The Wedding Letters

by Jason F. Wright

  “I love my mom, obviously,” Rachel said. “She’s been through a lot. But your mom was more open and kind to me in a few hours than my mother has been in years.” Rachel offered a variation of those words many times and Noah nodded and smiled on each occasion. “And your dad is amazing, you know? My stepdad has been good to us. He’s provided a good life, paid for school, all that, but he’s never provided much else.”

  Noah loved observing and absorbing Rachel’s thaw.

  Over the next two weeks, Noah and Rachel went from dating to inseparable. They visited museums, the zoo, shared a kiss at night on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. They saw movies Rachel loved and Noah tolerated. They listened to music Noah downloaded from iTunes that Rachel couldn’t believe he actually paid for.

  As Noah dropped Rachel off one night at her apartment, he wondered aloud why another magical night had to end. She said it didn’t and dared him to drive them around the entire Capital Beltway, just to see how long it would take. So he did. But even then, two hours and a trip to IHOP later, he regretted having to walk her to her door when the date came to a conclusion.

  As he kissed her at her apartment door he nearly said the three words he’d been rattling over and over in his head all evening, but she broke his courage when she invited him to take a DC Ducks tour with her and her roommates the next afternoon. So the words returned to his heart for another day.

  Rachel was officially awarded her master’s degree and Noah graduated with his undergraduate degree. They celebrated together at Komi, one of the finest restaurants in DC. Noah’s parents came, as did his Aunt Samantha and her husband, Shawn. A&P joined them, too, and over the repeated objections of Malcolm, she paid the enormous bill and tipped the handsome server $270.

  Rachel had also invited one of her best friends, Tyler Clingerman, to join them for the evening. Tyler was a friend from Rachel’s undergrad years at George Mason University, and they’d had a number of classes together since meeting early during their sophomore years. Noah tried to hide his jealousy when Rachel and Tyler’s long embrace ended with a kiss on her cheek.

  Rachel’s mother, Stephanie, flew into town for the occasion and met Noah for the first time. Noah was stunned by the petite woman’s appearance. Only her thin frame and eye color matched Rachel’s. The skin on Mrs. Kaplan’s neck and cheeks was unnaturally tight, her jawline sharp, and her forehead too smooth and unblemished for a woman who’d lived as many years and had endured as much as Rachel said she had. Her hair was blonde and her tan looked more like the leather from one of his father’s tool belts than feminine, sun-kissed skin.

  Rachel apologized that chairs needed to be moved to accommodate her mother. “She likes to be able to see everyone’s faces,” Rachel whispered. Later, she apologized that she had to escort her mother to the restroom, twice. And before the dinner was quite over, she told Noah how sorry she was for any disruptions and for leaving early. “She’s not feeling well,” Rachel whispered again. “I should make sure she gets settled at the hotel.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “I’m really sorry, Noah.”

  Outside in front of the restaurant, Rachel’s mother griped that her hired car for the evening wasn’t already waiting at the curb. A minute later, the Lincoln Town Car appeared from around the corner and Stephanie cursed the driver as he held open the rear door. Rachel kissed Noah good-bye, apologized yet again, and promised to call the next morning.

  The evening when Noah planned to say I love you for the first time ended with a wave and a forced smile. He spent the rest of the night making awkward small talk with Tyler and wishing he weren’t.

  One week later, Rachel received the letter she’d been waiting for. The position at the Department of Justice was hers and she’d begin work later that summer when the rest of the team and the funding were in place. Much to her delight, a phone call the very next day revealed that Tyler Clingerman would be transferring from another department to work on the same project. She was grateful that a familiar, friendly face would await her on her first day on the job.

  Rachel acknowledged that the money wasn’t great, but it was sufficient that she could stop relying on her mother and stepfather and, at long last, pay her own way. She was grateful to not have a penny in student loans and few obligations to the world besides an apartment lease and a cell phone bill.

