chapter TWENTY-SIX
Charlie tracked down her aunt in the hotel bar, sitting with eldest daughter Kenzie. Charlie had to stop and look at her watch to make sure she’d read the time correctly.
It didn’t seem as though her aunt was a raging alcoholic, but maybe the pressure of a wedding her daughter apparently didn’t want was putting her under undue stress. A stress eased by forty-year-old scotch.
Charlie dropped into the booth next to Kenzie and across from her aunt.
“Well?” Bernice asked, her eyes so bloodshot, Charlie almost felt bad for her.
“It looks like she’s been seeing some polar bear on the side. Named Damian Miller.”
“A bear? Seriously?” Bernice demanded. “That girl!”
Kenzie relaxed back in the booth so that she was sitting at an angle, able to see both of them. “Are you really shocked by this? It’s not like my sister makes good life choices.”
“But she did. With Ron. The very rich Ron with wonderful connections.”
Kenzie smirked at Charlie. “My mother’s all about the love.”
“Fuck love,” Bernice snapped. “I’m talking about the financial future of this family.”
“Resting on the giant shoulders of a spoiled brat.” Kenzie gave her mother a thumb’s up. “Good job, Ma.”
“But she loves Ron. I know she does,” Bernice insisted. “I see it in her eyes.”
“In her cold, dead eyes,” Kenzie muttered, making Charlie snort.
“Stop it.” Bernice pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I’m not letting her ruin this. I’m not letting Carrie ruin what could be the love of her life. So I want you and your sisters to stay on her.”
“We’re not PIs,” Charlie reminded her. “Other than finding out what we’ve already found out . . . I’m not sure what you want us to do.”
“I want you to keep her out of trouble.”
“Good luck with that.”
Bernice slammed her hand on the table and barked at Kenzie, “Stop muttering shit under your breath!”
“Look,” Charlie cut in, trying to keep the situation calm, “we have nothing confirmed yet. Max and Stevie are on her right now anyway; we’ll just keep doing that. Monitoring the situation.”
“Thank you.”
“But there is something else.”
“About Carrie?”
“No.” Charlie let out a breath. “About your father.”
Bernice frowned, glancing at Carrie. “What about him?”
Charlie reached into her messenger bag and pulled out the issue of Vanity Fair. She opened it up to the Guerra spread and laid it in front of her aunt. “Do you know them?”
She studied the picture of the twins before admitting, “Yes.” She nodded. “They were in an ad for Versace a year or so back.”
“Is that all you know about them?”
“What else is there to know about two vapid bitches from Italy?”
“That they’re your half-sisters?”
Bloodshot eyes blinking wide, Bernice leaned forward to get a closer look at the picture; Kenzie did the same.
“They could be badgers, Ma. Look at those shoulders. Like linebackers. Big, Italian linebackers.”
“He . . .” Bernice shook her head. “He couldn’t have.”
“Why are you so surprised?” Kenzie asked her mother. “He pretty much started a brand-new family over here without actually separating himself from the family he had in Scotland. And Italy is a hell of a lot closer.”
Bernice raised her hands, palms out. “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now. And I’m not sure why I should give a shit. Who knows how many pathetic women the old fucker impregnated in his extremely long life? I don’t know how that’s my problem.”
“I didn’t say it was your problem,” Charlie explained. “But these are the two who have been trying to kill me and Max and grab Stevie. These broads are very rich, very determined, and very pissed off at the MacKilligans.”
“No offense, Charlie, but you and your sisters are not exactly considered family.”
“Ma,” Kenzie said, glaring at her mother across the table.
“It’s okay,” Charlie told her cousin, appreciating that she was at least attempting to protect Charlie’s feelings. “But you should know . . . that it seems they helped Freddy steal the hundred million pounds from Will.”
That’s when Bernice slammed her head down on the table and then rammed it there a few more times.
Charlie cringed a little and mouthed Sorry to her cousin.
Kenzie shrugged back seconds before her mother’s head suddenly jerked up and Bernice growled, “Will there ever be a time when my brother does not find ways to fuck up my life!”
Charlie leaned away from that scream and admitted to her aunt, “Probably not.”
* * *
Carrie met her seven-foot-tall polar boyfriend on 47th Street, where he led her to one of the many jewelry stores.
Stevie watched through the shop window as her cousin fingered a four-carat diamond set in a simple gold necklace.
“Is that a wedding gift?” Stevie asked Max.
“You got me.”
Once he put the necklace around Carrie’s throat, the polar led her through the store. They were arm-in-arm, and Carrie seemed to enjoy herself as the bear showed her all the sparkly jewels and the entire layout of his store.
So they wouldn’t be seen, Stevie and Max moved away from the window and stood near a hot dog vendor where they had a clear view of the entrance.
“This is so not cool. What she’s doing to her poor fiancé.”
“Not everybody has the same opinion of love,” Max said. “Maybe they have an arrangement.”
“The arrangement should be either we’re together or we’re not together. Not ‘I’ll be getting jewelry from other guys before our wedding day’ together.”
“Maybe you’re a little naive.”
