Chelsea rolled her eyes at the word obey. She understood tradition, but Kate and Nick had opted for the most archaic vows available. When it came time for the practice kiss, they joined hands and pressed their lips together so lovingly and so tenderly, the onlookers hushed in awe. Everyone basked in the outpouring of love. Even hard-hearted Tristana’s eyes grew soft. Chelsea cleared her throat to interrupt their rapt fixation on the amorous couple, and she glowered with a look of foreboding at Thad. She mouthed threateningly, “Tell Kate, or I will.”
Unnerved, Thad ambled away to join his squat mother at the recesses of the church vestibule, where they waited for Alexa.
Alexa bounded back down the aisle loudly, and she raked her fingers through his mop of hair as she discreetly slipped her hand under his jacket. Her fingers trailed downward from the nape of his neck until her hand found a niche under his waistband. She could not stand close to Thad for too long without affectionately hugging him, mostly because she liked the discomfort it aroused in him. Preferably, she instigated her molestation in front of their mother in order to amuse herself with her stifled horror.
“Enough with the incest, already,” Jane reprimanded.
“I can’t help it, he’s so cute,” Alexa countered, giving Thad a kiss on his crimson cheek. She informed she would meet them later at the lounge, and she made her way out of the dreary church. The back of her coat read “Substance 1987,” and Thad smiled because Ben must have given it to her. Thad had once drunkenly puked in the back seat of Ben’s old convertible while Nick was driving, and Ben caught the vomit in his cupped hands and wiped the mess down the front of Nick’s coat. To this day Thad was unsure if Nick ever realized who really was at fault for his coat shrinking two sizes after the dry cleaning. Nick gave Ben the coat, which he stenciled Substance 1987 across the back and wore until this day.
Chelsea found Thad, and she grabbed hold of his neck. “Are you ready to get drunk? Maybe then you’ll work up the courage to tell Kate Portnorth’s best kept secret.”
“What secret?” Jane Feldpausch asked. Thad’s mother hated secrets. She considered them cowardly and in poor taste, which is why she wore all her own secrets written across her face like a walking tragedy. The world knew about her scarred ovaries without her having to say a word. “What doesn’t Kate know? Has the Whiley girl’s condition worsened?”
“No, mother, she’s still safely comatose.”
“Then what is it?” Mrs. Feldpausch asked. “If it’s about why Katie’s father isn’t here, then it is a family matter and I have a right to know.”
With pointed smugness, Thad said, “I thought you no longer consider him family.”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Chelsea taunted. “I’m sure everyone will be yacking about it tomorrow when it becomes obvious there won’t be a wedding.”
“Don’t sound so cheery at the prospect,” Thad said. He informed his mother if they didn’t leave for the lounge, they’d undermine the Feldpausch tradition of being the first to arrive at all social functions.
Once they left, Chelsea turned around to discover Nick brooding behind her. Anxiously, she attempted to maneuver her way back into the guts of the church, but his imposing bulk easily blocked her path. It made her nervous and uncomfortable being alone with him, and she was reminded of her lack of stature as if remembering a forgotten disability.
Although Nick seemed preoccupied, it did not deter him from confronting her. He moved closer, and asked calmly, “What was that crack for, about me screwing one of the bridesmaids?”
Chelsea pulled her cardigan tighter. “It meant it, exactly what I said.”
“I don’t know what your problem is, but let me remind you of one thing, tomorrow is Kate’s special day,” Nick pointed out.
“What are you insinuating? I’m out to sabotage your precious wedding?” Chelsea asked dumbfounded. She added bitterly, “You’ve already done that, Nicholas. You’ve already ruined Kate’s special day, and possibly the rest of Evangelica’s life.”
“Just what the hell do you think went on between the two of us?”
“I wouldn’t venture to guess.”
“I didn’t pour those pills down her throat. What’s wrong with you? What have I ever done to you?” Nick asked, and his face flushed with the memory of one unfortunate night back in high school. “How many times do I have to apologize for that one drunken time?”
