With the money Mr. Miester had saved on not having to rent tuxes for the groom, the best man, the groomsmen, and himself, he sprang for a limo to take the whole motley crew to the church, and then to the Zero Stone Park in town for the reception. He didn’t save enough to go all Escalade or anything, but found a 1999 Chevy K2500 Suburban at a pretty good price due to a cancellation that had just come in.
At the reception things didn’t go perfectly, they never do. Brother Bob spent a little too much time at the margarita fountain, tilting his Solo cup towards the armadillo’s mouth from which the liquid courage spilled forth in a frothy fountain of emerald glory. After the third one, he didn’t even bother salting the rim.
Trixie, who Delgado had requested be left off the guest list, somehow still managed to show up. She was dressed in a little black dress that somehow was as low cut as it was short and tight, a miracle of modern fabric. She ended up with the bride’s kid brother in the back of the bridal party Suburban that had been converted to a stretch limousine by Chicago Armor & Limousine of Elgin, Illinois when new. Appointments included air conditioning, cruise control, a cassette stereo, and power windows, locks, and mirrors, none of which were used by Trixie and the bride’s brother. The rear cabin featured a wraparound seat and two benches at the rear as well as a wood table with drink holders, which barely held Trixie’s ankles as she was positioning the kid just the way she wanted him.
Several Solo cups, Trixie’s purse, and the kid’s virginity were all left behind in the limo when the couple exited the vehicle after first making use of the leather corner couch. At least the purse could be retrieved the next day back at the limo office.
It was the first time Delgado and Lucinda had seen each other socially since their split back after the election. He’d been back at the Grounds for Divorce for a month or two. Good kitchen help is hard to find, especially someone who can make Huevos Rancheros the way Delgado can. The sexual tension had been running high. She knew Delgado was the best man at the wedding and she almost didn’t come. But the bride called her and pleaded with her to show up. “Things are already tense with this thing being a shotgun wedding. I need all the support I can muster up,” she pleaded to Lucinda on the phone the night before the nuptials. “As close as we are, I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t come! And several people have said they aren’t coming because they heard I was pregnant. I’m afraid we won’t even hit the 100 head-minimum I had to guarantee the caterer.” Lucinda caved and attended, although she didn’t shave her legs and refused to wear high heels as sort of a protest of her own. Not about the pregnancy, but about Trixie possibly being there.
It was while the bride and groom were exchanging vows in front of the altar at Second Baptist that Delgado glanced out in the audience and spotted Lucinda looking at him. She looked him up and down like someone looking at a fine bull coming up for auction. He recognized the look. He’d seen it all the time when they were in his Airstream out at the property he owned. He’d seen it in the bungalow Lucinda lived in. He’d seen it in the kitchen at the GFD. And that look in her eye made his camo tux pants branch out just a bit.
By the time of the reception out at the park, Lucinda and Delgado couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. First it was from across the park, then the two wandered towards the playground equipment from opposite side of the park while the DJ played Watermelon Moonshine by Lainey Wilson for the bride and groom’s first dance.
“Drinkin’ watermelon moonshine/We cut the burn with a little lime/Parkin’ back in them kudzu vines/I was his and every bit of that boy was mine”
While that very well described what was taking place in the Suburban limo at that very moment, it was also calling out to Delgado and Lucinda as well. By the time the two of them met at the teeter-totters, Luke Combs was singing Forever After All. “Do you remember buttering the tortilla to this song in the Airstream?” Delgado asked Lucinda as the song came on.
“They say nothing lasts forever/But they ain’t seen us together/Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes/Just a t-shirt in the kitchen/With no make-up and a million/Other things that I could look at my whole life/A love like that makes a man have second thoughts/Maybe some things last forever after all”
Lucinda was fighting the emotion welling up as she reflected back to those days. “I do,” she said. Words she never thought would come out of her mouth.
Neither of them could recall later exactly what was said after that. They both just remember the look on each other’s face, the sun beginning to set over the Glass Mountains in the far off distance. About then the Miester boy fell out of the Suburban limo with his camo tux pants down around his ankles, his first experience Slaying the Vadragon. His cumber-bun had gotten hung up on the door handle during the dismount. The premature ejection did not dissuade him from going back for more.
“I got a little something I’ve been working on,” Delgado said. I got it from Earl on a bet, just to use around the property. I kind of had you in mind as I was fixing it up. It’s a Studebaker Weasel.”
Lucinda always had a soft spot in her heart for orphan car brands, and small forest animals.
Of course she’d already heard about Delgado winning the bet and getting the Weasel for nothing, as well as the wedding party getting outfitted in camo for free. News like that runs through Fort Stockton like bad blue cheese dressing on the Salad Wagon at K-Bob’s runs through folks’ lower intestinal tracts the next day.
“You’ll have to show it to me sometime,” she said. She was doing her best to be coy and aloof but wasn’t fooling anyone.
The next afternoon Lucinda’s gold Jeep Wagoneer was heading down the dirt and gravel driveway leading to Delgado’s Airstream, her hair loosely blowing out the passenger window as the rear tires of the Gladiator billowed clouds of dust behind her. Twice she’d told herself to turn around and go back to town. Stevie Nicks, singing Silver Springs on the cassette in the dash, was warning her what the dangers of returning to a man who’d broken your heart could do.
But then she was at the Airstream. She pulled the Wagoneer up next to Delgado’s Imperial and shut off the ignition, turning the key to ‘ACCESSORY’ so Stevie could finish her warning. As she glanced up, finally turning off the key, Delgado walked around from behind the Airstream, shirt off, where he’d apparently been polishing the aft side of the trailer.
“You’re early,” he said.
But Lucinda knew she was right on time.