“Maybe you’re an idiot.”
Max punched her shoulder, so she punched her back. They had headlocks on each other when the vendor finally pulled them apart. “Stop it! Both of you! Love is different for each couple! Now stop it!”
They separated, with the vendor pointing a warning finger at both of them before again focusing on his cart.
Max leaned close to Stevie and whispered, “We just got schooled by a hot dog vendor.”
Stevie whispered back, “Are you saying that because you’re putting down the hot dog vendor or because you really want a hot dog?”
She shrugged. “I really want a hot dog. And a pretzel.”
* * *
They left the bar and Bernice went to the large room where the already-arriving gifts for the bride and groom were being stored. She left Charlie and Kenzie out in the hallway while she went inside and began making calls.
Charlie sat on the floor, her back against the wall, and waited. She could hear her aunt yelling. There was also some crying, but it was mostly yelling. Such hysterical yelling, Charlie really couldn’t understand what was being said.
Kenzie sat down next to her. “I’m sorry about all this,” she said, shocking Charlie.
“You didn’t do anything. In fact . . .” Charlie thought a moment. “You have nothing to do with any of this.”
“I know, but still . . .” She raised her knees and rested her elbows on them. “I might as well warn you now that I doubt any of my aunts and uncles will be much help. They will all be looking to protect themselves.”
“I already know that. I just figured I should let Bernice know what was going on since I am taking her money.”
“That’s not true. You have a loyalty to family. Even this family. I’m just sorry we suck at returning it.”
“Again, not your fault. You’re the only cousin who’s actually nice to us.”
“Well, if I have a big family wedding, you and your sisters are definitely invited. But,” she added, laughing a little, “not your dad.”
“That is sound logic for a MacKilligan.”
“I do try.”
The door opened and Bernice came out. “Well, those bitches are definitely family.”
“So Will knew?”
“He knew of them. But they never told us because they just considered the Guerra twins another one of our father’s unfortunate mistakes.” She gave a little sniff. “Kind of like me, I guess. Anyway, Freddy probably has no idea who these women are. Although I can only pray that all he did was let himself get led around by the nose rather than what he usually does.”
“Based on what I read in that article and online, my father wouldn’t have a chance with those two, which is good . . . because incest is the one thing I would like this family to actively avoid.”
Bernice looked at the phone she had clutched in her hand. “There’s something else. About my brother’s daughter Mairi.”
“Which Mary?” Charlie asked. “Mary Pat? Mary Christina? Mary Cecile?”
“No, no. Mairi spelled M-a-i-r-i.”
“What about her?”
“She was doing hard time in Edinburgh Prison. But she’s out.”
“She was paroled?”
“Escaped and the family thinks she’s headed to the States. They suggested we keep our eyes open. According to Will, she’s . . . a little . . . unstable.”
“Uncle Will who set his math teacher on fire when he was eight thinks that Mairi is unstable?” Charlie scratched her neck. “That’s disturbing.”
“Yeah.” Bernice briefly closed her eyes. “This just keeps getting fucking worse.”
“Ma,” Kenzie warned, “your cursing is amping up and we have to have lunch with Ron’s parents today.”
“Fuck, I forgot. Fuck! I don’t want to meet with those people.”
“Ma!”
“All right, all right. I need to get ready to meet them.” She pointed at Charlie. “I’ve made up my mind. You and your sisters need to get fitted.”
Charlie glanced at Kenzie. “Fitted for what?”
“For your bridesmaid dresses. You won’t walk down the aisle, of course, but you’ll blend nicely with the wedding party so you can keep an eye on things.”
Charlie got to her feet. “I’ve already hired additional security. There is absolutely no reason for me and my sisters to go to a loveless wedding.”
“This isn’t about security. This isn’t about whether the waiters are serving from the right. This isn’t even about managing any drunks during the dancing portion of the evening. This is about ensuring that nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, ruins my daughter’s day!”
“Does that include your own daughter planning to ruin her wedding?”
“I especially mean that!”
Charlie shook her head. “Look, I get it. But there’s no way I will ever get Max MacKilligan into a dress. Not now. Not ever.”
* * *
Max spun from one side of the room to the other, letting the skirt of her dark gray dress swirl around her.
Standing in front of the mirror, as two tailors tried to get the bridesmaid dress clearly designed for much smaller honey badgers to fit her, Charlie watched her sister. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this.”
“Why not? I love going to weddings.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely.” She stopped behind Charlie, looking at her in the glass. “First, I break out the dance moves.” Max began to dance the way she had during Charlie’s prom. She’d snuck in with Dutch and together they’d taken over the dance floor until the vice principal caught sight of the two students he continually referred to as “my personal projects because I will not be broken!” and forced them to leave. “Then I watch everybody get liquored up. Then I start taking wallets.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on. I need the practice.”
“Absolutely not. We’re there to help our aunt because she’s giving us a lot of money to do so. We are not ruining everything by going into Dad-behavior. We are there to prevent that sort of thing.”
“Well, where is the fun in that?”
