He sucked hard on the cigarette. Blew out a big cloud of smoke. “I’ve always regretted it, you know? Rosalee was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m sorry for the way I treated her.”

“You should be.”

“Cut me a break, would you Mace? You always were too tough for your own good, even as a kid. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the way I did your mama. And I’m sorry for all the heartache I brought into you girls’ lives, too. Y’all sure didn’t need that, not so soon after your real daddy died.”

I could feel a hard lump of tears at the back of my throat. All of a sudden, the years since we lost Daddy disappeared. It seemed like just yesterday that this man, with his drinking, his cheating, and his fists, moved in to replace him. I hoped I wouldn’t cry. With all the goop D’Vora had slathered on, I’d have a mudslide of makeup to deal with.

I breathed deeply; waited until I knew my voice would come out steady. “Are you sick or something? Are you trying to set things right?”

He took a last puff, then held up the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and stared at it.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I am sick.” He flicked the butt out into the lot. “Cancer. The doctor says it’ll get a lot worse.”

I tried, but I felt nothing. I wasn’t sorry. Would a more forgiving soul, like Marty, feel bad? I knew Maddie would happily start measuring for his coffin.

“Maybe you should give up smoking.”

“Doesn’t make much difference now.” He coughed again, a hacking, pained sound. “See what I mean?”

He gave me a weak smile.

C’ndee stuck her head out of the kitchen door and shouted, “Jimmy, you can go. We got somebody else to come in. Don’t worry. I’ll hire you again. It’s nothing personal.”

Nothing personal? C’ndee couldn’t know how wrong she was.

“Will you tell Rosalee what I said, Mace? Will you tell her I’m sorry?”

I looked closely into his face, saw the yellow pallor behind the tan; the dull cast to those beady eyes. In a year, maybe two, he’d be dead. And we’d still be here, the Lord willing. We’d still be a family.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll tell her.”

“What about this guy she’s marrying? He okay?”

“Better than okay. Sal adores Mama.”

“I’m glad. She deserves to be happy.”

C’ndee’s head popped out the door again. She bellowed, “Mace, pictures! We need you inside. Now!”

Jimmy grinned. “Man, she sounds like a piece of work. I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

I thought about that. How bad was C’ndee’s bad side?

I stuck out my hand to Husband No. 2. “Take care, Jimmy.”

His eyes widened in surprise, but he shook. “You, too. See you around.”

“Not if I see you first.” I actually meant that, but I smiled a little when I said it.

What’s that people say about the burden of hate? It’s harder on the hater than the hated. I was finally ready to be a little less burdened.

I whispered to Maddie from the side of my mouth as we sisters posed for pre-wedding pictures. “So C’ndee knows about Tony?”

“No talking, Mace!” C’ndee barked. “Everybody look to the left. Big smiles. Say ‘cannoli.”’

Grouped on the steps of the VFW stage according to height, we rested our open parasols across our right shoulders. We smiled out to the left. As the photographer snapped, Maddie spoke under her breath: “C’ndee told us as soon as we got here. Tony phoned her first thing, and she called in the family’s lawyer.”

“Oh, for Gawd’s sake! Can’t you two keep your mouths shut for one minute?” She stepped closer to the stage, lowered her voice. “Since you’re curious, some would say nosy, Yes, I know Tony was arrested. No, he didn’t kill Ronnie. And he didn’t do that murder back home, either.”

She waved a hand through the air, blood-red nails flashing. “Everything’s going to come out in court. You’ll see.”

I knew what Tony had told me, but I wasn’t going to argue. Maybe C’ndee wanted to believe the best about her nephew. Or maybe she was just accustomed to juries failing to return guilty verdicts against members of her family.

After the photographer had shot what seemed like a thousand pictures of the three of us, C’ndee left to help Mama repair her face after the tearful encounter with No. 2. Fortunately, there would be no posed pictures of the bridal couple until after the ceremony. Mama had insisted Sal stay away until just before the wedding began.

“It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before she walks down the aisle, girls,” she’d said. “And I’m not going to do anything to jinx this marriage.”

We sat, skirts as full as open parachutes, waiting to assess the extent of Mama’s makeup damage. When she returned, leaning just a bit on C’ndee for support, Marty let out a sigh of relief.

“She looks beautiful,” my little sister said.

“Thank God,” Maddie added.

Mama’s lips shone with Apricot Ice. Her eyes were clear. Her rosy cheeks glowed. A faint dusting of powder hid her red nose.

“Amazing,” I said to C’ndee.

“An ice pack cures many ills.” She cupped Mama’s chin and aimed her face to the light. “You can’t tell you spilled a single tear over that S.O.B.”

Her voice turned serious. “I’m really sorry for hiring him, Rosalee. I had no idea there was any history between you. I’ve been trying so hard to make this day perfect, and then I completely screwed it up.”

The surprise on my sisters’ faces surely mirrored my own. We all stared at C’ndee, whose eyes were cast to the floor. I wouldn’t have believed she had a bit of doubt about her own abilities. It made her seem a step beyond tolerable.

Mama patted C’ndee’s cheek. “Honey, just forget about it. I already have. And you’ve accomplished miracles with this wedding on short notice. You have nothing to apologize about.”

C’ndee, seeming to stand a bit taller, clapped her hands together.

“Places everybody!” she blared, but at a less-obnoxious decibel than usual. “Veil shot’s next.”

She moved us this way and that, choreographing Mama’s girls helping her put on her veil. I had to admit, it probably made a beautiful photograph, posed in front of a huge vase with calla lilies, white roses, and carnations. Delicate ferns and baby’s breath filled out the display.

My sisters and I plucked our lilies from the vase. We each were to hold one elegant stem as we walked down the aisle. It was the single understated element in our ridiculous wedding getups. Then again, if we were to try to juggle purses, parasols, and a traditional fat bouquet, bridesmaid accessories would be dropping like horse patties along the bridal path.

_____

The wedding was scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes. Mama’s earlier nerves had disappeared, along with her ex-husband. Now, she truly was a beaming bride. Her radiant glow might have owed something to the generous glass of wine C’ndee had poured her from the bar.

Engulfed in our big skirts, Mama and my sisters and I crowded around a table at the edge of the hall. The VFW was transformed: Celadon tulle draped in graceful swags from the ceiling, softening the fluorescent lights. White china sparkled on linen tablecloths. Boughs of white flowers gave off a delicate scent. I even noticed sprigs of orange blossom with glossy green leaves in the arrangements—traditional for brides, and also a nod to our Florida family’s roots.