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Raylene stared at me, unsure whether I was teasing her or honestly interested. Sensing a lull in the conversation, Aunt Lola—Raylene’s own mother—changed the subject back to Jolene.
“We’re all just so excited about Jolene’s wedding.” Lola sighed. “We’ve all waited for this, for just years now. And Zeb’s such an … he’s a sweet boy. Tell us again how he popped the question?”
Arlene muttered, “‘Cause we haven’t heard this story in almost an hour now.”
Jolene obviously heard her cousin but ignored her. To be fair, I had heard the story a few times myself.
“Zeb had this big plan with a restaurant and hidin’ the ring in a soufflé,” Jolene said, smiling dreamily. “And then I stepped out my front door, he saw me all dressed up, and he blurted out ‘Willyoumarryme?’ and shoved the ring at me. It was so cute!” Jolene cooed, looking down at the little diamond ring for which Zeb had plunked down two months of his teaching salary. “He almost shouted at me when he proposed. He was supposed to have the waiters at Julian’s sing this cute little ‘Will You Marry Me?’ song. Most of them are in the high-school swing chorus, and when we got to the restaurant and they found out we were already engaged, they were so mad they had missed their chance to perform! After that, Zeb was afraid to order the soufflé. Who knows what they might have done to it?”
“Did he cry?” Lurlene asked. “I heard that human males cry at the drop of a hat.”
The amazing thing about werewolves, who spend half their lives behind a human mask, is that they have terrible poker faces. It’s part of that canine earnestness thing. For a brief second, a look of pure annoyance flashed over Jolene’s perfect features. Lurlene smirked.
“How’s it goin’ with Roy?” Jolene asked. “Isn’t he the one who drives the ice cream truck?”
There was that annoyed flash again, only on Lurlene’s face.
“That was Ray,” Lurlene said, glaring. “Roy and I aren’t dating anymore.”
“Wait, didn’t I see his name in the paper for somethin’?” Jolene said.
“Oh, he got busted for trying to sneak a brisket out of the Super Saver in his jacket,” Tammy said in the most helpful tone I’d heard in a while. “He would have gotten away with it if he hadn’t dropped the brisket.”
“Oh! Is he the one who yelled, ‘Who threw this meat at me?’ and then tried to run out of the store?” I giggled. “Didn’t it take three Taser shots to get him down? Knowing that he’s a werewolf now, well, that makes a lot more sense … I’m not helping, am I?”
I ducked my head and pretended that measuring ribbons exactly was the most important thing in the world.
“So, Jolene, tell us all about your dress,” Aunt DeeDee squealed. “I haven’t seen it yet, but Vonnie said it’s just gorgeous.”
Cue another eye roll from the cousins.
“It is,” I volunteered. “Really gorgeous.”
Cue another eye roll. Sensing the shift in the tide, Jolene generously switched subjects to Braylene’s son. “Mama finished Jake’s little captain’s outfit.”
At my questioning eyebrow, she said, “Jake’s going to be our ring bearer. We found a pattern for an authentic period captain’s suit. I just hope he can get down the aisle without stripping it off.”
“Have you found a figurehead yet?” Aunt Tammy asked.
“No, I’m thinking about having Uncle Deke carve one.” Jolene pouted.
“Titanic didn’t have a figurehead.”
Three guesses who said that. They all turned to me, the person who had dared to disagree with Jolene.
“I know.” Jolene shrugged. “But it’s just so nautical and romantic.”
“Actually, most figureheads on ships featured bare breasts because sailors believed that the best way to keep storms and misfortunes at bay was to have a woman sacrifice her dignity to the gods. Flash a little boob, get smooth sailing. It’s not so much romantic as Clash of the Titans meets Girls Gone Wild.”
And if they weren’t staring before, they certainly were now. “I’m the only person in the room who knew that, aren’t I?”
Jolene wrapped an arm around me. “I love it when you pretend to be normal.”
“Even when I was human, I wasn’t normal,” I admitted. I lowered my voice as the pack returned to their handiwork. “So, what’s Mama Ginger been up to lately?”
“Nothin’,” she muttered. “That has me worried. It’s been too quiet. Zeb said she’s been distracted by hatin’ your boyfriend, which is kind of nice. I know it can’t last long, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”
“I think that’s about as healthy as you can expect to be,” I assured her.
