I made a quick exit, because my support as best maid only went so far.
“What’s going on?” Zeb asked as he watched Jolene try to absorb the sight of her wedding cake. Mimi followed Jolene’s high-pitched cries to the van, where she had a similar reaction to the cake.
“She may be a few minutes,” I told Zeb.
Zeb watched as Jolene, Mimi, and Eula had a very loud “discussion.” “Should I go …”
“Jane, honey, why don’t you just stand in for her?” Mama Ginger suggested, to Zeb’s horror.
“Mama, I don’t think that’s—”
“You can’t do that!” Uncle Creed cried.
“We can’t have the rehearsal without the bride,” I insisted.
“No, don’t be silly,” Mama Ginger warbled, pushing me into the spot next to Zeb. “There, that looks so much better anyway! Just like I always said, you and Jane are like two peas in a pod.”
Zeb’s brow furrowed. He was wearing his “trying to remember something” expression, or possibly his “I smell something funny” expression. Either way, the way he was looking at me was disquieting. His eyes were unfocused as he stared at me, dazed. “I can’t marry Jolene.”
Mama Ginger gave a victorious squeal as I spluttered, “S-say what now?”
Zeb clasped my hands in his, despite my repeated attempts to yank them loose. “I can’t marry Jolene. I can’t live a lie, Jane. I can’t be with anybody but you.”
A symphony of gasps and angry growls rippled through the bride’s family. My knees turned to jelly. The wedding party was silent and aghast, besides Gabriel’s shocked “Beg pardon?”
“No no no no no no. You and I have never felt that way about each other,” I said in my slow and deliberate voice. I turned to Gabriel as Zeb kissed the back of my hand. Dick stared at us, slackjawed, unsure whether to laugh or, well, laugh. I asked, “Is it some sort of thrall or whammy? Please tell me it’s a whammy.”
Zeb wrapped his arms around me, looking into my eyes with a level of tenderness only seen when politicians are publicly apologizing to their wives. “I’m sorry I let this go so far, Jane. Jolene’s a nice girl, but I wanted to get back at you for spending so much time with Gabriel, for not loving me back. We have such a long history together, Janie. Friendship and companionship, that’s what’s going to keep us happy for the rest of our lives. It’s always been you, Janie. You were always the girl I’ve wanted to spend my life with. You were always the girl I wanted waiting for me at the end of the aisle.”
This was all starting to sound horribly familiar. Mama Ginger “awwwed” and demanded that Floyd get up and use the disposable camera to record this beautiful moment. Jolene, who had left the Great Cake Debate to investigate why the groom was snuggling up to another woman, cried, “Zeb, honey, what the hell are you doing?”
Lonnie got to his feet and glared at Zeb with a predator’s eye. “What’s going on here?”
Zeb looked pained, panicked, at the sight of his bride-to-be. He pressed his lips together, then blurted, “I can’t do this, Jolene. I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be with you. I can’t go through with this wedding.”
Jolene chuckled, looking to me to say that this was all joke. I shook my head, bewildered. “Zeb, this isn’t funny.”
“It’s not a joke. Jolene, I can’t marry you. This whole thing, it’s wrong.”
“What are you talking about?” Jolene demanded. “I love you!”
Sweat broke out on Zeb’s forehead as he vomited out the words: “I don’t love you.”
Jolene let loose a strangled cry as she sank into a chair near her father. If looks could kill, Zeb would be hogtied at Lonnie’s feet with an apple stuffed in his mouth. Mimi wrapped her arms around the distressed bride and murmured soothing sounds into her neck. Behind them, a wall of indignant, insulted werewolf relatives rose to their feet, glowering at Zeb and me with curled lips and bared teeth.
“You’re doing the right thing, Zeb,” Mama Ginger cooed. “I’ve told you from the beginning, this whole wedding has been a mistake.”
Mimi turned on Mama Ginger and snarled. But Mama Ginger was too wrapped up in her triumph to notice.
“Let’s get out of here, Jane.” Zeb took my hand and tried to pull me away. Gabriel’s hands clamped around my shoulders as I yanked away.
Gabriel’s voice was low and stripped of the barest hint of kindness. “Leave now, Zeb. I don’t think we can protect you if you say much more.”
“I’m not sure if I want to,” Dick muttered. “Even I have standards.”
Backing toward his car, Zeb sent Jolene a last sorrowful look. “I’m sorry.”
Mama Ginger and the rest of the Lavelles were packed up and peeling away from the farm in seconds. Jolene soaked her mother’s shoulder with hoarse, body-wracking sobs. I glared at the girl cousins, who were snickering behind their hands, and wrapped an arm around the bride. “I don’t know what to say.”