by Mysti Parker
“Shit, it’s hot,” I whisper.
The preacher, Brother Donner, looks up from his book and clears his throat, shaking his head at me as though I’m about to roast in hell. This must be a preview. He’s your classic Baptist preacher, with a generous belly formed from homecoming buffets, wedding receptions, and funeral meals.
I pull at my suit to move some air around and try to imagine I’m somewhere cold.
“What’s the matter?” Jesse asks. “Nervous?”
“No, just hot. Why do the ladies get to wear short, sleeveless outfits while we have to bake in these penguin suits? I’m sweating like a whore in church.”
The preacher clears his throat again, louder.
Jesse chuckles. “I thought you liked wearing suits.”
“Oh, I can rock a suit, but I’d rather go commando any day.”
Brother Donner lowers his book and puts a hand on his hip, levelling a brimstone glare at me.
“Sorry.”
Jesse laughs. At least he’s not as nervous now. That is, until the DJ pauses the music and starts up the wedding march.
Jesse tugs at his collar again. He’s turned two shades whiter. The audience goes quiet, everyone craning their necks to watch the ladies as they begin their procession. With me as the only groomsman, and Avery as the only bridesmaid, it won’t take long.
Avery’s brother, Adam, serves as usher and escorts Jo down the aisle. Jo’s glistening eyes are already on the verge of spilling tears. I hope her handbag is full of tissues. Adam leads her to a chair on the front row. Since Leigh’s an only child, Avery has recruited some of her family members to help out. Adam is her youngest sibling, a college freshman, I think she said. He’s tall and lanky, with darker hair and eyes than Avery’s, but I can see the resemblance. A couple of her older sisters are helping with the food, while her mother will handle the lesser known details such as handling the guest book so thank-you notes can be sent for gifts.
Missing in action is Avery’s dad, who is out of town for work. I hate to say it, but I’m kinda relieved. No guy wants to make eye contact with the father of the woman he’s fucking, and I’m pretty sure it’s even worse coming from the father’s point of view.
One of her nieces and one of her nephews come bouncing down the aisle as the flower girl and ring bearer. The little girl has curly blonde hair tied up in a big white silk bow. She has big eyes and dainty facial features. I bet Avery looked just like that as a kid. Her nephew has reddish blond hair, freckles, and is missing his two front teeth. For a brief moment, I wonder if my kids would look like that if things were different, and Avery and I were really getting married.
That thought must be squashed and forgotten. Not going to happen.
At the end of the path, Avery comes walking into the light. Her bouquet is a smaller version of Leigh’s, and she’s added subtle twinkling green lights among the flowers to simulate fireflies. That elicits some appreciative gasps and whispers among the audience. Avery’s eyes flick to those who notice, and her smile grows wider. Now I realize that every wedding is like an advertisement for Avery’s business. If it goes wrong, it makes her look bad, and off people go to Louisville to a big brand shop. It makes sense that she’d be anxious with that much at stake.
The closer she gets, though, the more I appreciate the work of art that is Avery Price. Her hair is swept up in a mass of curls, intertwined with crystals that glitter in the torchlight. The dress fits her perfectly. Sequins on the bodice also reflect the light. I smile, remembering how it looked on her last night when I had her pinned against the dressing room mirror. Where last night, her skin glistened with sweat, tonight she has a subtle layer of glitter on her chest and shoulders and a bit on her cheeks. Any one of tonight’s accessories alone wouldn’t be memorable, but together, they have a magical effect.
Her eyes meet mine as she takes the two steps up into the gazebo to stand opposite me on the preacher’s right. She holds my gaze until the music grows louder and more intense, announcing the bride’s arrival. Her eyes are brimming with tears and hope. Those few seconds tell me she wants more than our fake arrangement.
More than I can give.
I tug at my necktie again.
Jesse leans in and whispers, “You’re next.”
“Not really,” I whisper from one corner of my mouth.
“We’ll see.”
