The Game of Denial by Brenda Adcock Page A

Tucker's wedding. That was truly the best of times and the worst of times for all of us."
    Evey rocked quietly and drank her tea, waiting for Joan to continue.
    Joan took in a deep breath. "Tucker and Giselle were married almost eleven years ago and they were very young. Tuck just graduated from college and was preparing to go to law school. Right after graduation he announced he was getting married that summer so he and Giselle wouldn't be separated. We thought he should wait, but when he refused there wasn't much Martine and I could do about it. It was a very difficult time for us. Martine had been diagnosed with breast cancer a few months earlier. We tried to downplay the seriousness of her condition for the children for as long as possible, but it was obvious her condition was deteriorating. By the time the wedding date rolled around I wasn't sure she would be strong enough to even attend. But she was a very strong-willed woman and exceptionally brave. I don't think I have ever been prouder than when I escorted her down that aisle. The way she was breathing seemed more labored than usual and she gripped my hand tightly throughout the entire ceremony.
    "I tried to convince her to skip the reception afterward, but she insisted on going. She stood through the receiving line and when Tucker danced with her, the way she looked up at him and smiled with such love and pride nearly broke my heart."
    "When did she pass away?"
    "Three or four months later. I wish she could be here for Fran to see how beautiful she is now." Joan cleared her throat again and sipped her tea.
    "I'm sure she'll be watching over the ceremony."
    "If you believe in such things. I'm not sure I do any more."
    "You loved her very much."
    "More than anything," Joan said in a firm voice. She cleared her throat. "I'm concerned about seeing my mother again tomorrow. Maybe that's why I can't sleep. I'm not looking forward to it." She sensed Evey's unasked question. "Martine and our relationship were never accepted by my mother. When Martine passed away, she refused to attend the funeral. Only my brother came. That snub hurt me more deeply than anything ever has." She shook her head. "This will be the first time I've seen her since I lost Martine and I'm not sure I can get over that kind of total nonacceptance of who I am."
    "Perhaps she's mellowed since then," Evey said.
    "If she has she'll probably be more like old cheese than fine wine," Joan said.
     
     
    JOAN PACED RESTLESSLY around the house. She had gotten up much earlier than she wanted, before the sun rose over the surrounding hills and long before the morning shadows were cast across the peaceful setting around her. She hadn't slept well, despite the chamomile tea, and the result was a dark mood. Hoping to flush the thoughts from her head she ran farther and longer than usual, gasping for air by the time she returned to the porch of the farm house. It was the day she had been dreading since Fran announced her wedding date and place. Joan rested her hands on her knees and tried to fight off the feeling of nausea churning in her stomach. Take deep breaths. Try to think positively. Don't let personal issues cast a cloud over Fran's happiness. Grin and bear it. Act like an adult, not a simpering child. She shook her head. None of her mental pep talks were working. She longed for the feel of Martine's arms around her, her lilting accent murmuring in her ear. With Martine at her side, Joan knew she could do anything, face any adversary. But Martine was no longer at her side. She would be alone to face her mother.
    "You're up early," Evey said from behind her.
    Joan straightened up so quickly that her movement momentarily threw her off balance and she felt light-headed. Evey reached out and took her arm to steady her. "Are you all right?" Evey asked, concern tingeing her voice.
    "I'm fine, thank you. Probably ran too far this morning on an empty stomach," Joan answered, taking a deep breath to calm her mind and