“Of course we know the wedding march,” the bandleader said. “We had to learn the damn flamenco for this gig.”

Downer burst out laughing again.

“Grow up,” Agnes said, and he stopped. Then she nodded to the band, and it began the wedding march. “Jesus,” Lisa Livia said.

“If we’d had this at the country club-” Brenda began.

“Shut your thieving, murdering mouth,” Lisa Livia said, and Agnes thought, That’s fair, and turned to watch Maria come down the aisle.

Maria appeared at the top of the porch steps, unsmiling but lovely in flamingo pink, and Frankie paused beside her, too, beaming and majestic in tuxedo black, and they walked across the lawn together until they reached the edge of the chairs. Then somebody said, “Who the hell is that?” and Brenda turned, and gasped, “Frankie?” rising to her feet on the word as her face went paper white, and Frankie waved to Lisa Livia, and then made a gun out of his thumb and forefinger and shot Brenda.

She fainted dead away and the wedding march trailed off.

Agnes looked at the bandleader. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

He nodded to the band, which struck up the wedding march again, and Maria began her walk down the white cotton runner, her chin up, her long dark hair ruffling in the breeze, and Frankie on her arm, still beaming.

Lisa Livia uncapped a bottle of water and poured it over her mother’s head, ruining her hair and makeup and making Maria smile, and Brenda came to sputtering. Lisa Livia grabbed one arm and hauled her into her seat. Maria and Frankie reached the end of the aisle as a lot of the guests on the bride’s side of the aisle suddenly developed a pressing need to be elsewhere.

Maria gave her maid of honor her flowers, Frankie patted her hand and gave it to Palmer, and then they both turned to Reverend Miller, Maria’s smile fading as she saw him.

Frankie sat down beside Agnes and said, “Damn fine wedding, Agnes.” Then he leaned forward so he could look past her and Lisa Livia to the dripping Brenda and said, “Hello, Brenda. I’m back. Miss me?”

She gazed hack at him with such loathing that both Lisa Livia and Agnes pulled back a little.

“Hello, Frankie,” she snarled. “Maisie’s in the back row if you want a quickie.”

“A marriage is a lifetime bond,” Reverend Miller intoned loudly, gazing sternly at Maria, who stepped back a little. “One that should not be entered into lightly.”

“I saw her,” Frankie said. “She hasn’t held up like you have, baby. What’d you do, kill a virgin and drink her blood, you murderous bitch?”

“They were a hell of a lot easier to find once you left town, you cheating bastard,” Brenda said.

“Shut up,” Lisa Livia hissed. “This is my kid’s wedding.”

“Much soul searching should be done to ascertain that the two souls seeking to be joined forever are indeed soul mates,” Reverend Miller said to Maria, whose shoulders slumped, “coming from the same kind of communities, speaking the same language-”

“Hey, I was just trying to find a little fuckin’ warmth” Frankie said. “Which I sure as hell wasn’t gettin’ at home.”

“You weren’t gettin’ it at home because you were gettin’ it everyplace else,” Brenda said. “Fuckin’ everyplace else.”

“Shut up,” Lisa Livia whispered savagely, and Agnes smacked Frankie on the arm and nodded toward Maria and Palmer.

“-because those who come from different backgrounds, from different cultures, may never truly find a common ground to bond upon.” Reverend Miller looked sternly at Maria while Palmer continued to look off into the distance for a hangover remedy, having missed the entire speech.

“What the fuck is that minister saying to my little Maria?” Frankie said, startled.

“You let the goddamned minister alone,” Brenda said. “Did he just say my kid wasn’t good enough for Palmer?” Lisa Livia said.

“Oh, for the love of God.” Agnes stood up to face Reverend Miller.

“I don’t know what ‘celebrate’ means in your vocabulary, but in mine, it doesn’t mean making the bride feel like an outsider and everybody else want to kill themselves. You’re done here. Go away.”

“I tried to leave before,” Reverend Miller snapped.

“I know,” Agnes said. “But you were a real putz about it, so I’m not giving you any points for that.” She looked around for Carpenter but saw only Shane, who was standing next to a large black trunk on a dolly. That’s new, Agnes thought. “Carpenter?” she called.

“Right behind you,” he said, and when she turned around, he was there, straightening his tie.

“Saw this coming, did you?”