He stands up straight, and I can’t help notice how he looks at Leigh as she walks down the grassy “aisle” with her dad. My brother is seriously, 100 percent in love. It’s almost palpable. Leigh harbors the same feeling in her expression. I should be nauseated by it, but I’m not. Instead, a lump forms in my throat, and my eyes get misty. Blinking the emotion away, I catch a glimpse of Avery. Her eyes are glued to me. She averts her gaze and focuses again on Leigh.
Leigh’s dad is doing his best to keep it together. His chin trembles when the preacher asks who gives this woman to this man, answering, “H-her m-mother and I do.”
Then he takes Leigh’s hand and joins it to Jesse’s, giving them both a squeeze. He kisses his daughter on the cheek, then goes to sit by Jo, who’s now wiping tears from both cheeks.
Leigh hands her bouquet off to Avery to join both hands with Jesse’s. The preacher begins the usual ceremony, and honestly, I don’t hear most of it. I’m doing my best to keep it together. One part of me wants to grab Avery and whisk her off somewhere quiet, and another part of me wants to run the hell away. I can do neither, so I just repeat to myself breathe and smile, breathe and smile.
And then the preacher breaks tradition with, “Now the couple wants to recite their own vows.”
Jesse clears his throat, glancing out at the audience with a look of utter fear on his face.
Leigh squeezes his hands tighter, then whispers, “You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Um…” He draws a deep breath, then begins, “Ever since I walked into your office for counseling, I knew you were more than just a therapist. I felt something in here.” He ducks his chin toward his chest. “You showed me that not only could I make amends to the people that I hurt, but that I could be a better man, and that I was worthy of forgiveness. Worthy of loving, and worthy of you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Leigh, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you how grateful I am that you walked into my life.” He smiles, and it’s like he’s forgotten anyone is there except for him and Leigh. “Or rather, that I walked into yours.”
Jo lets out a sob, but presses her tissue-filled hand to her chest and manages to keep it in check. Roscoe hugs her up with one arm and with the other, holds her hand.
Leigh is next. She never takes her eyes off her soon-to-be husband. “Jesse, when you walked into my office, you were the last person I thought I’d have as a client, much less marry.” They both smile as the audience laughs softly. “But despite my reservations, you proved to be so much more than the man I thought you were, and that may be the only time I’ll be happy to admit to you that I was wrong.”
More laughs, especially from Jesse. Even Avery and I have to laugh at that one.
Leigh continues, “But most of all, you showed me that I could take a chance on loving someone, no matter what the future may bring. You gave me the courage to let go of the fear and doubt, and embrace happiness. And I couldn’t be happier that you walked into my life and, even if tomorrow never comes, I’ll make the most of every single moment we are blessed to share. I love you more than words can ever say.”
Jo bursts into full-on crying. Roscoe rubs her back and shushes her softly, even though tears are dripping off his cheeks. Half the audience is sniffing and wiping their eyes. Avery is fanning her face, blinking rapidly, not wanting to ruin her makeup. Tears burn my eyes, too, so I swipe them away before she can see it. Seeing me show this much emotion might push her over the edge. Or give her the wrong idea. I try to hold as apathetic an expression as possible, although I’m probably failing miserably.
Then there’s the rest of the traditional wedding seq
uence. The ring bearer holds the pillow up to me, where I untie Jesse’s ring and hand it to my brother. Avery does the same thing with Leigh’s ring. They’re pronounced husband and wife, kiss a little too long, and then off they go, arm in arm, up the aisle.
Avery and I follow, meeting at the bottom of the gazebo steps. I hold out my elbow, and she takes it, and then unexpectedly grabs my hand and interlaces her fingers with mine. Of course everyone notices, and the talking stirs up again as the applause begins to fade.
I lead her quickly to the tent and take her aside while Leigh and Jesse get settled to greet their guests.
“Wasn’t it beautiful?” Avery exclaims.
I loosen my tie and take off my suit jacket. “Yeah, it was. You did an amazing job with all this.”
“Really? You think so?” She gazes up at me with wide, wet eyes, smiling so brightly I can’t quite form the words I need to say.
