Chapter 7

      “I’m getting married!” Tasha exclaimed to everyone on the street as the bridal party exited their third bar.

      There was some hooting and cheering from passersby, and Tasha threw up her hands and gyrated her body. She’d had at least three or four shots and was clearly feeling no pain.

      It was just after midnight, and the bridal party was making the rounds in Buffalo’s downtown core. Arlene had begged off, deciding to stay home with her daughter, who had been fussing a little too much and wouldn’t settle. Melissa had also tried to politely decline the evening’s festivities, claiming that her long drive from New Jersey had left her tired, but Bonnie had insisted that Melissa attend.

      “Tasha wants you there. She needs you,” the maid of honor had stressed. “This night is about all of us bonding as much as it is about Tasha’s last big night as a single woman. If everyone starts bailing, how’s she supposed to feel?”

      Melissa had gotten the point and agreed to go out. She didn’t have a child to use as an excuse, after all, and figured that at least tonight she could truly unwind and relax.

      Unlike during the welcome party, where she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy herself with Aaron around.

      The five of them walked into bar number four, Tasha leading the way. Heads turned, just as they had when they’d strutted into the first few bars and when they’d walked down the street. All it took was a glance to realize that their group was out for a bachelorette party. Tasha was decked out in a plastic crown and veil, the word bride written in sparkling silver glitter on the crown. Strings of cheap plastic beads, Mardi Gras style, hung around her neck.

      Wilma, Tasha’s aunt, walked right up to the bar and found a space between two people sitting on bar stools. No one could accuse her of being shy or lacking self-confidence. Despite being in her early fifties, she had as much energy and spunk as the thirtysomethings. She’d already had to fight off male admirers—which really seemed to please her.

      Melissa and the rest of the bridal party gathered close behind Wilma. “Ah, a bachelorette party,” the attractive bartender said, his eyes volleying from Wilma to the rest of them.

      “Yes,” Wilma said. “My niece is getting married.”

      “Niece?” The man’s jaw nearly hit the bar. “You mean she’s not your sister?”

      Wilma blushed. Melissa got the feeling that if she weren’t happily married, she would leave a string of broken hearts in her wake. She probably had in her youth.

      “You’re too kind,” Wilma said. The man sitting on the bar stool to Wilma’s left got up and walked away, and Wilma quickly took his seat. “We’d love a round of shooters. Flaming sambuca.”

      Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but then stopped when the rest of the bridal party began to hoot and holler in agreement. They were having fun, and she wasn’t about to be the party pooper. Especially since they’d taken a limo to Buffalo for their night on the town, meaning they could all drink and not worry about driving. Wilma’s idea.

      Besides, she was enjoying the camaraderie that she never got much of these days. As the program director at the Turning Tides group home in Newark, her days and nights were often filled with emergencies, bad behavior, court dates and dealing with one crisis after another. But it had been a long time since she’d gone out, let her hair down and had some fun.

      “Five flaming sambuca shots coming right up,” the bartender said. “By the way, I like your shirts.”

      Tasha beamed. “Thank you.” She had wanted everyone to wear T-shirts that announced their role in the wedding. They were lavender, one of the wedding colors, and bride, maid of honor and bridesmaid were printed in a white cursive font on the corresponding shirts. There was no mistaking that they were celebrating an upcoming wedding. They all had feather boas slung around their necks, adding to the look.

      Bonnie leaned in close to Wilma and said, “We can’t spend too much time in here.”

      Wilma glanced at her watch. “We’ve got a bit of time.”

      “What’s going on?” Melissa asked, picking up on the air of secrecy. Bonnie and Wilma had been sharing quiet conversation for the last half hour or so.

      Wilma raised her eyebrows and smirked as she looked at Melissa. “Just a little surprise for Tasha.”

      Melissa regarded her with suspicion. “What kind of surprise?”

      Wilma raised a finger to her lips and indicated for Melissa to be quiet.

      Oh, goodness. Were male strippers a part of tonight’s plans? Melissa had not signed up for that! The last thing she needed was someone snapping a photo of her in some sort of compromising position and putting it on social media. Sure, no one would likely know who she was, since all of her social media accounts were set to private, but still. She’d never liked the idea of half-naked men dancing in front of her. What was the point?

      Tasha sidled up next to her. “Shocking news about Aaron. I can’t believe he got divorced and no one knew.”

      Aaron’s divorce had been the topic of conversation during their drive to Buffalo. The news had spread like wildfire.

      “You think you two will hook up?” Tasha asked.

      Melissa’s eyes bulged. “What?”

      Two more people vacated seats at the bar, and Tasha hoisted herself up onto the stool beside Wilma’s. “I saw you and Aaron earlier. You both looked pretty cozy, like you were having a good time. At the time I wondered what he was thinking, but now that I know he’s a free man...”