“You can dance, though. And since I know you’ll do it anyway, you can bring Dutch—”
“Already called him. I think he’s getting fitted for a tux right now.”
One of the tailors, a tough Serbian fox with no patience for what she called, “the idiocy of the badger,” suddenly stood straight and yelled at Charlie, “I cannot work with this girl! She is crazy!”
“I don’t like to be touched!” Stevie yelled from under a table. “Can’t I just give you my size? I don’t want your hands on my breasts!”
The fox flung her arms out in frustration, her cold blue gaze on Charlie.
“How about,” Max suggested, “we get that giant panda to touch your breasts?”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
Eyes wide, Charlie and Max looked at each other, then began laughing.
“He’s very nonthreatening,” Stevie insisted.
“I cannot make these changes in time if I do not get help from you,” the fox said, putting her arms across her chest.
Still getting measured, Charlie motioned to Max and watched in the mirror as her sister walked across the room and kicked the table away from Stevie.
“Out!” Max barked, grabbing Stevie by the arm and yanking her up. “Now let the nice coyote—”
“I am fox!”
“Who cares? Fit you for these not-as-horrifying-as-I-thought-they-would-be dresses.”
“These aren’t bad for bridesmaid dresses, are they?” Charlie asked, studying the lines of the designer gown on her body.
“Remember the bridesmaids’ gowns at Sheila’s wedding?” Max asked, dragging Stevie over to the wood riser and forcing her to stand on it. “The giant bow?”
“Oh, God. The bow.”
Stevie slapped Max’s arms away and growled, “Just do it!” She stood ramrod straight. “Just do it and get it over with!”
“Like you’re waiting for the firing squad,” Max muttered, stepping away.
The fox stepped close and, with another fox, quickly and silently began to measure a very unhappy Stevie.
A knock at the door had Max twirling across the room, laughing when her skirt swirled around her legs. She opened the door and stepped out.
A few seconds later, there were raised voices and the door was flung back open. A woman who looked a little familiar stormed in, followed by Livy and Max.
“What are you doing with my brother?” the woman demanded.
There was silence and Charlie realized that her baby sister didn’t understand who this woman was yelling at.
“Stevie, she’s talking to you.”
Stevie’s eyes opened and she looked over her shoulder. “Oh. Hi, Livy.”
“Hi, Stevie.”
Stevie frowned down at the other woman. “Are you mad at . . . me? Or Max.”
The woman pointed at herself. “I’m mad at you. I am mad at you!”
“Oh. Okay.” Charlie waited for her sister to say it . . . she wasn’t disappointed. “I don’t know who you are, so I don’t know why you’d be mad at me.”
“What do you mean you don’t know me? We’ve stayed in the same house together. Traveled together.”
“I’m . . . sorry. Are you a fan? Do you want an autograph?”
Livy and Max looked at each other, but just as quickly turned away. And Charlie knew she couldn’t catch Max’s eye. It would be the undoing of her.
“You know me, Stevie. I’m Toni. Jean-Louis Parker.”
“Are you related to Kyle?”
“I’m his big sister.”
“The assistant?”
“Assistant?”
“Yeah. Kyle says his big sister is his assistant. You help with the mundane duties of his career.”
Livy looked like she was about to say something, but instead she just walked out of the room. Not that Charlie blamed her. She would have done the same thing in her place.
“I am not Kyle’s assistant,” Toni responded. “I am his sister. And I want to know what you’re doing with my brother.”
“I want to know what you’re accusing my sister of,” Charlie cut in, nodding at the fox now that they were done.
She stepped off the riser and let them unzip and slip the dress off her. Charlie grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it on, then went for her jeans.
“My brother says he’s living with you guys. He’s only seventeen.”
“Kyle’s renting a room,” Stevie said.
Tugging on her sneakers, Charlie hopped around so she could focus on her sister. “Since when?”
“Since this morning. He says it’s impossible to work in the intolerable situation his parents have going at their rental house in Manhattan, and I totally understand that. Not everyone is like my sisters. Respectful of what extraordinary people need to do to create. It sounds like Kyle’s family is not like you guys at all.”
Shaking, Toni’s hands curled into fists and she barked, “I am not respectful of extraordinary people? I?” she bellowed.
Livy returned, sort of zooming into the room, grabbing the jackal’s arm, and pulling her toward the door.
“This isn’t acceptable!” she screamed as Livy dragged her away. “He’s only a kid! He’s only seventeen! If I find out anything weird is going on between you and my baby brother—”
“Done,” the Serbian fox said, stepping back.
“Oh.” Stevie smiled at her image in the mirror. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Nothing is going on with you and that kid, right?” Charlie felt the need to ask.
“Nope. But now we’re getting rent that will cover him and his security guard, which also means we actually have extra security. It’s a win-win for us.”
“Okay.”
“Besides,” she added, slipping out of her dress, “I love Kyle, but if I had to date that boy, I’d put a pillow over his head until he stopped moving. And that would be a great loss for art, don’t you think?” Charlie nodded and told her sister, “I love your sound logic.”
“It’s just one of my many gifts.”