Swallowing past that annoying lump in my throat, I finally get it together. “Listen, I know everyone believes we’re engaged, but we can’t be so…” Fighting to finish, I wave my hand as though it’ll stir up the right words.
“So what?” Avery recoils a bit, her eyes losing their sparkle.
“So…clingy.” I nod and smile as a couple pass by, then add, “If they see you being all lovey-dovey on me, it’ll make the ‘annulment’ that much harder. One of us will have to take the biggest hit, and that’ll probably be me.”
She lowers her head and stares at her bouquet, picking at the baby’s breath. “I get it, and I’m sorry. I just thought…never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She shrugs and walks away toward the bridal party table.
Shit. I’ve been strapped to an emotional roller coaster. One minute ago, I was enjoying the ride, and now, I’ve sunk to the bottom, about as low as a man can get.
But maybe that’s a good thing. I can’t let her indulge this fantasy of happily ever after. I’ll never be what she wants me to be. That’s bad enough, but when I tell her what I know about her wreck, she may wind up with a hurt so deep that it will never heal.
This shouldn’t be so hard for me. I’m going to need a drink. Or three.
Chapter Fourteen
Avery
The next weekend…
We made a deal. I keep repeating this to myself, though accepting it is easier said than done. Wind whips through my hair and smacks it across my cheeks. I hate how that feels and rarely drive with my windows down. But I’m riding in Jack’s convertible Lotus whatever, and the sting helps distract me from useless ideas about how to make him love me.
Wind or no wind, the thought occurs to me that I’ve turned into the kind of woman I can’t stand. You know, the desperate, suction-cup type who thinks she has to have a man to be happy. Deep down, I know that’s not the case, but it sure would be easier if I didn’t think he could make me happy.
Jack Maddox has the potential to be a keeper, but from the looks of it, I’ll have to throw him back in the sea of untouchable bachelors.
He gently shakes my leg. “Avery?”
“Oh, what?”
“I asked if you want to stop for lunch first.”
“Sure, just stop wherever.”
“Okay…” He’s driving one-handed, with his other arm propped up on the windowsill. “Burgers?”
“No burgers. My stomach’s not feeling it.”
Jack smiles. “Fine, then how about Chinese?”
“Eh. Not really feeling like Chinese either.”
“Pizza?”
“Maybe. On second thought, no. Too heavy. I can’t keep gaining weight. We have a pretend wedding soon.”
And what if it's not just weight? What then?
He laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, let’s just grab some snacks at the gas station.”
“Okay.”
We fall into silence again.
Then Jack says, “You’re nervous about the weekend, aren’t you?”
“Well, wouldn’t you be, bringing a fake fiancé home to meet your dad? Your strict, military dad?”
His expression darkens.
“Oh…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine.” He goes quiet a moment, then adds, "My...Lori thinks he would have liked you."
"Really? Wow. I wish..." I'm not even sure what to say, having never been in that situation. "I wish I could have met him and that, you know, things could have gone differently for you."
"Me too." He glances over with a soft smile, sadness weighing down the corners of his eyes.
“Where’s your mom staying now?”
“She’s spending a few days with Pa.”
“Was he shocked to see her?”
“Yeah, but I think he’s glad to have her back. She’s his only kid, after all.”
“Does Jesse know yet?”
“I called him and told him yesterday. They’ll be home from their honeymoon on Sunday, so I didn’t want him to be surprised.”
“What did he say?”
“Not a lot, but that’s Jesse. He thanked me for calling him and told me to keep an eye on her while she’s with Pa. With Emmalee there this weekend, I think he’ll be okay.”
More silence. Unasked questions and tension builds in my head, making my pulse race until it pounds in my ears. We had decided to pay a visit to my family so Jack can introduce himself to the rest of my siblings and my dad before we take over the farm to stage our fake wedding. Considering Jack's family traumas, it all feels wrong, taking advantage of my somewhat functional, all-American family while he never had that luxury.
“Maybe we should just cancel,” I blurt out. “We can tell them we came down with food poisoning or something.”