“Oh, that takes the cake, you prick-for-brains,” she burst. “You’ve never apologized, not ever— not even once!”
“I just did, yet again,” Nick said, sounding wounded. “You can’t believe I’m some sort of ogre, Chels. Don’t punish Kate for my past mistakes. She deserves a perfect wedding day.”
“What she deserves is someone better than you. If you loved her at all, you’d tell her, tell her about your fling with her stepsister two nights before her wedding.”
He was silent for a long moment, and then said very deliberately, “I find it hard to believe you honestly care what’s in anyone’s best interest but your own.”
“How can you say that?”
“When Kate’s mother died, where were you?” he asked plainly. “I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you have all the answers,” Chelsea said flatly. What was going through his mind, that she was a spurned lover. “You think I’m plotting to tell Kate about your fling with Evangelica because of some old vendetta? Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Well, it’s how you act half the time.”
“You’re so full of yourself, I can’t believe it. Just remember I was never with you willingly,” Chelsea said. She was fuming inside, but struggling to keep her composure. She tugged her cropped off hair behind her ears and shut her eyes for a few contemplative seconds. Taking a deep breath, it was all she could do to keep from smacking his blandly attractive face. She could not stand his sense of entitlement or the way he took for granted he was untouchable.
“You’re so self-righteous it’s sickening,” Nick said. He turned away unable to conceal his loathing for her. He found Chelsea’s superiority complex even more daunting than his mother, whom he had always considered the Queen of Condescension. Nick detested her capacity for moral and intellectual pretension, which automatically made her point of view lord paramount. “It’s easy to take the high road when you’ve never allowed yourself the luxury of actually living a life.”
She felt braver now that Nick’s back was turned, and so she issued the ultimatum. “Thad’s too chicken shit, so either you tell Kate – or I do, and while I’m at it I should tell her how you forced yourself on me. What you did is called date rape.”
Nick became so incensed he smashed his open palm against the table. A pile of church bulletins fluttered to the floor, and Chelsea jumped with fright. Nick asked enraged, “Did Thad tell you about last night? I swear to god I’ll kill him if he did.”
“You’ve already nearly killed one person this weekend,” Chelsea informed. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Oh, cut the melodramatics.”
“I think they’ve only just begun, Nicholas,” Chelsea said as she backed away.
She watched him standing alone in the vestibule. Alone and struggling with feeling of remorse was how she longed to picture him for the rest of his life. She opened the church door, and a gust of summer breeze saturated her lungs. She reveled in the nascent dusk. The sun was beginning to recede behind a pinkish purple horizon, but strangely it felt as if a new day was dawning. The more time Chelsea spent with her old friends, the deeper was her urge to purge herself of them. She had never pandered to Nick’s ego in the past, and she was not about to start now even if it meant hurting Kate.
Walking to her car, she made a mental note of what few things she still needed to pack, and this time she would pack with more practicality. She closed her eyes and imagined California. She wondered what justifiable reason there was to sacrifice her integrity for Kate’s well being.
It had always been that way, keeping secrets for the sake of others. Her only real hope was total liberation resulting from fully embracing the truth.
When Nick returned to the crowd, he encountered Ben sharing a private joke with Kate. The radiating bride to-be laughed and gave Ben’s hand a playful slap. Her sublime beauty calmed him, and all at once Nick felt reassured. It distressed him the way Ben was always engaging his future wife with comforting witticisms, which were followed by genuine laughter. Nick had only seen her sad and depressed all day, but presently she joked and engaged graciously with their guests. He vowed to spend the rest of his life making her happy. When Nick approached, they sobered up and became so self-conscious he felt like a party crasher.
“Ben, check and see if Nanette needs a ride to the lounge,” he suggested and wrapped his arms protectively around Kate.
“She’s got the Saab,” Ben said, but he went Nick’s Goth sister anyway.
