Best Man

by Katy Evans

  And all of this is so wrong. Even the groom.

  Especially the groom.

  “Aaron,” I whisper to him. “I’m so sorry. I do love you.”

  He pulls on the collar of his suit. “Then what’s the—”

  “The problem is that we’re not in love!” I shout, so loudly it echoes through the mountains.

  More gasps.

  My eyes plead with him. “You have to know that.”

  He’s shaking his head. “What do you mean? I thought you and I—”

  “No.” I look over at Mimi, in the front row, and I think of her and my grandfather, strolling down the Santa Monica pier like they were the only ones in the world. “If we loved each other, none of this would matter. But now, it’s all that matters. And what happens after?”

  He looks confused. “Well, we have our honeymoon. Hawaii.”

  “No. After that? This, now? It’s supposed to be the easy part. I told you, Aaron, I don’t know what I’m feeling. But I don’t think you know, either. We got together five years ago. We were each other’s first real relationship. We didn’t know what we were doing.

  “But now I think I understand. You know what I did was shitty and wrong, and you’re willing to give me a pass, because you’re a good guy. We’re so used to ignoring the signals that something’s wrong, because that’s what we do. Maybe we need to take a step back and admit what’s been screaming in our faces all this time?

  “If I was in love with you, I wouldn’t have needed all of this. And if you were in love with me, Aaron, you wouldn’t need any last hurrah. I wouldn’t be an afterthought. I wouldn’t be second to your brothers or a good keg stand. I’d be at the front of your mind, all the time,” I tell him. “And you’re a good person. You deserve someone who comes first for you. Someone who drives you so insane with love that you can barely think. I know I’m not her.”

  “You are her. Lia—”

  “No, I know I’m not. And I can’t be. I don’t want this.”

  Rage fills his eyes, and he hooks a thumb behind him. “What? Do you want him?”

  More gasps.

  I can’t see Miles behind Aaron’s broad shoulders, and I’m glad of that, because one look at him would probably melt me. The last thing I need is for them to throw down again in the middle of all our friends and family. “I don’t know what I want! All I know is, this is a mistake.”

  His face is the kind of red it gets only when he’s drinking. His voice is tight. “You walking out of this door is a mistake, Lia. Don’t do that to me.”

  I shake my head, pull off the ring, and place it in his palm. “I’m sorry. Take the trip to Hawaii. You can probably bring one of your brothers.”

  I gather up my skirts and make a mad dash for the door.

  When I get out to the front of the lodge, I’m crying so hard I can’t see straight. I run straight into someone who’s smoking at the entrance, and before I can move away, he grabs my hands. I look up.

  “Oh! West!” I bury my face in his chest.

  He tosses his cigarette on the ground and stubs it out as he wraps his arms around me. “Whoa. Dahl. What’s going on? I’m not too late for the wedding, am I? I had to take a call and—”

  He stops as I sob into his clean white shirt and striped tie.

  “I just ran out. I can’t marry him.”

  He smooths my hair. “Well, it’s about fucking time you realized that, Peanut.”

  I pull away. “What?”

  He smirks. “I’ve tried to get along with him, Dahl. But he’s a fuckhead. You can do so much better.”

  He wipes the tears out from under my eyes as I let out a groan. “If you thought that, you could’ve told me sooner.”

  “Like you ever listen to me. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He wraps an arm around me and starts to walk toward the lodge, but I hold firm.

  “I can’t go back in there.”

  “Yeah? Where do you want to go?”

  “Home.”

  “All right,” he says, reaching behind me to lift my skirts. “Then let’s go.”

  He loads me and my massive dress into his big pickup, and as I sit there in a pile of organza up to my boobs, he massages my bare shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Peanut. I promise. You’re a tough nut to crack.”

  I look over at him through a haze of tears. I feel anything but tough. I feel like I just let so many people down.

  As he pulls away, I watch the Midnight Lodge fade into the distance, as well as all those fairytale wedding dreams. They don’t seem to matter to me anymore.

  June 30th

  I step in front of the giant metal handle and take a deep breath. It’s nine in the morning, my not-so-favorite time of day.

  Time to open the book drop.

  This branch of the Boulder Public Library, I’ve discovered, is a favorite among the homeless. And they’re always huddling outside the front door and giving us little “gifts.”

  There’s a reason book drop duty is reserved for the newest librarians. I can’t complain, because I have a job, a real, honest-to-goodness paying job using my degree, one that I had lined up for me even before I graduated with my M.S. And I love the work, the people, the fact that I get to work with books every day, everything.