  Noah had already decided to take a year off before considering graduate school and was experimenting with every imaginable medium in his art. He painted pictures in both oils and acrylics of Rachel asleep on the grass of the Washington Mall. He sketched her face in both charcoal and ink. Over dinner at a Chinese buffet, he accepted the challenge to finger paint her on a napkin using red and green Jell-O. The likeness was uncanny.

  They returned to Woodstock to visit the Coopers. Over lunch in the back of the Café on Main Street, Noah and Rachel watched and listened as Samantha showed off new pictures of her granddaughter, Taylor. Noah had never seen such a soft side to the aunt he called Sheriff Sam.

  Later in the afternoon, Samantha, Rain, and Rachel went for a hike to the Woodstock Tower while the boys helped A&P move several heavy antique pieces around her house. Then they moved it again, and again, then back to its original spot. Even Noah, who hadn’t spent much time with A&P since leaving for college four years earlier, could sense what A&P needed most was company.

  More than anything else that day, Noah would remember the peaceful drive home. Just as they passed the Marshall exit on 66 East, he looked at Rachel fading to sleep next to him and said, “I love you.”

  She looked at him, her eyes half-open. Then after the longest ten seconds of Noah’s life, Rachel smiled and said, “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 9

  The vibrating phone danced across Noah’s dresser. “Uhhh,” he groaned and ignored it. After thirty seconds, the phone vibrated again in a single, short voice mail bzzz and Noah tried to doze back to sleep. But before he’d flipped the pillow, the phone came to life again and he crawled out of bed to retrieve it.

  The caller ID excited him: MATT CELL

  “Uncle Matt! It’s early—what’s up with that, huh?” He fell back on his bed, one arm behind his head, one holding the phone to his ear.

  “It’s almost nine o’clock, slacker. That’s only early if you’re in California and it’s actually six.”

  “Whatever. I’m a college kid; we sleep in. That’s what we do.”

  “But, in fact, you’re not a college kid anymore, are you? That’s reason number one for my call. I’m really sorry I didn’t make it to Mason’s graduation. Things have been crazy up here.”

  Things are always crazy up there, Noah thought. “It’s not a big deal, Uncle Matt. I got your card and puny check—it’s all good.”

  Matthew laughed. “Good to see college life hasn’t changed your sense of humor. You’re still as funny as your old man. Which, as you know, isn’t so funny at all.”

  They traded more friendly barbs until Matthew regained control of the conversation. “There’s a second reason for my call—”

  “You’re such a bean counter. Only an accountant numbers his reasons for making a phone call.”

  “You want a free lunch or not?”

  Noah sat up. “You’re in town?”

  “Got in yesterday morning. I’m staying at the JW Marriott over in Metro Center. You know it?”

  “Definitely. You here long?”

  “Two days,” Matthew said. “I know it’s bad form to call on such short notice, but this trip came together last minute.”

  Noah hardly heard the last part through his own laughter. “And you’re probably the only Cooper who’s ever used the term bad form.”

  “You can make fun of me at lunch. I’ll even pay for the abuse. Meet me here at 12:30. The buffet is fantastic.”

  “I’m in,” Noah said, but immediately realized the conflict. “Ah, fudge goats, I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend at 1:15 at Union Station. She’s getting a tour of
the DOJ today and I’m tagging along.”

  “Noah, you know you’re old enough to ditch your mother’s substitute swear words, right?”

  “Tell her that,” Noah said.

  “Well, listen.” Matthew was serious again. “I’m only a couple stops away. Let’s make lunch at noon and have her meet you here at the hotel at 12:30. I’d love to meet her anyway. Sam says she’s something special.”

  They finished the call quickly and Noah texted the updated plan to Rachel.

  Noah: morning to you! :)

  Rachel: You too :)

  Noah: uncles in town!

  Rachel: From Hartford?

  Noah: yep

  Noah: meeting 4 lunch at marriott by metro center

  Rachel: Tour with Ty still ok at 1:15?

  Noah: yep, meet me at marriott restaurant, 1230

  Rachel: Make me late and I’ll . . .