Anne Paull had corralled her daughter into a corner, and she was recounting for a small enthralled audience details of her daughter’s latest job in Detroit, as a stylist for a modeling agency that serviced beautiful suburban clients looking to score an easy ticket to New York or Milan. Tristana indulged her mother the momentary opportunity to live vicariously.
Tristana and Nick had never been close due to her resentment of their father for his perpetual favoritism of Nick for having been born with an XY chromosome. The doctor generally ignored his daughter, since she belonged to the unfortunate lesser species, relegated to live life sequestered to service the needs of the weaker sex. She could not remember ever hugging her own father, but then again, she could not remember him displaying any sort of affection toward Nick except for hearty backslaps and playful headlocks. She guessed what little affection he had to give was reserved for the bedroom of his mistresses.
The doctor’s macho, physical fitness obsession only served to encourage Tristana’s willful acts of rebellion. Back in junior high, she organized underground laxative parties for her girl friends. The idea was to bring a dessert to pass, pop a handful of laxatives, gorge and then fight for the toilet. It was after one of these deranged gatherings while plunging the clogged commode, the doctor made good on his threats to ship her away to boarding school. The last thing he needed were his patients streaming in with their binge-purging daughters. It was as if his own child’s single-handed mission was to ruin his career.
Nick considered it unfortunate he and his sister never really got to know one another until they both attended the same private college for wealthy kids intellectually unprepared to attend the University of Michigan. The idea was to keep one’s money in one’s own socio-economic sphere, which neither Paull offspring had done thus far. In Tristana’s own words, “You can take the hick outta the woods, but you can’t take the woods outta the hick.” Nick was marrying down while Tristana was smart enough only to sleep around down. For her mother’s sake, Tristana was holding out for a suitable gentleman who could truly afford her hand in marriage. But for the time being her gothic get-ups and dour demeanor would keep at bay any Brooks Brothers clad suitors.
“Nicky, let’s bust a move,” Tristana pleaded. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
“With Seth Poole?” Nick asked, still holding Kate’s shoulders from behind. She slid from his embrace and mingled with her circle of bridesmaids. Nick feared Kate would never feel comfortable in the company of his sister. Tristana was cordial enough, but she refused to hide her displeasure of Kate’s misguided attempts to exude worthiness with open embarrassment of her family. Embrace your roots, Tristana believed.
“I’d hardly call it a date. Isn’t the technical term extra-marital affair, Nanette?”
“Don’t be a little bitch,” she said, and added angrily, “Can’t you even try to remember, it’s Tristana now.”
“No.”
“Please, give me a break,” Tristana said riled. “I had to give whore-dad a lift here, and I was given the old – If you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll end up looking just like your mother speech. I’d kill for a cigarette, is Thad around?”
“No idea. Where’s dad?”
Tristana shrugged. “Check between the pews, he’s probably boning Kate’s matron of honor as we speak.”
“Well, Nanette, maybe you should head to the lounge,” Nick suggested.
Having lost her patience, she said loudly, “Tristana Tristana Tristana. Is it so damned difficult to remember?” Then she wrapped herself seductively around Ben and cast her brother a territorial smirk.
Nick rolled his eyes and said exasperated, “Eventually, you’ll take off all that black crap and become a hippie and change your name to Ankh or something equally ridiculous.”
Tristana laughed bitterly and said, “You’re a real laugh riot.” Then she asked coyly, “Will Kate’s brother be at the rehearsal dinner? I’d like to get a good look at this Jack character.”
“Only a look?”
“You’ve got a perverted mind.”
“He’s too young, even for you.”
“What’s crawled up your ass, Nicky?” she asked annoyed. “You’re acting like a total prick.”
“Okay, sorry,” he offered. “It’s the stress.”
“Forgiven. It’s just this kid Jack doesn’t sound nearly as morose as the rest of his boring family. Jesus, Nick, they’re all terminal cases, and Kate’s stiff as a corpse.” As an afterthought, Tristana added, “But you already know that, don’t you? You’ll start screwing around on her once she pops out the first brat, so why even bother?”