“From what you’ve told me, and the little I witnessed when your mom and sister saw me buck naked, I don’t think they’ll leave you alone until they know I’m the real thing.” He glances at me and shrugs. “Even though we both know that’s bullshit. But hey, we can put on a good act, get them off your back, and carry on with the plans.”
He has a point. “Okay.” I chew one of my fingernails and focus on turning the radio channels.
Car trips still make me nervous. Any sudden braking sends adrenaline coursing through me, which carries with it flashes of memory. The world flipping. CDs, paper, and sunglasses pelting my forehead and chest. Orange soda spraying icy, sticky wet all over my face, screaming “Oh God!” and thinking I had found him when I woke under the fluorescent lights of the ICU.
If it weren’t for some kind Samaritan who pulled me from the wreckage, I would have burned up along with my grandparents…
Jack reaches over and caresses my cheek. “It’ll be okay, Avery.”
“Will it?” I hold his gaze for a second and take his hand.
He concentrates on the road ahead, but to my surprise, he doesn’t pull away.
We pull into the little quick mart at the fork in the road that leads to my parents' house. Jack stops at a gas pump to fill up. Now's my chance to set my mind at ease. It only takes, what? Like three minutes or something?
"I'm going in," I say, trying not to sound too rushed. "Want me to bring you something?"
"No, I have to come inside to pay. There's no credit card reader on this pump. Imagine that."
"Okay."
Door chimes ring as I step inside. The smell of pine floor cleaner, cigarette smoke, and roasted wieners wafts right up my nose. My stomach rolls. I hold my breath and clench my lips together to keep from gagging. It's one of many such stores in rural Kentucky communities. A few local regulars roost at the two tables in the back, smoking and watching whatever's on the crookedly hung TV on the wall above them. Before I run out of oxygen, I grab a ginger ale from the drink cooler and a pregnancy test from the tiny toiletry section.
I hurry to the cashier where the smell's not so bad and take in a few shallow breaths. The middle-aged cashier has a thick mustache, greasy black hair, and is missing more than a few teeth.
"Will that be all?" he asks, eyeing the pregnancy
test curiously.
Crap, then I realize he's most likely seen me outside with Jack. I've bought plenty of emergency feminine products at gas stations with my cycles being so irregular. That's always a bit uncomfortable when the cashier is a guy, but this is a whole different kind of embarrassment, the kind that can easily get into Jerry Springer territory.
Glancing out the window, I see Jack's still at the pump, so I lean in and whisper, "That's all, but let's keep this between us, okay?"
He squints at me, then gives a knowing nod. "Don't worry. I got me a few baby mamas. Wife don't know about a couple of them. Just make sure he pays child support."
"I'm sure it's a false alarm, but thanks." I quickly pay in cash, cram the test into my purse, and hightail it to the women's room.
Luckily, there are no stalls, just a single toilet with a door I can lock. No chance of witnesses. But why am I worried? It's just a routine test so I'll know for sure. That's all.
The smell in here is only marginally better, thanks to one of those cone-shaped air fresheners that sits on top of the toilet. I get the test out of my purse and quickly read the instructions. Simple enough. Pee on the stick. Wait two minutes. Two lines means pregnant. One means not pregnant.
I do as it says, peeing on the stick for five seconds – crap, or was it ten? – okay, ten. Then I cap it, set it on the back of the toilet, and set the timer on my phone. Then I finish up and wash my hands.
I will not look. I will not look. There's no reason to look. Nothing to look at. I'll just be throwing it away and walking out...
Someone knocks on the door. Jack's muffled voice comes through. "Avery? You okay in there?"
"I'm okay!" My heart jumps around like a ball tossed between the bumpers of a pinball machine. Thirty seconds on the clock. From the corner of my eye, that white plastic stick taunts me. "It's, um, just number two!"
"Oh, take your time, then. Want any food?"
I will not look. I will not look. Twenty-five seconds.
"No, thanks!" My stomach growls and lurches. How can I be hungry and nauseous at the same time?
"Okay, just meet me at the car."
