He put his arm around her and pulled her tight against him. Hayley took Tori’s free hand and squeezed it. Bull leaned in close from Joe’s other side. Tori felt like a fortress of friendship surrounded and supported her. Despite the situation, it almost made her smile.
“What do you think?” Joe asked her quietly so no one but the four of them could hear.
She studied his expression. They hadn’t had time to finish their conversation this morning, but both of them were here. Neither one of them had backed out when the excuses were vague warnings about the future. She didn’t think either of them wanted to back out now, even with this clear and compelling reason to postpone.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that we need a minister and two witnesses.” She looked around the room. “Which we have.”
Joe’s eyes widened a bit when he caught her meaning. “Do it now?”
“It would be a shame for so many people to miss it if the weather clears,” Hayley said. “Mickey’s not here.”
“We don’t have any of our wedding clothes,” Bull said. “But we don’t live far. We could run and get them. Still, if we were to go out in the weather now, why not go out in the morning? Even if it ends up being just the four of us.”
Despite the fighting over the wedding, Tori still wanted all of her family there. She only planned to do it once.
“What about the people who might get snowed in tonight?” Hayley asked.
Bull shrugged. “I’m an early riser.” He looked over his shoulder at the waiting sets of parents and turned back to Joe. “Give me addresses of who you absolutely want to be here tomorrow, and I’ll call some of our friends. We’ll dig everyone out in the morning in time to get here by eleven.” He looked at Hayley and said, “We can split up a list of the guests and start making calls letting them know the wedding is still on, but only to come out if they feel comfortable driving in the weather.”
Hayley smiled at Bull, then said to Tori, “We’ll be sure everyone knows you guys understand if they don’t want to drive. We’ll remind your relatives of the reception your moms are throwing when you get back from your honeymoon.”
Tori looked at Joe and smiled. The generosity of their friends amazed her. “Well?”
Joe kissed her soundly. “Looks like we’re still going to have our Christmas Eve wedding.”
Chapter 11
JOE woke up slowly. Such weird dreams last night. In the one he remembered best, he was helping Iron Man save New York from aliens. One alien attacked him from behind and Joe went down. He woke up in Tony Stark’s lab, connected by wires to the inside of the Iron Man suit, healing faster than ever.
That was a fun dream. Joe wished he didn’t have to wake up. He felt Snickers move beside him, and he reached over to scratch his cat.
“Hey, buddy. What day is it anyhow? I feel wrecked.”
Snickers purred and stretched under his hand.
Joe rolled onto his back and felt something hard. He reached behind him and retrieved an iron pipe. As the metal touched his hand, a gentle whoosh of energy rippled through his body. All the memories of the day before rushed to the surface.
Today was his wedding day!
Joe sat up and pulled back the covers, much to Snickers’ annoyance. All kinds of metalworks were taped to most of his body. Only a couple of pieces had come off in the night. He checked out his right thigh.
Last night, Bull had helped him into his dad’s office while Tori and his mom were out with the carolers. They made sure no one saw them because he could hardly walk. Owen had acted like a father first, then a field medic, then the Guild leader — he’d hugged his son, then made Joe undress to his boxers so he could examine his wounds, then reprimanded him for getting in a fight without his super suit.
“That’s why Mickey put the body armor in it!” he yelled.
That’s when Joe knew his leg was as damaged as it felt. “Pastor” Owen rarely yelled.
His dad and Bull had argued with him about going to the hospital. Joe reminded them that every time he’d gone in the past, his body was mostly healed by the time he ever got to see a doctor.
So they decided to tape as much iron and steel to his body as they could, and see how he felt at the end of the wedding rehearsal. Bull and Owen raided Owen’s garage and came back with an impressive collection of wrenches and pipes, and a roll of duct tape.
Joe saw the tape and demanded Bull get a roll of paper towels. The metal needed to be in contact with his skin for him to gain power from it, but he wanted a layer of paper towels before they taped everything down.