  Noah: i wont! see you at 1230 :)

  Noah: ttyl luvu

  Noah arrived at the restaurant five minutes late and Matthew tapped his watch as he stood from his table near the hostess stand. “Just like your dad—always late.” Matthew held out his hand and Noah slapped it away.

  “Get in here, Uncle Matt.” Noah squeezed him hard. “Great to see you. It’s been a long time.”

  They separated and Matthew gestured to the buffet. “Let’s see if you can still put the food away like a teenager.”

  The men sat and reconnected about Matthew’s foray into international business, LeBron vs. Kobe, and Obama’s reelection chances. Matthew showed Noah a recent photo of his son, LJ, the baby he and Monica had adopted the year Jack and Laurel died.

  “Man, that kid is big. I really need to hit him up on iChat one of these days. Been way too long.”

  “You should,” Matthew said. “He asks about you a lot.”

  Noah excused himself for a second trip to the buffet and when he returned asked, “How’s Aunt Monica? I’m an idiot for not asking earlier.”

  Matthew stabbed at a black olive. “She’s well . . . I guess.”

  “Uh-oh.” Noah’s fork full of pulled pork stopped midair.

  Matthew scanned the restaurant as if looking for someone he knew he wouldn’t find, as if looking away was the right thing to do. When he swiveled back to Noah, he said softly, “We’re separated.”

  Noah leaned in and nearly toppled his drink. “You’re what?”

  “Since last October.”

  Noah set his fork down and also surveyed the restaurant to see if anyone was listening. “Are you serious?”

  Matthew nodded.

  “Totally none of my business, I know, but what the heck happened?”

  Matthew forced a smile. “Noah, I wish I was in my twenties again with your simpler view of the world. And I don’t mean that disrespectfully, I really don’t. I just wish I had another turn at being your age.”

  Neither spoke for a few long seconds. “We haven’t gotten along for a while,” Matthew continued. “More than a while, really.”

  “I . . . I can’t believe it. You guys seemed great.”

  “We were great, for a few days here and a few days there. But we were never great for that many days in a row.”

  Noah picked up his fork again and tipped it toward Matthew before putting it in his mouth. “That’s why you didn’t come for Christmas.”

  “That’s right.” Matthew conceded.

  Noah took a pull on his Pepsi. “I am completely floored. When will it all happen?”

  “The divorce? Later this summer, I hope. We’re trying not to fight about every jot and tittle but it’s tough when you’re paying attorneys to do exactly that. It’s funny, it takes only a few seconds to marry someone for thirty years, but it takes a lot longer to unmarry them.”

  Actually, Noah didn’t find it funny at all.

  After the restaurant manager stopped at the table to check on them, Noah asked Matthew the question he was most curious about. “Did she cheat?”

  Matthew pulled his napkin from his lap, wiped at the nonexistent food on his mouth, and folded and laid it across his plate. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m not a kid, Uncle Matt.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  They sat quietly while a busboy cleared their plates.

  “She was unfaithful, yes. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

  “What other way is there?” Noah’s voice rose.

  Matthew turned the dial on an imaginary knob between them.

  “She was unfaithful emotionally. Monica had this business partner she picked up ten years ago when the gym took off and they started franchising. It was a good move, and he seemed like a nice enough guy. I ran his financials, called his banks, did lots of homework, and gave her my complete blessing for the partnership. He brought the money; Monica brought the health know-how, the fitness certifications, all that. She promises me nothing ever happened, but I could tell their friendship was more than two people who worked together and got along. She told him things she’d never tell me.” Matthew gave a pleasant “Thank you” to the server who stopped by and refilled his ice water.

  “I realized how much we’d grown apart when we were at a grand opening for a gym north of Boston. Gorgeous building. State of the art. I was standing nearby when she introduced him to someone as her best friend. That’s the night I realized she was being unfaithful and it was time.”

  “Time?” Noah posed.

  “To move on. We’d been drifting a long time anyway.”

