by Gayle Keo
There were so many memories in that space and they were all reflected in Patrick's gaze as he looked at each piece of furniture, each poster, and each reminder of his younger years throughout the bedroom. It was as if he had never walked out of it six years before when they left together to join the Navy. Now with the years of SEAL training and their first tour behind them, they were finally back in their hometown. Even though they felt completely different, much of what they had seen had proven that nothing had really changed in the little town where they had both grown up.
"It hasn't," Patrick said.
"It's like your parents kept it as a shrine to you."
Patrick laughed and stepped into the room, seemingly broken out of the sentimental spell that had been cast over him by the sight of his childhood bedroom by his best friend's sarcasm. He dropped his bag to the floor beside Kevin's and immediately clambered up the ladder onto the top bunk of his old bunkbeds.
He had never had a sibling that occupied the bottom bunk, but he had asked for the beds when he was six, and, like always, his parents had obliged. When he met Kevin just a few weeks later, it was like he was being given the brother that was supposed to go into that second bed and his instant best friend ended up spending what seemed like just as much time, if not more, in that bottom bunkbed throughout their childhood than he did in his own bed at his home.
"That's fine with me. Maybe that's what made them keep the house rather than selling it when they retired to Florida. They didn't want to interrupt a historical landmark."
Now it was Kevin's turn to laugh and flop onto his back on the lower bunk so that his position mimicked that of his lifelong best friend on the bed above him. He reached up and ran his fingers along the faded marks of the words and drawings that they had made there over the years. It was like looking at a collage of their lives, the handwriting and themes of the sentiments changing and becoming sharper and edgier as the boys grew older and the lines layered on top of the softer, more playful inscriptions of their younger years.
"That's a plausible idea," he said. "But I think it has a whole lot more to do with them wanting you to finally settle down and find some girl to marry and have a horde of little babies with. They figured that if you had a house to live in, you would just have to fill it up with a family or it wouldn't make sense."
"Yeah," Patrick said. "That will definitely be happening some time soon." Kevin heard him give a derisive laugh. "After six years in the Navy, I have no interest in getting tied down. They are just going to have to be happy with me living here with an equally not tied-down roommate for the time being."
"Speaking of which," Kevin said, swinging his legs off of the side of the bed so that he could stand up and grab his bag. "I'm going to go peruse the bedrooms and decide which one is mine."
"Peruse?" Patrick asked with another laugh. "You sure did pick up some fancy words during the tour."
"They sound good to the girls," Kevin told him. "Something about a man in uniform who sounds smart. They love it."
"Yeah, well, that might work for the girls out there, but I wouldn't recommend wandering into the bar tonight wearing your uniform. I think the girls around here are all too used to you to get fooled by that bull."
Kevin shot a glare over his shoulder at Patrick and walked out of the room. He was familiar enough with the rest of the house that he knew where all of the bedrooms were. Now that he was going to be living there with Patrick as adults, though, the space seemed different. He no longer had to think of the big room at the head of the hallway as Patrick's parents' room, or the smaller room between that room and Patrick's as his mother's sewing room. The room that had been Patrick's father's den was now empty except for rows of heavy bookshelves along one wall and a faded globe on the floor. The final bedroom at the opposite end of the hall had acted as the guest room, but as far as Kevin knew, had never had an actual guest. It had been preserved like Patrick's, exactly as it had been when they were children, complete with frilly white comforter set and pillows covered in a spray of miniature purple flowers and delicate green leaves.
*****
Patrick and Kevin spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking the truck that contained Kevin's belongings that they had gotten out of the storage unit where his parents had put them before they moved to another town. The family had never been particularly close, but that had been a difficult blow for Kevin to deal with when he got the letter from his mother informing him that they had sold the house that they had always lived in and were moving three towns over so that his father could be closer to his new job.
It had all sounded so positive and optimistic, but Patrick knew that that wasn't the case and that for the most part, the letter had been a lie. Kevin's family had never owned any of the houses that he lived in when he was growing up. Rather, they bounced around from rental property to rental property burning bridges with landlords and making more enemies out of their neighbors with their arguments and late night drunken screaming fits than they did friends.
As for leaving so that his father could be closer to his job, Patrick knew that Kevin's father had never been one to be able to maintain a job for more than a year or so and that at last count he had been without a job for more than a year and a half. More likely than him moving to be close to his job was, they had run out of people who were willing to rent to them and were now moving on in hopes of finding somebody who would hire such an undesirable candidate and rent to a couple without checking their rental history or credit.
Patrick had always felt bad for Kevin and the experiences that he had back home with his family, but he also knew that it was those experiences that made his friendship with him even more important. They were the closest of friends that either of them had ever had, and in a way he felt like having Kevin as his best friend gave his parents the second child that they had always desperately wanted, but had never been able to have, and had given Kevin the type of loving, supportive family that he had never been able to experience either. Almost as soon as they met, Kevin became a fixture at the dinner table, on weekend outings, in the yard playing, and even on family vacations. It was only logical that the two of them would decide to join the Navy and go for SEAL status together.