“I don’t want to explain to my wife on our honeymoon why it looks like I wax my legs,” he said.
“Plus it would hurt like Hades,” Bull chuckled.
Last night, when Joe had seen his leg for the first time — and that was after two hours of healing — his entire right hip and thigh was a huge black bruise.
Looking at it this morning, Joe was amazed to see much of the bruising had already faded to yellow. Still sitting on the bed, he flexed his knee, bringing his heel to his buttocks, listening for any crunching sounds. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to his dad, but Joe felt pretty confident he’d broken a bone.
The flexing didn’t hurt, so Joe did it again. Still no crunching noise.
“Thank you, God,” he breathed. He sagged with relief, letting his face fall into his hands. His wedding day could have gone very differently, verybadly.
He moved Snickers and swung his legs over the side of his bed. No vertigo or nausea. No pain in his leg, hip, knee, back. He was about ready to stand up when something caught his attention. He sniffed the air.
Bacon.
Joe stood, giving himself another minute to test his leg. Everything seemed to work fine. It didn’t hurt, just felt like he’d knocked his leg against something.
Yeah, something likea lug wrench.
The door opened and his little brother, Stuart, walked in. “Hey, morning, I’m supposed to — aw, for Pete’s sake, put some shorts on, will ya? I’m supposed to check your leg, see if we need to leave the hardware taped on or not. Then feed you all the protein and vitamin C you can inhale.”
As he spoke, Stuart waited for Joe to pull his boxers on, then he checked out Joe’s leg, prodding it and looking at the bruises on the back that Joe couldn’t see.
“How’s it look?” Joe asked, trying to twist around.
Stuart stood up. “You scared the hell out of us last night, man.” He gave Joe a hard backslapping hug. “I can’t believe how much better it looks. Can you walk on it?”
Joe cocked an eyebrow at him. “I walked on it last night.” He moved to the closet, to the bathroom door, to the dresser, and back without limping.
Stuart snorted. “I mean, does it hurt?”
Joe grinned. “Wanna dance?”
“You’re such a blockhead. Why would you get in a fight without—”
Joe held up his hand. “Save it. I heard it from Mom and Dad last night, and Mickey before that. I’m sure I’ll hear more today. When’s that bacon gonna be ready?”
“Shoot!” Stuart shot out the door and took the steps two at a time. A moment later, he shouted, “Saved! Come and get it.”
Joe chuckled and pulled on some sweats. He picked up Snickers and started gingerly down the stairs. Nothing hurt, nothing creaked, nothing acted any differently.
Except that he still had every wrench his dad owned taped to his legs and arms. That felt pretty weird.
Downstairs, Stuart put a mound of scrambled eggs covered in another mound of bacon in front of him. Joe raised his eyebrows at his brother and chuckled in disbelief.
“Mom said.” Stuart planted two tall glasses of orange juice in front of him. “By the way, you’re out of eggs now.” He brought another plate of bacon and eggs to the kitchen table for himself. “Thank you, God, for keeping Dopey here from getting killed, and please bless him and Tori with an awesome day.”
Joe grinned. “Amen.” They both dug int
o their breakfasts. Joe was pleasantly surprised. “Since when can you cook?”
Stuart chewed and swallowed. “Since I’m in college and don’t eat at normal times.” He ate a huge forkful of eggs. “Mom’s been bribing me. She’s only been teaching me how to make my favorite foods. So far, I can do bacon and eggs, hamburgers and frozen French fries, and chocolate chip cookies.”
“A balanced diet.” Joe heard a sound from the front of the house and turned. “Was that a snowplow?”
“Bull dug out your truck already. It’s still snowing, but pretty lightly. If that was a plow, I’ll go shovel out what the plow threw in the drive after you get out of the shower.”
Joe gave his brother a questioning look.
Stuart rolled his eyes. “Mom said to talk to you while you shower so I can help you if you pass out or fall or something.”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah, well, she was wiping at her eyes and pretending she wasn’t crying, so I’m going to do as she asked. We can talk about my list of souvenirs I want you to look for at Disney World.”
