none of it if she could help it.

Charmaine smiled thinly. “I guess I can behave myself for one afternoon, since this is a special day for you. But you have
to let me see your dress.”

Beverly took Charmaine to the rack and showed her the gown that Isabella had just hung up.

“Nice! Put it on so I can see it on you,” Charmaine said.

Beverly shook her head. “It’s a lot of trouble getting in and out of that thing. You should have been here on time if you
wanted to see it on me.”

“It’s not my fault I’m late,” Charmaine protested. “Blame that silly-ass girlfriend of yours.”

“What happened with Valerie and Otis?” Beverly asked as she and Charmaine sat on the couch and watched Isabella pin Evelyn’s
gown at the waist.

Charmaine sat next to Beverly and kicked off her black stilettos. “She called just as I was going out the door and said they
argued last night. He shoved her and walked out.”

“You mean he put his hands on her?” Beverly asked.

Charmaine nodded. “She said she fell back and hit the wall hard enough to bruise her arm.”

Beverly gasped.

Evelyn frowned.

Even Isabella got in on it, shaking her head with stern disapproval.

Beverly knew that Otis had a hot temper, but Valerie had always said it came out only in yelling fits. “That’s just wrong.
He’s never touched her like that before.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Evelyn said. “All you know is what she tells you.”

“I think she would have told me if he had hurt her,” Beverly said.

Evelyn looked doubtful. “You never really know what goes on in a relationship behind closed doors. Trust me.”

Beverly figured that Evelyn was speaking from her experience as a psychologist, and she supposed she couldn’t argue with that.
“You’re probably right,” Beverly said. “She could be too ashamed to tell me if he’s been smacking her around.”

“It could be shame,” Evelyn said. “Or it could be something else entirely. There’s all sorts of reasons someone might not
tell you about something like that.”

“I told her, be glad that sucker is gone,” Charmaine said. “Hope he stays gone.”

“They should try therapy,” Evelyn suggested.

“You
would
think that,” Charmaine said, waving her hand in Evelyn’s direction. “But some relationships aren’t worth trying to fix. He’s
a lost cause, if you ask me. Once they put their hands on you in anger, that’s it.”

“I agree,” Beverly said.

“Still, I think she’s going to go back to him,” Charmaine said.

“I should hope not,” Beverly said. “Why do you say that?”

“I couldn’t get out of the house ’cause she was crying so hard on the phone,” Charmaine said. “Talking about how she was over
forty and not married. And how she wants the hubby and the picket fence, just like me and you, Evelyn.” Charmaine made quotation
marks in the air with her fingers. “I reminded her that I’m definitely no role model when it comes to wedded bliss. I’m on
my fourth marriage mainly ’cause I don’t take a lot of crap off these crazy brothers out here. I might put up with it for
a while, but if you keep screwing up, I’m going to kick your ass to the curb.” Charmaine snapped her fingers to make her point.

“Kevin and I are not perfect, either,” Evelyn said. “We have our share of problems.”

“Most of us would kill to have your problems, Evelyn,” Charmaine said. “Your husband is a lawyer. You live in that big fat
house. You lead a charmed life, sister.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Honestly, we’re just like everyone else. We have our ups and downs and we have to work hard to keep things
together.”

“Still, you and Kevin have a great relationship,” Beverly said. “Of course you have ups and downs, but you manage to work
things out. That’s why you’ve been married for more than twenty years. You two are my role models for marriage.”

Evelyn smiled.

“By the way, is this your Fendi here?” Charmaine lifted the designer bag sitting on the table.

Evelyn nodded, and Charmaine carefully placed the bag back down. “Uh-huh. I am so damn jealous. How much that set you back?”

Evelyn seemed to squirm on the podium, and Beverly knew what was coming. Evelyn hated it when Charmaine got to comparing their
lifestyles. In any comparison that involved money, their oldest sister would always come out on top. Charmaine would get pissed,
and Evelyn would feel defensive.

“Enough,” Evelyn said.

“What’s enough?” Charmaine persisted. “Five hundred?”

“Charm,” Beverly said, nudging her middle sister in an attempt to warm the chill building rapidly in the air. If what she
knew about Fendi was true, the bag had probably cost twice that, and Beverly didn’t want her sisters squabbling on the day
of her bridal fitting. “It looks like Evelyn is about done. Why don’t you get into your dress?”

All was quiet as Charmaine gave the designer bag one last lingering glance and left for the dressing room. Beverly gave herself
an imaginary pat on the back for handling that so well. Their mother would have been proud.

She wished she could smooth things over for her friend. No doubt Valerie was miserable now. But if Otis was smacking her around,
it was good that he had left. Hopefully he would stay gone. Beverly was so thankful that Julian didn’t have a bad temper.
Compared to Julian,
she
was the one with the temper.

She remembered the time about ten years back when she had come within an inch of slashing her then-boyfriend Vernon’s convertible
top because she caught him cheating on her. The only thing that stopped her as she crept up to Vernon’s car in the middle
of the night was that she had accidentally locked her shoulder bag—the one with the knife needed to do the dirty deed—inside
her car.

She had done a lot of growing up in the years since that awful night, and it was downright embarrassing to think that she
had ever let a man mess with her head like that. She liked excitement in a relationship as much as the next woman, but some
of the stunts men pulled were absolute deal breakers, and cheating and hitting were at the top of the list.

It had taken her a while to get it right, to put it all together, and watching the relationship between Evelyn and Kevin had
probably helped more than anything. They had been married so long, they must be doing something right. They had a kind of
give-and-take that Beverly had come to admire. When one was down, the other one lifted. When one came up short, the other
filled in. They completed each other the way the right pair of shoes completed a great outfit. With Julian, Beverly knew she
had finally found someone she could have that kind of relationship with.

C
harmaine removed the pot roast from the double oven, and the kitchen filled with the aroma of cloves as she carefully placed
the pan on the stovetop. As soon as she had come in from the fitting and meeting with the chef, she kicked off her heels and
got busy in the kitchen. For the past year, she had been in a Martha Stewart or B. Smith mode. She had always enjoyed doing
things around the house when she had the time, and when she and Tyrone got hitched a year ago she had turned into a regular
homebody, as Tyrone often teased her.