Nick walked away shaking his head, and despite Tristana’s obvious lack of genuine interest, Ben said, “I’ll follow you on my bike, okay?”
“Oh, get a clue,” Tristana snapped and walked away.
Before long, the fair-haired maidens and frat brothers made their exit. They piled in their cars and sped away to The Lounge. As if their automobiles were not enough to advertise their political affiliation, their Tauruses and Buicks were plastered with bumper stickers advertising Bush-Quayle.
In the dwindling cluster of guests, Kate thanked ever understanding Father Tim and apologized for her father’s absence, but the priest was more concerned about her missing juvenile delinquent brother. Regrettably, Kate said she had no idea where Jack was. While Nick informed Father Tim Jack rejected his most recent college spiel, Kate wrapped her arms around her future husband. Despite the fact Jack was disinterested in pursuing an education, Nick suggested perhaps the priest could recruit him to enlist in the monastery, if not a branch of the armed forces. Correctly, the priest observed it was a trying time for the Hesse family, and he encouraged them to have love and understanding in their hearts. They should keep praying for the best.
Nick comfortingly took Kate’s hand into his own, and Father Tim told him how lucky he was before wrapping his arms around Kate and Nick. The priest had baptized the Hesse children and their Feldpausch cousins, and he had watched Kate grow from a ponytailed tomboy into a charming young lady. Father Tim offered firsthand knowledge of what a wonderful girl Kate was and what a truly blessed family she came from. Kate smiled appreciatively, and she wondered when exactly everything became so sordid. It had been a long time since she had felt at all wonderful or blessed.
The priest gave them an emphatic squeeze and made his way to the exit of the church. Holding Nick’s hand in her own, she felt it was a crime she should feel so overwhelmed with unadulterated happiness. Now that they were alone, she turned to him and folded herself into his comforting grasp. If she could, she would hold onto him forever. Given a chance, she felt they could make one another complete. As they exited church, which was purposefully constructed to resemble the huge freighter her father sailed, they stopped on the steps. Kate spontaneously kissed her bridegroom. She wanted to litter his life with tokens of love and affection. Despite the recent chaos bogging down their lives, she felt overwhelmed with joy.
“Nick,” she whispered, “it doesn’t seem r
ight to feel so happy. Let’s promise to make tomorrow the best day of our lives.”
“I promise,” he answered, with only the faintest inkling this was the last time they would share any such intimacy. This moment was the last time Kate would feel anything resembling happiness for a long time to come. He had the sneaking suspicion she should have invested her precious time with someone more worthy, but for now, he was content to bask in her glowing adoration and complete satisfaction.
She felt as if she were going to collapse in his arms while radiating pure contentment, and she flashed him her perfect smile and gazed deeply into his soul with her big brown eyes. She had no idea that in as many months as it had taken for her to orchestrate the most perfect day of her life, it would take a mere few hours for the blissfulness to mutate into a nightmare. Kate buried her cheek into his chambray-clad chest and inhaled. Soon, he would be hers at last.
Holding her close, Nick said sincerely, “Kate, honey, I love you more than life itself, and I would never do anything intentionally to hurt you. I promise you always.”
“I love you so much,” she said and kissed him again and again.
Kate wished everyone could feel the love she felt because it was crashing against her insides with overwhelming ferocity. She could not wait until they officially became man and wife, even though in her heart, she felt as if they were as good as married could get. It was more than hope she clung to, it was a deep and abiding faith, and all she could muster she had invested in him.
chapter eleven
Hand in hand, Nick and Kate entered the dimly lit floral lounge where hungry guests awaited their arrival. Nick, wearing a sandstone summer suit, and Kate, in her too large, but tasteful off-white dress, looked as if they should be propped on top of an informal, second wedding cake. They smiled appreciatively at Ginny Norris as she graciously led them to the dining room, where they were met with a thunderous greeting. Their tender kisses only exacerbated the crashing waves of applause.
Trying the Knot Page 17
