Sinners Football 01- Goals for a Sinner (27 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Stevie Dowd and Connor Riley married at 10:00

a.m. the first Saturday in June before the worst heat of the day in a private lakeshore ceremony performed by Rev Bullock’s father. Only best friends and immediate family attended. Stevie held to her very basic instructions for the bridal party—wear something white.

Stevie wore her palest of blue gowns, sleek and yet comfortable. A simple crown of daisies rested on her long, loose hair. Around her neck dangled a large, emerald cut aquamarine and a Super Bowl ring, both on gold chains. The former was a wedding gift from her groom. The latter had been given to her as a token of engagement but was much too large for her to wear on a finger. She refused to have it cut down to her size. For the most part, everyone obeyed her orders for the day. Stevie passed among her guests admiring their outfits and listening to their banter.

Her sister, Michelle, and her mother arrived in lacy tea-length dresses and picture hats fit for a garden party with the queen. Her two nieces, dressed in similar frills, carried wicker baskets full of dried rose petals that when strewn, crunched under the feet of the guests and gave off a sweet, pleasant scent.

At Merrilee’s insistence, Colby served as ring bearer. He hated his short white pants and having become very vocal, said so. “Why can’t I play with the other kids?”

“Because you are in the wedding, my dear, sweet boy. Mommy wasn’t invited to be matron of honor.

Your new Auntie Michelle got that job even though she lives far away in Houston.” Dr. Arminta Green Bullock preferred to get a second use out of her wedding dress. Without the veil, yards long train and choker of diamonds, the gown was really very basic and practical like Mintay herself. Jackie Haile, the third bridesmaid, wore a white satin tuxedo and top hat she’d found in, where else, Las Vegas. Connor and the groomsmen had white dinner jackets custom-made to fit their over large physiques.

Joe Dean called out to Jackie, “Hey, Lesbo, don’t I look exactly like James Bond? I bet you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“You look like a waiter, Jerk,” Jackie replied.

“But yeah, I can’t keep my hands off of you.” She bopped him hard, but not in his throwing arm. Joe punched her back, but in a friendly sort of way.

The Rev held up his hands. “Peace! I feel like a waiter in this getup and you don’t hear me complaining.”

Standing nearby, Kevin Riley wore children’s dirty handprints and baby drool on his white coat.

Dexter Sykes, who had offered to take the wedding pictures as a truce offering, photographed Kev in all his grungy glory. Now that portrait would be one of her favorite momentos, Stevie was certain. Another image that pleased her in a different way—Kristen Riley, dressed in a white silk suit with a daisy in the buttonhole, her blonde hair in a tasteful chignon, holding her husband’s hand and weeping her tears of joy. Knowing Dex all too well, Stevie insisted on a contract where she got to select the photos that would undoubtedly be sold to every sort of celebrity magazine. Connor and Stevie knew they were destined to be on the cover of
 
People
 
again, but Dex did pledge to give the couple a free wedding album.

A reception for four hundred guests awaited the wedding party at the grand old Fairmont Hotel.

Amber and Marcello, who had not been invited to the ceremony, told Stevie they would spend their time at the reception profitably by handing out business cards to athletes they thought had modeling and advertising potential. Most likely they would also bore everyone by displaying baby pictures of their newborn, Gabriella Stefania.

Not caring much about the arrangements for the big bash, Stevie left most of the details to Margaret and the very competent staff of the hotel. She and Connor were married with happiness and laughter in the sight of beloved friends and family—all that really mattered.

****

The reception was another matter altogether.

The bride and groom stepped from the white stretch limo into a media event insisted upon by Margaret Stutes and the Sinners’ PR department. Camera flashes blinded the couple as they raced to the ballroom. Security guards wearing sunglasses to hide their shifting eyes verified each and every guest. The music inside the room ceased and was soon replaced by a drum roll.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce the bride and groom, Stevie and Connor Riley.” Good, the wedding singer recommended by Precious Armitage had remembered to call her Stevie, not Stephanie, and not Mrs. Connor Riley, as she and her new husband had agreed. He reeled off the names of the rest of the wedding party. Jackie’s outfit drew laughter, and the sweet children all dressed in white earned their share of ah’s even if they had gotten a little smudged during the marriage process.

