“Shh.” A hiss sounded from the table where the bridesmaids were seated. All eyes turned toward the noise. I scanned the table until I saw Sunny. Her face was flushed even though her glass of wine was untouched. She was staring at Trisha, who had an empty glass of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other.

“Don’t you dare shush me,” Trisha said.

Sunny’s mouth tightened as if she wanted to yell at the other woman but didn’t want to make a scene. It looked like she was hanging on to her good manners by a thread.

Trisha suddenly stood up. She shoved her chair back from the table with her backside. The legs of the chair scraped across the floor in a high-pitched squeak. Now everyone was staring at their table.

“How about a toast?” Trisha cried.

“Sit down, Trisha,” Quentin, the best man, ordered from the adjacent table, but she didn’t listen. Much like Piper, he looked as if he hadn’t slept, and his suit was wrinkled, his hair was mussed, and stubble covered his chin.

Trisha ignored him. She began to walk through the tables. She was wobbling on her very pointy heels, and she leaned heavily against the back of a man’s chair. He tried to take the wine bottle from her but she laughed and spun away from him.

“A toast to Dooney,” she said. She splashed some wine into her glass and raised it high.

It was clear no one knew what to do. I glanced at Dooney’s parents and Davina looked pained, but she lifted her glass, which was the signal for everyone else to do the same.

“You will be missed,” Trisha said.

“To Dooney,” the crowd murmured.

Not knowing what else to do, Viv, Andre and I joined the toast. Everyone drank and I hoped that this was the end of it. It wasn’t.

“Wait,” Trisha cried. She spun around so that she was facing the bridesmaid table. “I have one more thing to say.”

I glanced from her to the table of women. Sunny was staring at her with a wide-eyed fearful gaze, like a songbird staring down a sparrow hawk. Sunny slowly shook her head, and Trisha laughed.

“Oh, come on, Sunny, we need to toast little Dooney. Don’t you think it’s only fitting that since we’re forced to mourn the man, we should celebrate his child?”

The room went utterly still. Viv and I exchanged a glance. What was Trisha saying? Was she insinuating that Sunny was having Dooney’s child? There was vicious and cruel, but this was so over-the-top nasty that it took my breath away.

“Trisha, you’re drunk,” Piper said. She stood and tossed her napkin down on the table. “Someone take her to her room.”