Once they had everything in the house, Patrick and Kevin took showers, got dressed, and headed out to the neighborhood bar where nearly all of the adults in town gathered on weekends. When they were just out of high school, the pair had spent evenings in the bar playing pool and eating the overly greasy food that filled the menu as they tried to stay beyond the 9 PM cut-off for anyone under the age of 21. Eventually they became such fixtures that in the last weeks before they deployed, they spent nearly all of their time at the bar collecting the good will and advice from the friends, family, and neighbors who gathered there to support them.
Walking back into the bar after more than a year since they had been able to visit on leave before their deployment was just as much coming home again as it had been to step in the house, and immediately Patrick felt the last of the tension and stress ease out of his muscles. They walked up to the bar and slipped onto two of the worn leather stools, but before they could even order their beers, Patrick heard a shout from across the room.
He turned toward the sound of their names being yelled in their direction and saw Evan pushing toward them through the crowd. One of their close friends from school, Evan was supposed to be there that night for their homecoming celebration, but the gleam in his eyes and the slight wobble in his step said that he had been there for much longer and might be celebrating something beyond just his friends coming back.
"Hey, Evan," Patrick said as his friend clasped his hand and pulled him in for a hug.
Evan stepped back and hugged Kevin, pounding him on the back a few jovial times.
"I'm going to do it," Evan announced, opening up his arms and sloshing a bit of beer over the edge of his glass.
"You're going to do what?" Patrick asked.
He looked over at the
bartender and gestured at the glass in Evan's hand with his eyes and then between Kevin and him with one finger. The bartender nodded and reached for two glasses, filling them with a frothy ale from the tap and sliding them toward the two men.
"I'm getting deployed."
"What?" Kevin asked, setting the beer his had picked up to sip down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I'm getting deployed."
"I thought you were in the reserves."
"I am, but my unit got called up. I'm leaving in six weeks."
"Wow," Patrick said, unsure of what else to say. Evan seemed unusually excited at the prospect and he wasn't sure what the appropriate response at that moment would be. "That's…"
Before he could finish, Evan whirled around and reached his arm out toward a blond woman standing a few feet away. She took his hand and let him pull her toward them.
"That's not the good part," he said. "This is."
"Hi," the woman said, extending her hand to them. "I'm Brandy."
"Brandy and I are getting married."
"Married?" Patrick asked.
He had never met this woman and the announcement was truly surprising to him.
"Yep. She just agreed to it a few minutes ago."
"That's great, Evan," Kevin said, sounding more convinced than Patrick was feeling, but still hesitant. "When's the big day?"
"As soon as possible," Evan said. "We want to do it before I leave. I wanted to ask the two of you if you'll be my groomsmen."
Patrick looked at Kevin and then back at Evan. They both nodded. Regardless of the circumstances, their friend was getting married and they knew that it was their responsibility to be there for him.
"Of course," Patrick said, lifting his glass as if in toast of Evan.
"Awesome," Evan said. He looked back over his shoulder and another blond woman, this one smaller and slightly younger-looking than the first, walked up. "This is Brandy's sister, Eileen."
"You'll be helping me plan the wedding."
Patrick was so lost in Eileen's big green eyes and the swell of her hips beneath her tight jeans that he almost missed that sentence. When it sank in he snapped his eyes to Evan and then back to Eileen.
"What?"
*****
"What do you mean we're going to be helping you plan the wedding?" Patrick asked.
Eileen looked up at her sister, who glanced over at Evan, who looked at Patrick and Kevin sheepishly. He shifted around for a few seconds as if he were trying to come up with the right thing to say at that moment.
"I should probably have mentioned that, huh?"
"Mentioned what?" Kevin asked, his voice leading like he wanted to force Evan to say exactly what he was thinking.
"Well…" Evan hesitated for a few more moments before going into his explanation. "I probably should have mentioned that the position of groomsmen comes with the fun and responsibility of helping Eileen plan Brandy and my wedding."
"Fun?" Kevin said unsurely.
Evan nodded, seeming to smile as wide as he could so that he could demonstrate just how much fun it would be for the two confirmed bachelors to team up with a woman they didn't even know to plan a last-minute wedding.
"It'll be a blast," Eileen said. She looked at the bartender and gestured for another drink, accepting it when he held it out to her. "Want to go sit down and talk about it a bit?"
The last thing that Patrick wanted to do at that moment was go sit and talk about a wedding, but he did want to continue looking at Eileen, so he was willing to go along with it. He nodded and followed Eileen as she led him toward a booth in a shadowy corner of the bar. He could feel Kevin following behind him and heard Brandy whispering to Evan as they walked away. He felt somewhat ambushed by the sudden proposal that he and Kevin be the ones that were going to put together Evan's wedding. But the sway of Eileen's hips and the soft glisten of her hair in the lights of the bar helped to lessen the negative feelings.
