“The ceremony,” she said, “was small and intimate, with only close friends and family attending. People magazine was granted exclusive photography rights to the ceremony and the reception, it has been reported, but these shots we’re showing you now were taken by long-time celebrity photographer Paul Peterson, who managed to infiltrate the venue and snap some photos with a telephoto lens.
“Guests included smooth jazz great Bobby Z, saxophonist Dexter Price, notorious rap musician Bigg G and his fiancé, Celia Valdez and Greg Oldfellow—Celia Valdez, as you can see from this shot, served as Laura Best’s maid of honor—and all the former members of Intemperance except for Darren Appleman, the original bass player who died of a heroin overdose four years ago, and Matt Tisdale, the iconic guitarist who vowed shortly after Appleman’s death that he would never play with any of the members of Intemperance again.”
“Motherfuck!” Matt said as he watched the screen. As she had been naming off the guests, shots of that particular guest had appeared on the screen. He saw the Valdez bitch standing next to Jake’s now-official snatch, he saw Greg Oldfellow in a suit, he saw that nigger rapper in a Hawaiian shirt, and then he saw shots of Coop, Nerdly (who was apparently Jake’s best man—no fuckin’ surprise there) and then that dick smoker Charlie (who was actually sitting next to a fucking woman! What was up with that shit?). And now, as they mentioned that he, Matt, had not been there, there was a brief shot of him with his guitar in hand, one of the publicity shots from the last tour.
“What’s the matter, Mattie?” Kim asked. “Why do you give a shit about Kingsley getting married?”
“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “He wants to fuck up his life, that’s his business.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I wasn’t invited to the fucking wedding,” he said.
“What?”
“All the other members of Intemperance were there,” he said. “Even that fucking dick smoker. But he didn’t invite me.”
“Would you have gone?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Fuck no!” he barked. “I don’t even want to be in the same fucking zip code as that asshole, let alone at his wedding. But he still should’ve fucking invited me!”
Though Jake and Laura had left for New Zealand the day following the wedding, most of the rest of the wedding party had stayed behind at the resort to enjoy a little rest and recreation. Jake had paid for everyone to have a full week there, and a full week is what everyone took.
Jill, Celia, Gordon and Neesh tried their hands at surfing on most of the days. The elder Yamashitos booked a cheap flight over to Oahu and did all the tourist things there—including visiting Pearl Harbor, where they mixed in quite nicely with a whole trove of mainland Japanese tourists visiting the memorial. Charlie and Sonya looked into the possibility of opening a vegetarian restaurant on one of the islands and received some good vibes. Greg ended up hanging out with Jake’s and Nerdly’s parents as they drove around and explored the island. Nerdly and Sharon mostly just stayed in the resort and surfed the internet, marveling over how much less the bandwidth was there. Pauline and Obie looked into the possibility of buying a winter house in the islands, and they received some favorable vibes as well. Ted, Phil, Z, and Dexter just hung around the resort bar most of the time, swilling up the booze and listening to Ted’s paramedic stories.
Finally, however, it was time to go home. The Yamashitos, the Archers, the elder Kingsleys, and Charlie all hopped on a plane to Honolulu and then another plane back to San Francisco—all flying first-class, of course. Ted, Phil, Z, and Dex all made a similar trip, but they flew back to LAX instead. The rest of them: Pauline and Obie, G and Neesh, Nerdly and Sharon, Greg and Celia, climbed back aboard a chartered Gulfstream for their trip home.
As such, they beat everyone else there since they did not have to stop in Honolulu for a layover first.
They parted ways at Van Nuys airport, each of the couples climbing into a separate limousine for their respective trips home.
Celia and Greg arrived at their Los Angeles house just after five o’clock in the afternoon. They trudged inside while the driver and the house staff unloaded their luggage and worked on getting it inside.
“Aww, home sweet home,” Celia said as they entered the living room.
“I suppose,” Greg said. “I’d really like to move our action over to the Palm Springs house in the next week or so though.”
Celia shrugged. “I’m up for that,” she said. “I can have some alone time now that the wedding is over. Maybe start doing some composing.”
“I’ll start working on the arrangements tomorrow,” Greg said.
“What about your project?” she asked. Greg had accepted the role in the upcoming cop film he had been offered. Us and Them was to be the title. They were still working on casting currently, but preproduction would start in earnest as soon as that was done.
“I’ll deal with that when it’s time,” he said. “For now, I just want to get out of LA for a bit.”
“I feel you,” she said.
They walked over into the office area. There were two phone extensions here, both connected to answering machines. One line was for Greg’s business calls, the other was for Celia’s business calls. When they had left for Hawaii, they left their cell phones behind and had not given anyone they did business with the number where they could be reached. The wedding was meant to be a vacation for them in every sense of the word.
Now, however, it was time to pay the piper. Both machines were blinking rapidly, their digital counters showing dozens of messages waiting.
“Ugg,” Celia said sourly. “I am not going to deal with this right now. I’m going to pour myself a nice glass of wine and go take a bath.”
“Enjoy,” Greg said with a sigh. “I might be up in a bit. I’m going to at least listen to some of these first.”
“You do that,” Celia said, giving him a quick kiss. “I’d suggest you get yourself a drink first.”
“I think I will,” he said.
She went to the bar area and pulled herself a bottle of Merlot out of the rack and opened it. She then pulled down a wine glass. She carried both upstairs to the master bedroom and shut the door behind her. She set the wine and the glass down on a small table next to the large tub in the master bathroom. She turned on the water to hot, stopped the drain, and then poured some scented bubble bath into the flowing stream.
While the tub filled, she took off her clothes and dropped them into the laundry hamper. She looked down at her vaginal area for a moment, debating whether she needed to shave. She had done so only two days ago in their suite in Hawaii and there was no real stubble to be seen. She then ran her hand over the calf of her left leg. It too was smooth. She nodded. No shaving necessary. If Greg wanted a piece of the action tonight, he would find that the maintenance was within specifications.
She lit a few candles and placed them on the edge of the tub. She then found a paperback book from her collection—it was Delores Claiborne by Stephen King—and carried it to the tub. She checked the temperature with her foot and found it was just a tad hot but nothing she could not live with. She climbed into the water and made herself comfortable.
It took the better part of five more minutes before the tub was full and she turned off the water. Silence descended in the room except for the occasional drip of water. She took a few sips of wine and then settled into her book, feeling the heat soothing her body, soothing her soul.
She was well into her second glass of wine when the door opened and Greg entered the room. He had a strange look on his face.
“What’s up?” she asked.