After breakfast, Stuart cut all the duct tape off Joe and lay the metal tools aside. Joe sat on his bed in his boxers again, trying to decide how he felt. Definitely weaker.
“So now I know for sure where my strength comes from,” he said.
“Psalm 121, man,” said his brother. “Anyone else would be laid up for weeks. You wanna lie down?”
Joe shook his head. He did, but it was already 8:30 a.m. “I want to get to the church.”
Stuart chuckled. “I guess it’s a good sign for your marriage that you’re an eager groom.”
Joe showered without incident, so Stuart went to clear the end of the driveway while Joe shaved. As he ran the blade down his cheeks, he thought about Tori’s reactions last night. He’d asked his friends and family to keep her occupied until he could sit down so she wouldn’t see him stumble in.
He rinsed the blade under the water and glanced at his bruised leg. He’d been badly hurt yesterday. It was stupid to keep going like he did. And the way Tori treated the situation calmly, helping him without making it noticeable, he was more convinced than ever that they were going to make a great team.
Joe promised himself now that if he ever got hurt like that again, he’d allow himself to be taken to the hospital. Testing his limits was hardly worth finding out the hard way what his body couldn’t heal by itself.
His home phone rang. He glanced up in surprise. He rarely got calls on his home number. Then he remembered that his cell phone looked worse than he did. He walked over and answered the extension by his bed.
“Hey, Joe.” Detective Arturo Paredes of the SLU was on the other end. His voice came through with a cheerful ring. “I wanted to give you a little Christmas gift. Those guys you and your team caught for us at the mall yesterday, confirmation just came in that we got them all. Thanks to your friend, Tick Tock, we were able to find the vans the thieves were filling,and the warehouse they used to store and sell the merchandise.”
“That’s great news, Art,” Joe said, a sense of pride and accomplishment washing over him. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I heard you got hurt helping us take them down, and I wanted you to know it was worth it. We found guns in two of the cars. We think they might’ve been looking to upgrade their efforts.”
“Wow.” Joe hated to think what would’ve happened to the young woman in the Mercedes who fought the thieves for her packages. And he definitely didn’t want to think of what would’ve happened if his attacker had used a gun instead of a lug wrench.
“Yeah,” Art said, “bad news. But the good news is they’re off the street, thanks to you. Listen, I know you’re getting married today — congratulations — so I’ll let you get back to it. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Art,” Joe said. “Thanks for the call.”
When he clicked off, he stared at his phone for a moment. Then he smiled into the mirror. He had a hard job, but he made a difference in people’s lives. That was worth it.
He finished shaving, dressed in his tuxedo sans bow tie, and patted on some cologne. If his wet hair didn’t freeze into icicles between here and church, he was about ready.
Stuart helped him load his suitcase and duffle into the truck, then Joe put Snickers in his carrier and grabbed the bag of cat stuff Stuart and Melissa would need for the week.
“Got everything?” Stuart asked from the door.
“Just need me a bride,” Joe said with a grin, and locked up his house.
At the church, the parking lot was plowed and there were a lot of cars already there. Inside, there werea lot more people, most walking around with cups of coffee and baked goods.
Joe turned to Stuart and found his brother grinning widely.
“Bull and Mickey and your other friends starting picking people up an hour ago and bringing them in, then going out for more. Mom’s Bible study came in to make coffee and muffins for everyone while they waited. And three deacons came over to plow the parking lot and shovel the sidewalks. I think they’re shoveling them a second time already.”
Joe stood there with his mouth open, stunned.
“After you two leave for the airport, we’ll start ferrying everyone back to their homes,” Stuart said. “I wanted to hang with you this morning, so I’m on duty later.”
“When did everyone decide to do all this?” Joe asked. “I just saw all you guys last night.”