When they reached the booth, Eileen slid into the seat on one side of the table and positioned herself directly in the middle of the cushion, indicating that she expected the two men to sit on the other side facing her. They complied, sliding into place and setting their beers in front of them and staring at her expectantly.
"I know that you probably aren't thrilled to be roped into doing this, especially when you just got home and you were expecting a celebration for the two of you," she said, taking a sip of her own drink.
"It's an interesting change of events," Patrick said, wanting to agree with her but also not wanting to sound like he didn't care about how Evan felt.
"Evan has been really excited about the two of you coming home and being in the wedding," she said seriously. "He says that you two are the closest friends that he still has."
That statement sent a slight wave of guilt through Patrick and he looked at Kevin, giving him an expression that he knew would speak to his best friend without him having to use words. They had been able to communicate that way since they were very young and were still able to tell what the other one was thinking just by looking at each other.
"What can we do?" Patrick asked.
Eileen shifted, straightening her back in a way that made her breasts push out toward him. She didn't look pleased about the situation, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the lovely cleavage now appearing over the neckline of her shirt.
"You don't have to do much," she said. "I've already picked a place for the ceremony and found an officiant. I can handle most of the details myself."
"Then why did he want us to do anything?" Kevin asked.
"He thinks that you will make sure that the wedding is something that he will enjoy and that you'll take some of the burden off of me. I told him that I can take care of it and that you wouldn't want anything to do with it, but for some reason he insisted that you would be happy to be a part of it. I say that we just chat here for a few more minutes and then I'll put the wedding together and we can pretend that you helped if they ask."
Patrick felt a surge of defensiveness and stared at her, trying to see past the slightly unpleasant look on her face so that he could talk to her without getting even more defensive than he already felt.
"You don't even know us. How could you possibly know that we wouldn't want to have anything to do with planning the wedding?"
"Guys don't ever want anything to do with weddings."
"How many times have you been married?"
"Never," she admitted somewhat reluctantly.
"And how many weddings have you planned with guys helping you?"
"None."
"But you automatically know exactly what all men are thinking and how we are going to react?"
Eileen looked somewhat stunned. She blinked a few times and made small sounds like she couldn't quite bring the right words forward.
"I guess I don't."
"No, you don't. Evan is a really great guy and he was one of our best friends in high school. If he wants us to help plan this wedding for him, then it's not really your place to decide if we are going to do it or what we are going to do."
"Alright," Eileen said, some of the terseness coming back to her voice. "Here's my phone number." She pulled a pen from the small purse she had been carrying and scribbled numbers on her napkin. "Call me tomorrow and we'll figure out a time for you to come to my house to see everything that I've done so far and we can figure out where to go from there."
Patrick took the napkin and tucked it into his pocket.
"Fine," he said. "We'll do that."
Eileen grabbed her drink and slid out of the booth, stomping back across the bar toward her sister.
"What the hell did you just do?" Kevin asked when she was out of earshot.
Patrick looked at him and shook his head.
"I have no idea," he said. "She was just pissing me off and I reacted."
"So you don't actually want to be a part of this whole wedding planning thing?"
Before Patrick c
ould tell Kevin that he didn't know the first thing about planning a wedding and that they would have to try to figure out a way to get out of it, Evan showed up at the edge of the table. He was beaming, much of it undoubtedly coming from the beer he had already consumed throughout the evening, and he gazed back and forth between Patrick and Kevin.
"You guys are the best," he said, slurring slightly, but sounding genuinely delighted. "I'm so happy you're going to be a part of this with me."
Patrick looked at Kevin again, who looked at Evan with a forced look of excitement.
"Of course, buddy. We're happy to do it for you."
Obviously not recognizing the tension behind the expression or the words, Evan smiled even bigger and raised his glass as if to toast his own upcoming nuptials. Patrick picked up his own glass and took a swig.
"It's going to be great."
*****
"What is it that we are supposed to be doing here, again?" Kevin asked.
Patrick turned off the engine of his car and leaned so he could look over Kevin through the passenger window at Eileen's house. He was now looking at the way she had approached them about getting their help with the wedding planning as a competition and didn't want to give her any more leverage by showing up to their first planning meeting late so now they were sitting in front of her house ten minutes before they were supposed to arrive.
"I don't know," Patrick said, sitting back. "I've never even been to a wedding much less helped plan one."
"You've really never been to a wedding?" Kevin asked, sounding surprised.
Patrick thought back for a few minutes and then shrugged.
"Actually, yeah, I have. I was six and it was for a distant cousin who I had never met and who I haven't seen since. It was also in her backyard followed by cake and punch in her living room, and I'm fairly certain her new husband then left with all of the guys to go to a bar. So I'm not sure that that would exactly be considered a prime example of a wedding."