  After another prolonged silence, Matthew said very quietly and very simply, “So I cheated too.”

  Emotionally? Noah thought, but did not articulate.

  “I fell in love with an investment banker. Someone who had packaged a few deals for me overseas.”

  “Oh,” Noah said.

  “Yeah. I know. It’s not easy for me to say out loud. But the secrets have been killing me inside.”

  Noah wanted to change the subject and quickly, but before he could, Matthew let the words spill right out. “She got pregnant.”

  Noah felt sick. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you getting married?”

  Matthew shook his head. “She didn’t want the baby. She didn’t want me. It’s over.”

  “I see.”

  “And, Noah, listen to me, I haven’t told your folks yet. Let me tell them, would you? Please?”

  Noah nodded. “Sure.”

  “I need to,” Matthew added. “I need to talk to them about some other things as well.”

  Noah jumped back in before Matthew could rock his afternoon any further.

  “So, what’s LJ been up to?”

  Matthew grinned, both at the abrupt change of subject and at the subject Noah had changed to. “I’m assuming you know he’s a fifth-year senior at Arkansas? He’s consumed right now with trying to make the US track team. He’s one of the fastest kids in the country. We think he’s got a real shot at this.”

  “Wow.” But Noah didn’t know whether he was commenting on his cousin’s success on the track or still weighing the fact that his aunt and uncle’s long marriage was over.

  Before it mattered one way or another, Rachel appeared at the hostess stand, scanning the restaurant. Her hair was up, which Noah never cared for, and she wore a black business power suit and the pearls he’d given her for her first day of work.

  “And there she is,” Noah said both to her and to Matthew as he stood up from his chair.

  She walked toward him, tugging awkwardly on her suit jacket. “I look ridiculous.”

  “Wrong.” Noah kissed her cheek. “You look amazing.”

  “You must be the famous uncle,” she said.

  Matthew stood for her. “Matt Cooper. Or Matthew, whichever. A pleasure.”

  They shook hands firmly then sat all at once. Noah flagged down a server and ordered an iced tea with lemon for Rachel. “You had lunch?” he asked her.

  “I ate at home. Thanks though.” S
he adjusted the pearl strand around her neck and leaned into him. “I’m a little nervous about this tour. What in the world is wrong with me?”

  Rachel talked about her first post-college job and briefly explained how she’d landed it.

  Matthew was noticeably impressed.

  Noah got the largest piece of carrot cake from the dessert bar and swiped a fork from another table so Rachel could try a bite. She ate more than half.

  Noah told Matthew how he’d met Rachel on the side of the road after she’d been hit by a truck as she rode her bicycle to campus.

  Rachel filled in the inconvenient detail that Noah had been driving the truck.

  Before they could touch another topic, Rachel looked at her watch and said, “We better run, Noah. It’s one o’clock.”

  They said good-bye; Matthew promised to keep in touch with Noah during the summer, and Noah made him promise to tell his folks the latest news as soon as possible.

  Rachel enjoyed every minute of their personal, behind-the- scenes tour of the DOJ with Tyler. Unlike Rachel, he’d not pursued a graduate degree and had taken an entry-level job with the department right out of school. After a couple of years he seemed to know every nook, cranny and, at least in Noah’s opinion, useless detail about the DOJ. There was nothing Tyler didn’t know. Except, Noah thought, how fake his tan looks.

  Noah would have preferred being almost anywhere else than trailing Rachel and Tyler around their new turf. But at least for an hour or two, his mind was on something other than his Uncle Matthew’s infidelity and shattered marriage.

  Chapter 10

  News of Matthew and Monica’s divorce surprised no one else quite like it had Noah. His Uncle Matthew had been a mentor and friend for as long as Noah had memories. Matthew was the Golden Boy for whom nothing went wrong. He’d been successful in business, gifted at sports—even the ones he didn’t enjoy playing—and had a gorgeous, talented wife.

  Noah’s mind sorted memories of his aunt and uncle at Christmases, at the occasional summer reunion, at his graduation from Central High School.