For the accused

I wrote this about seven months ago during school. I'm sort of posting this because of a friend who requested to read it. This isn't the whole thing and its unedited, but I'm currently in the process of editing it. This is just to whet your appetite. Also, I have to say that any similarity to real life events is completely accidental. Really...



James walked into the hotel lobby with no sign of apprehension on his handsome face. A casual observer would never have guessed the uncertainty of his feelings, nor noticed the slight shake of his hand as he took a glass of champagne from the server. He had no idea what would happen during the course of the evening , but he was determined to see it through for the sake of his sister, Joanna. Albeit, he was going to do so with a drink close to hand.
He could see the whole room from his far corner of the bar. The band opposite the bar played Tony Bennet tunes for those on the dance floor and a silent screen played a college football gae behind the bartended, who was cleverly ixing drinks for a pair of girls. "I have a hundred bucks on this game," said Laurence, coming over. "Another whiskey-soda, please, bartender."
"And another pear ale for me," said James.
"What, I thought you were going to get drunk as a skunk tonight and you're drinking some imported chick beer?" exclaimed Laurence. "Atleast have a whiskey with me, I'm buying."
"Jo wants me as sober as possible until her future in-laws leave. I was only able to weasel out the ale and champagne for fortification."
"Bummer," replied his friend, heaving a great sigh. "You haven't heard anything from work today, have you?"
"What? Please, leave work out of tonight. I'm distracted enough as it is. Besides, what do you care? You spend half your time avoiding work and the other half finding women. What's going on?"
"I was just curious as to how you were taking your vacation," explained Laurence. "I know how much of a workaholic you are." James noticed a heavy scent of alcohol eminating from his companion. He had obviously been drinking heavily. Laurence belched quietly.
"How long have you been here?" asked James, waving the foul smelling air away from himself.
"For about three of these."
"Great. Well, slow down, will you," requested James. "The soon to be in-laws don't like heavy drinking and you smell like a brewery."
"All right, man, anything to make this easier on Jo."
"You're a saint. Now, one last glass before I go. She wants me in there five minutes before Peter and Lauren go in. Fill her up, barkeep."
"By the way, old man," said Laurence, "why do you always get your drinks before I get mine?"
"I tip."
Inside the party facilities, Joanna was pacing up and down, just on the verge of frantic. The rehearsal had gone well, the tables were all set up and waiting for guests; it was all as close to perfect as she could get it, but none of it seemed enough. In-laws, she hated them. In her first marriage she had known the family for years before, since high school, and there had been no tension at all. Now, her future in-laws hated her, or practically. They hated that she and Arthur were living together, that they had only known each other for five months, and a whole host of other things. Joanna, personally, had never had a quarrel with anyone and she tried to get along with the as best she could, but she still got the feeling that nothing she did was ever going to be good enough for them. Tonight would probably turn out the same way.
"Ma'am," said one of the servers, "the caterers gave their okay. We can start whenever you're ready."
"Thank-you. It'll be about ten minutes."
In came Arthur, straightening his tie. "Alright," he said, "I'm going out there to wait for y parents and give the okay for everyone to go in. You okay?" he asked.
"As okay as possible," she replied, ustering a nervous smile.
"Hey. In two days, we'll be married and they'll start warming up to you, once they realize they can't get rid of you. They've always been slow to warm up to people."
"i know. You've told me this before." Joanna tip-toed to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks for saying it all once more."
"Any time, my love. Now, I'd better be getting out there."
"Get on. And send James in here without alcohol, please. I need him sober tonight."
"Come on, if not us, then let him. Someone should enjoy themselves at this thing."
She shoved him out. He left laughing, just passing James in the doorway. "She's this close to freaking out," he said, measuring Joanna's emotional state between two fingers.
"I figured as much. Let me handle her; I've been doing this for a long time."
"My savior tonight."
"And every time you guys fight from now on. I have no idea how you'll survive a honeymoon without me. You should really be taking me with you. The porter said a car just pulled up; it looks like them."