“Didn’t everybody?”

She leaned closer and whispered, “You swear to me this will be legal?”

“Yes,” he whispered back. “I’m legal everywhere except Utah, North Carolina, and Las Vegas.”

Agnes closed her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered. “The bride and the groom are a little depressed. That hag from hell Brenda has convinced Palmer that Maria is marrying him for his money and convinced Maria that Palmer only wants her because she’s beautiful and that he’ll cheat on her. One of them might even say, ‘I don’t.’“

“Got it covered,” he said, and moved to the front, majestic in his black suit.

“Welcome friends of Maria and Palmer,” he said as he took his place in the gazebo, moving Reverend Miller out of the way at the same time by the sheer force of his bulk, and his voice rolled over them, rich and warm. “Many of you have made long trips to come here, some of them fraught with difficulties, and we are grateful to you for that. Maria and Palmer’s trip to this moment has also been fraught with difficulties, and their willingness to surmount those challenges will speak to their hope for the future.”

Palmer still looked as though he wasn’t listening, but Maria turned to Agnes, giving her a What the hell? look.

“Six M amp;M’S,” Agnes whispered. “Swear to God, Maria.”

Maria took in a deep breath, nodded, and turned back to Carpenter.

Carpenter cleared his throat.

“Dearly beloved,” he said. “We are gathered here today to honor a couple who have shown that they truly know the meaning of love through adversity, of staying the course no matter what life brings. Maria, a lovely girl who could marry any man she chose, is giving her hand to Palmer, a young man of great promise, in spite of his recent losses due to the disastrous lawsuits at the Flamingo Golf Course-”

“What?” Maria said, startled.

“-that have left him penniless-”

“Dude,” Downer said, taking a step away from Palmer.

“-and virtually unable to support her-”

“What?” Palmer said, finally waking up to frown at Carpenter. “What are you talking about?”

“Palmer,” Maria said, leaning closer to him.

“Really, Maria,” Palmer said stiffly. “You don’t need to worry about the money.”

“I’m not,” Maria snapped. “I work, you know. I’ve worked since I was fifteen. I was raised to work. Have you met my mother? You think she’d raise a daughter to rely on a man for money?”

Palmer blinked. “I didn’t mean…”

“I love you, you moron,” Maria said, looking like she wanted to kill him. “And now that you’re broke, I can prove it to you. In fact…” Her face cleared. “Palmer, this is good. We can make a fortune together.”

“I’m not broke,” Palmer said, scowling at her.

“You’re not listening,” Maria said. “You’re a genius at golf courses, but you’re not so smart at practical things. I am. I have my mother’s brains, and I’m here to tell you, my mother is something else. With your creative brain and my street smarts, we’re going to be millionaires in no time. And we’ll do it together, Palmer. It’ll be better this way.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’ll be broke for a while, but not for long. You have no idea how smart I am.”

Palmer looked exasperated. “Of course I know how smart you are. Why do you think I’m marrying you? You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met. I knew that on our first date when the car broke down and you fixed it and then we got lost and you figured out the GPS system. I knew damn well that you were the perfect match for me.”

Maria’s mouth dropped open. “Palmer?”

“Well, it’s great that you’re hot, too, of course, but it’s not important And I love you. I don’t know what the hell’s been going on this week.” Palmer squared his shoulders. “But I’m telling you now, if you’re marrying me for my money, I don’t like it much, but I’m marrying you anyway.”

“I’m not,” Maria said. “I never was, that’s what I’m trying to tell you, I don’t care if you’re rich. I want money, but we can make it together. We’ll make lots of it. I’m good at it, you’ll see. You design the golf courses, and I’ll make sure we get lots of money for it and that it gets invested and we have retirement and our kids have college savings, I’ll take care of all of it. We’ll be rich again. We’ll do it together. It’ll be better this way, Palmer, we’ll do it together.”

“No, we won’t,” Palmer said. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t lose my money. The Flamingo is fine. I’m still rich.”

Maria looked at Carpenter.

Carpenter nodded. “I was just checking.”

“We’re rich?” Maria said.

“Sorry,” Palmer said.

“Oh, thank God,” Maria said, and fell into his arms. “So what I need to know right now is that the two of you really do want to get married,” Carpenter said. “Yes,” Palmer said.

“Absolutely,” Maria said, clinging to him.