By the time the reconverted school bus rolled into the Twilight parking lot, there wasn't a sober Spivey in the lot. Mrs. Spivey led the parade down out of the bus and into the Twilight, her fake fur coat flapping wildly behind her, the big white cake box nearly obscuring her view of the pathway to the front door.

Roxanne and Jimmy followed the elder Spiveys down out of the bus. She clung to his arm, staring up at him through the lace of her veil which she had insisted upon wearing during the rehearsal, which had, by the way, been held on the bus. The preacher Mrs. Spivey had lured into performing the ceremony held the door for the happy couple. He clung to it more for support than as a gesture of good manners. He, too, had fallen from the wagon of faith and into the quagmire of intoxication.

We made such a loud and unruly entrance into the supper club that even the Two-Tones, who were slap in the middle of "Begin the Beguine," were forced to quit playing. At a signal from Mr. Dean, the band broke into a rousing version of "Here Comes The Bride."

Jimmy and Roxanne processed in a slow, weaving pace down the middle of the dance floor, their bodies bathed in the eerie red light of the dining room. For a moment, the Spivey family looked almost normal. Happy, laughing, barely weaving with the alcohol, the Spiveys had decided to put on a good show for their Jimmy.

The evening progressed at a rapid pace, or else the Mai Tais I swilled were working to collapse time in upon itself. The happy couple was toasted. The steaks arrived. And soon, people began to wander away from the table, heading for the dance floor or back to the bar. Mama Spivey's head was drooping over her empty plate. Pa Spivey had taken the opportunity to sneak onto the dance floor with one of the waitresses, and Roxanne left to go powder her nose. Jimmy, momentarily unaware of my presence, relaxed.

He was eating his steak, his dark hair falling over the side of his face, his jaws working with the concentrated effort of chewing. For a moment he looked just like what he really was, a sad little boy.

"I want to talk to you," I said, "and I'm not taking no for an answer." I didn't have to speak loudly, I was only four seats away, but still the sound of my voice startled him. He looked up, blushed, swallowed, and paused with his fork halfway to his lips.

"Maggie, don't." He had a determined look on his face, as if keeping me from speaking would save him from thinking about what he was about to do with Roxanne.

"We have to talk, Jimmy. You're doing this for the wrong reasons." I leaned closer and spoke a little louder as the bandleader soloed on his tenor sax.

"You're killing me!" Jimmy said, his voice carrying suddenly, as the bandleader brought the song to a close. Jimmy flushed and stuck the uneaten forkful of food in his mouth.

Mrs. Spivey, who'd been half asleep, jerked to attention and whipped her head around to see the cause of Jimmy's distress. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted me.

"Maggie! Leave him be!" I realized then that Jimmy's unrequited love had not gone completely unnoticed. Jimmy was supremely embarrassed. He blushed even redder, pretended to choke, and looked down at his lap.

"Mrs. Spivey, he doesn't love her. That's my only beef with the whole deal."

Jimmy was carrying his coughing fit a little too far, bringing his hands up to his neck, jerking in his seat. Just like a Spivey to overact.

"It don't matter," Mrs. Spivey yelled. "He can't go around the rest of his life mooning after his brother's wife!"

Jimmy slipped to the floor, sliding under the table. Even for a Spivey, this was a bit much. His face was a dusky red, and his eyes had rolled back in his head. I didn't waste any time at all. I ducked down under the table, crawling my way over to the disabled Jimmy.

Above me, I heard Ma Spivey screaming. "You two get up from under there!" I don't what she thought I was doing, but the reality was enough for me to handle.

"Jimmy! Can you hear me?" His face was a mottled reddish blue. I bent my head close to his mouth. Not a sound. That's about when Roxanne reappeared from the ladies' room.

"What the hell's going on here?"

I had my fingers halfway down Jimmy's throat. I didn't feel anything, so I sealed my lips over his and blew. Roxanne bent down and peered under the table.

"Jimmy! Oh my God!" She was gone, standing upright and screaming at Ma Spivey. "They're making out under the table! At my wedding rehearsal!"

This brought the band to a standstill and the wedding party on the run. I felt them stampeding, the floor trembling beneath me as I struggled with the dead-weight Jimmy.

"Help me get him out!" I yelled, but the others were too busy listening to Roxanne to hear me. I flipped Jimmy on his stomach, knelt behind him and tried to pull him up. I formed my hands into a knot by his diaphragm and pulled as hard as I could.

Someone pushed me aside.

"Leave my wife alone! "Vernell yelled.

He grabbed Jimmy from my arms, attempting to haul him out from under the table, his arms wrapped around his brother's torso.

With a sudden jerk, Jimmy's body flew up. Vernell staggered backward under the weight of his brother, and a huge wad of steak went flying from Jimmy's mouth, past me and across the table into Mrs. Spivey's lap.

Jimmy gasped, his eyes fluttered, and he awoke just as Vernell's fist went flying toward his face.

Ma Spivey screamed "Stop!", but it was too late. Jimmy sank to the floor again and Vernell stared wide-eyed, from me to his mama.

"I heard it all!" Ma Spivey exclaimed. "Jimmy said she was killing him!"

Roxanne lunged toward me, but someone grabbed her, holding her back. Jimmy was coughing and writhing around on the floor, struggling to scramble to his feet.

"He was choking! Did y'all not see the hunk of steak?"

They ignored me, all yelling at once. Jimmy struggled to his feet, a dazed look on his face.

"What happened?" he asked.

The wedding party turned on him, all talking at once. It was a huge mess. Somehow, Jimmy persuaded a reluctant and suspicious Roxanne to believe that he had choked and we were not kissing. With Jimmy's testimony, Ma Spivey and the others were forced to accept that I had not tried to kill my brother-in-law, but you could see in their eyes that some doubt remained. Especially with Ma Spivey and Roxanne.

I looked back on that night, five years ago, and I could see how Marshall Weathers had gotten the wrong impression of me again. Out in the country we used to say, "If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and smells like a duck, it's probably a duck" But I wasn't a murderer, no matter what I smelled like.

" Are you coming inside or are you gonna sleep in the car?" Jack had snuck up on me, at least it felt that way. In all probability, I'd been lost in my memories. He leaned against the front fender, waiting for me to move.

"Go on ahead," I said, stirring. "I'll be in in a minute."

"You all right?" he asked, concern mirrored in his eyes.

"Finer than frog hair split down the middle." I didn't meet his gaze for long.

He shrugged and turned away. That was something I liked about him. If I said I was fine, then he let me be fine, no matter what evidence there was to the contrary. When I stepped out of the car, he was disappearing inside the club without a backward glance.

I'd reached the stairs, almost to the back door, when I heard the ping and saw a tiny flash of light. It took the second shot for my brain to register that someone was shooting at me.

I think I screamed. I know I ran for the door, grasping at the handle, ducking down, every nerve in my body painfully tingling with fear. I half fell in the back door, too scared to do more than run for the first person I saw. Cletus.