"Thanks."
Joanna did indeed look frazzled. James had seen her nervous before, but not quite like this. He knew what she was going through, she had explained it to him in minute detail until one a.m. last night. Not his favourite way to waste an entire night, but he'd do anything for her, including sacrifice a night of much needed sleep. She wanted them, the in-laws, to like her as her previous ones had done and still did. That was truly impossible, the history she shared with them being beyond the comprehension of strangers. What she had tried to do was ease herself into their lives without replacing Arthur's ex-wife or seeming to. They were a different sort of people, rich, of course, because all stuck up white people are, occupying that set of society that had a naturally endowed sense of entitlement and prviliege. It was a feeling neither she nor he had ever shared. "You don't remember tham, James," she had said, "But mom and dad always taught us that good manners and an agreeable, polite character could take us anywhere. I believe that and it has worked , through school, college and my marriage to Eric. I don't understand why suddenly it fails to help." "aybe they're just morally different," he had suggested. She had no answer, because that was what she had been thinking, too, ever since she had first met them. Arthur was nothing like his parents, that was for sure, and for his sake alone did she try to get along with them. So, understanding this and sympathising, he approached and gave a comforting hug. "I hope that helps," he said.
"It does indeed. How are you faring?"
"i'll be vertical all night, if that's what you mean. But, damnably, there are no pretty girls to take my mind off it. Its too bad Arthur didn't spring for the full blown bachelor party; at least then I'd have the memories."
"Honestly," she exclaimed in a scandalized tone, "you paint yourself as some drunken Casanova of the hearts of females, but I know you're a model of virtue in your life. Hardworking, caring, not to mention generous, and these are all just things I hear about you, mind. I happen to know for a fact that you are a loving, devoted, and protective human being as well."
"Now, don't go ruin my reputation all in one night," he laughed. "Its too good for business."
"And you enjoy it," she added. "Look, there they are." Arthur had just ushered his parents into the room and was leading them over to where James and Joanna stood.
"My god," muttered James, "its the poster child for botox. What's her name?"
"Lauren Jackson, and don't forget it."
"I won't be able to. It sounds incredibly odious don't you think. My god, her face; can you say, too little too late."
Joanna hit him. "They've seen us," she whispered discreetly.
"Look at the toupee on that man. Can you conjure up any better images than that that say, trying to recapture y youth by wearing a sock on my head? I don't think he did anything that stupid, even when he was young." Joanna hit him again, but could not completely stifle a laugh. He watched as she greeted them, seeming much more at ease than she felt. It was an ability they both shared. He shook hands which each of the dreaded pair and exchanged a pleasantry or two before excusing himself. He found Laurence lingering between the lintels of the doorway, watching the last of the game. "Is everyone in?" he asked.
"Yeah, I' the last one. Come on, Michigan."
"Get in there, Laurence. We're going to start any minute now."
"Man, its tied and my team's got the ball."
James gave his sister a thumbs up and dragged his friend simultaneously away from the television and what he guessed to be a fifth whiskey. "We'll be right back," he said to Joanna on his way to the restroom. "Rinse," he told Laurence, tossing him a travel pack of Listerine. "And don't use it all. I'm next."
"The forecast still calling for cold weather?"
"Arctic, my friend. I don't think I can do this. I mean, if they hurt her or mess with her, I'll just-"
"Hey, man, calm down," said Laurence, handing him the bottle. "They are bound, just like everyone else, to obey the laws of courtesy. Besides, do you really think Arthur would let them get away with it? He's a good guy, give him some credit."
"He is a good guy. It's just that Jo's been through a lot, especially after Eric died. I was there when she got the news and I have never seen her so crushed by anything. I don't ever want to see that look on her face again, for any reason, and the right word from those people could do it. She's that fragile right now."
"Hey, she's tougher than you think, I'm sure. Now, swish and spit, although if you need an extra hit for alcohol, that stuff will do the trick. Gargle and let's go. We have a party to crash. You know the champagne is going to taste terrible after that, don't you?"