Stuart shrugged. “You know how it is at church, kind of an avalanche effect.” He swung his head toward the weather outside. “No pun intended.”
Joe was still feeling a little punch-drunk when his mother came around the corner. “There you are!” She hugged him tight, then kissed his cheek. “How’s my boy?” she asked in a quieter voice.
“I’m fine, Mom,” he said, returning her hug.
“Stuart, how is he?” she asked.
“He’s in better shape than I was when he tackled me playing touch football at Thanksgiving,” he said. “And he ate everything you wanted him to, washed behind his ears, and packed his teddy bear for his honeymoon.”
Hannah pressed her lips together and smacked her youngest son in the shoulder. Then she hugged him, too. “Thank you for being there,” she said, her feelings running close to the surface, making her voice quiver.
“I’m glad he came over,” Joe said. “We watched old movies and braided each other’s hair.”
Both men laughed when Hannah smacked Joe’s shoulder, too.
“Come with me.” She took Joe’s hand. “Let’s go see your father. Stuart, get something to eat.”
Hannah led Joe to his dad’s office. He could guess what they wanted to discuss with him, but at least with the obvious wedding activity going on, canceling the wedding was finally off the list of potential topics. He figured it would be about seeing a doctor or telling Tori about the family’s legacy of powers.
“Joe, how are you?” Owen got up from his desk and hugged his son hard, then slapped him on the back. He pulled back only enough to leave his hands on Joe’s shoulders. “How’s the leg?”
Bingo. First guess. “It’s good,” Joe said. “The bruises are already yellow, and I’m not limping. No pain.”
“Let’s see,” said his mother. Joe walked to the door and back. “No, let’s see your leg,” she insisted.
“Mom, I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m not taking my pants off in front of you. It’s fine. If you don’t believe me, ask Stuart.” Joe loved his parents, but they never seemed to stop…parenting.
“Your mother wants you to get an x-ray,” Owen said, hands on his hips.
Hannah cleared her throat.
“We both do,” his dad amended.
Joe took a deep breath. He normally believed in the wisdom of “pick your battles.” But there was quite literally no time to get an x-ray, get married, and get on a plane by three o’clock today.
It was possible his dad would let up on his “tell Tori” campaign if Joe gave in on this item. But then they’d be a day or two late for their honeymoon. He’d rather be relaxing with Tori than hanging out with his family, wishing he were alone with his new wife.
He thought of where in particular he’d like to be relaxing with her. Hey, right. Bed rest.
“If there were time, I would do it just to set your minds at ease,” he said. “But without saying too much to myparents”—he eyed them both sternly—“I’m going to spend much of the next week in bed. If the leg starts hurting again, I’ll get an x-ray right away. I promise.”
His mom and dad looked at each other and did that silent communication thing they did. He wondered when he and Tori would start doing that. No doubt it would irritate their children. That would be fun.
“All right,” Owen finally said. “We’re trusting you on this. But as Guild leader, I’m giving you a verbal warning about getting involved in hand-to-hand combat without proper equipment.”
Joe opened his mouth to object. A verbal warning would be passed on to his team leader, Mickey. Written warnings about a Paladin could affect his whole team, keeping them from coveted assignments. A verbal warning, on the other hand, wouldn’t be a mark against Joe in the same way, but he’d never done anything to warrant anything but praise from his father in the past. This seemed unfair.
And yet, there was the “pick your battles” bit of wisdom. The warning wouldn’t hurt him as he worked his way up the ranks. He just needed to nod and take it.
Nod and take it. He gritted his teeth.
Then he nodded. “Okay.”
Owen gave a slight nod, then lowered his eyes. Joe wondered if his dad didn’t want to give the warning. He could have easily let it go. But good leaders couldn’t let things slide, not even with — especially not with — their own family. Joe suspected this was a lesson he needed to learn as he worked his way into his father’s position. He gave his father a nod of respect.
A Very Merry Superhero Wedding (Adventures of Lewis and Clarke) Page 13