Now past noon, Stevie figured they should start the buffet line. Personally, she was starving even if their guests had filled up on hors d’oeuvres and free drinks. She forked up a chilled lobster tail and selected one of the accompanying sauces, ran the gauntlet of tempting side dishes until she reached the rare roast beef being carved at the other end and found she had no room on her plate for the crepes being made to order with a selection of savory fillings or fresh fruit and assorted toppings.

Connor, managing to juggle two plates in his big hands, held out an empty for a crepe stuffed with blueberries and topped by a large dollop of whipped cream. “This is giving me ideas for the wedding night.” He kissed her cheek, and Dex set off his flash right in their faces.

“Great shot, Stevie. You are one of the beautiful people now.”

She did not feel like one or particularly want to be considered part of that crowd. Too much attention and too little privacy, as far as she was concerned.

They dined with four hundred people, few of whom she knew, watching their every bite which made her stomach jitter.

The band cranked up again and immediately, the lead man made a sad error. “The bride will now dance with her father.”

What father? She had forgotten to mention Dad was deceased. No one had given her away. They simply stood in front of the Reverend Bullock and got hitched. At the table directly in front of them, her mother dabbed at her eyes and frowned. The crowd parted. Coach Marty Buck, dressed in a tuxedo, claimed her with applause from the audience. Even her mother smiled—and gladly took her place with the coach after Connor cut in taking Stevie in his arms. Kristen and Keith Riley, two people still in love after all these years, joined the dance. Kevin led Merrilee to the floor. The Rev claimed Mintay. Stevie’s sister danced with her husband, and Joe Dean—that joker—took Jackie Haile out for a spin. They battled for the lead, dipped each other and brought the house down with their act.

Joe topped that with his James Bond impression performed to draw giggles from three busty blondes who immediately encircled him after his dance.

Stevie had no idea who they were or where they came from. Were they some of his list ladies he’d smuggled into the party? Oh, he was going ruin another chance with the Wish Lady if he kept this up. Unfortunately, Nell had not gone along with the first attempt to pair them and denied Joe after the Rev’s wedding. He’d run off to the islands with six of his list ladies to sulk, but she and Mintay agreed to give this match another try. The man was a menace to happily married men.

Stevie scanned the crowd. Where was Nellwyn Abbott? She’d invited that lady at the Rev’s wedding and followed up with the engraved invitation. Come on, who could resist an invite to a party like this?

Ah, there she was boxed in by the linemen. Her small form stood out in its floaty white dress with its blue floral print. Most of the female guests had elected to wear sophisticated black—mourning the end of Connor’s freedom perhaps. Good, Calvin Armitage had seated their special guest at a table with Precious and Sharlette right out front for Joe to see. Damn, Dex motioned them toward the four-tiered wedding cake. He enjoyed pushing the bride and groom around entirely too much. The pastry chef had done a magnificent job molding pale blue icing with white Swiss dots over the layers and ringing each tier with fresh daisies including the topper. The man hadn’t been at all put out by a request for Sinners’ red velvet cake on the inside. A groom’s cake of dark chocolate formed in the exact shape and size of Connor’s jersey with a big, red number eighty in the middle sat to one side. They made the first cut. They nibbled from each other’s fingertips, keeping a pact not to do any cake smashing. They toasted with champagne in three different positions and crossed their hands to show off their rings, his a plain broad gold band, hers slim and channeled with diamonds.

Stevie began to relax. Joe Dean had definitely spotted the Wish Lady. Like a shark scenting chum in the water, he neared her table. Seizing a tray of champagne flutes from a passing waiter, he went into action. Pretending to be a server, he played some kind of game with the drinks. Nell did not appear to be playing along.

The band struck up the schmaltzy
 
When I Fall
 
in Love
. Perfect. Joe lost no time whisking the Wish Lady from her seat and out onto the dance floor. Nell tried to keep up a conversation; Joe kept trying to pull her closer, a repeat performance from the previous wedding. By the end of the song, he managed to tuck Nell Abbott under his chin and tight against his chest. And then, he escorted her back to her seat and left her entirely alone. Double damn.

“Stefania, at last I get you alone. You make the lovely bride. See my
 
fotografia
 
of your namesake, my beautiful daughter Gabriella Stefania.” Marcello waved a baby picture—actually more than one—at her. The infant already had a modeling portfolio, had posed for several ads, and her face appeared on a baby food jar, the Italian bragged.

“Yes, she is adorable. Where is Amber?”

“Amber, she floats around seeing if any big football player will sign with us for advertising. Me, I am soliciting the ladies. Too bad you are so old now, but good you get married to a rich man.”

“I think you should change that expression to

‘inviting the ladies to model’ before you get arrested, Marcello.”

“Ah, yes. I misuse an American idiom. It is part of my charm, no?”

Much as Stevie wanted to say no, she agreed with him simply to escape. Where had Joe Dean gone? Kevin had Nell in his clutches on the dance floor. Had their quarterback sneaked out to have an orgy with the three blondes? She would not put it beyond him. Huge Calvin Armitage seized her for a dance and all her attention went toward keeping him off her feet. It wouldn’t do to have a limping bride when they made their escape from this chaos.

Only one more hour to go.

Finally, time to throw the garter and get rid of the bouquet. Connor drew the pale blue garter, which held up nothing at all, down her long, naked leg. Stevie Dowd hated pantyhose with a passion and what the guys saw drew appreciative hoots from the team. The groom wound up for the throw, and then Joe Dean, obviously roaring drunk, appeared from out of nowhere. How had he gotten so stewed since the last time she saw him? Nell Abbott would not be impressed. The quarterback snagged the lacy elastic band in mid-air and shoved it on his sleeve.

He pointed and said, “No way I’m gonna be the next to marry. Not ’til I hit forty and retire.” Joe reeled back into the crush leaving ’em laughing as usual.

The women lined up for the bouquet toss. Nell did not participate even though Sharlette and Precious urged her on. Instead, the clutch of daisies sailed into the hands of Margaret Stutes who had put on some weight in recent months. She wore a loose, animal print shift that only made her look dumpy, unfortunately. But, she did use her new bulk to shove her competition out of the way with the strength of a linebacker. Triumphant, she held the flowers aloft.

“Joe, Joe Dean Billodeaux, where did you go?” The cry drew cruel laughter. Stevie felt almost sorry for the woman with her pathetic crush on the quarterback. Nothing she could do about it. Her own ordeal was nearly at an end. She congratulated Margaret on her catch and thanked her profusely for all her efforts to make the reception perfect. She announced that the bride and groom wanted to leave and Margaret made it so.

Guests reached for the heaps of poppers shaped like little champagne bottles and the tiny bags of confetti in blue satin sacks embossed with the bride and groom’s intertwined initials. They pocketed the silver boxes holding the special chocolates bearing the Sinners’ red devil mascot and searched for handbags beneath the pale blue linens draping the tables. Some snatched up the daisy centerpieces as if they were prizes on the midway and stripped the daisy garlands off the pillars and the head table.

Definitely too many daisies in this room. What was left of the flowers were to go to patients in nursing homes; the remaining food to a homeless shelter. The down and out would eat like the rich and famous tonight thanks to Connor Riley.

Stevie and Connor sprinted through the rain of confetti and streamers released by the poppers.

Snapping pictures, Dex tailed them to the limo for one last shot.

“Good luck with this one, Stevie. I gotta go.

Heard a rumor Joe Dean is reeling drunk and picked up a teenager to take back to his place.” Steve paused as she bent to get into the vehicle.