  I just wish we had the budget for an intern who I could pass this particular job to.

  I cringe, thinking about the human poop I received two days ago, and wondering just what wonders are in store for me today.

  The door creaks as I pull it open. There, I notice books, as usual, and…great. A nondescript paper bag. Can’t wait to see what’s in there.

  I pull it out and unravel the top, wincing, to find an empty bottle of Jack. Thank goodness it’s nothing super-lethal. My friend Liz, who started working here six months before me, says that she once found a bunch of used condoms stuck to the pages of a copy of the Kama Sutra. Once she found a pile of books infested with cockroaches. And people use the drop so often as a garbage can, it’s not unusual to get fast food bags and dirty diapers.

  So, yeah. Proceed with caution.

  “Anything good?” Liz calls over her shoulder, popping out her earbuds as she’s cataloguing the new releases. She told me once she found twenty bucks that someone was using as a bookmark, so it’s not all bad.

  “Nothing so far.”

  It’s been over half a year since D-Day.

  I’m still single. Remarkably.

  What happened after that fateful day? Well, the party went on, though without a bride and groom. My parents had sunk so much money into it that they insisted everyone have a good time. Supposedly, Aaron got shitfaced and fucked one of the waitresses behind the gazebo. Good times.

  My parents didn’t kill me, but they did question my sanity. As did Eva, but she eventually came around to my thinking, since she agreed Miles was irresistibly hot. So irresistible, she’s fond of texting me every day to see if I’ve broken down and “hit that yet.” Most of my friends and family were baffled. A lot of them didn’t talk to me for a long time, because I’m sure they didn’t know what to say. I haven’t spoken to a single person in Aaron’s family, either. I’m sure they all hate me.

  Aaron, though?

  We’re still friends, weirdly enough. It helped that when he went to Hawaii with one of his frat brothers, they partied ’til they puked every night. Then, on the last day of the trip, he met this tall, gorgeous blonde named Shana who happened to be on winter break from Colorado Springs. They had a whirlwind romance, I guess, from the pictures I’ve seen on his Instagram. I think he’s really crazy about her.

  I was invited to their wedding, which was last weekend after her graduation from Colorado College, but I politely declined with regrets.

  But I’m happy for him. I like to think that he’s finally found the one.

  As Miles promised, I haven’t seen him since that day. I found myself staring at the Instagram photos of the wedding, not looking at Aaron and Shana, but trying to see the best man in the backgroun
d. I couldn’t find him. And Miles is above social media, so he might as well have disappeared off the face of the Earth.

  Just like last time.

  So maybe that’s why I’ve turned down every even remotely handsome bookworm who’s come into this place, asking me out.

  I don’t want to make the same mistake of moving on until I know that it’s truly over between us.

  It’s been six months, though. I guess it is.

  As I’m finishing up with the drop box, trying to fit the books onto the cart so I can return them to the shelves, Liz says, “Checkout.”

  I roll my eyes. We have self-checkout machines for this reason. “Do you need help with self-checkout?” I mumble, a little annoyed because it’s so simple to operate, any idiot could do it.

  “I prefer full service,” a very familiar, deep voice says as I notice the title of the book he’s holding. The Alchemist. “That’s what I pay taxes for.”

  My eyes flash up. Way up. To him.

  I gulp. “Miles! Hi!” Exhaling, I control myself, and I say, “What you pay taxes for? What are you, eighty?”

  His mouth twists into a smug smile as his eyes scrape over me. “I see you’re going with the full-on librarian look now, Shorty.”

  I look down at myself. I’m wearing a slim pencil skirt and heels, which is more dressed up than most librarians get, but it’s my first month, and I’m trying to make a good impression. My hair’s up in a schoolmarm bun, and I’m wearing…

  Oh, god. My horn-rimmed glasses.

  I start to pull them off but he says, “Don’t. They look good.”

  I push them back up on my nose. “I thought you said I wasn’t going to see you again.”

  He shrugs. “That was when you were marrying Aaron. I thought it was best, considering.”

  We stare at each other. Silent. Just looking into each other’s eyes for a moment that feels like it contains everything in it.

  Miles looks so good that it hurts to see him. To hear him. Smell his familiar, intoxicating scent. It’s odd how my body seems to vibrate at a whole other level when he’s near.

  Noting he can’t seem to drink me in enough too, I shake myself and I stare at the book he’s holding. “This is definitely not your library. How did you know I was…”

  “Aaron told me. At his wedding,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I was his best man, remember?”

  “Oh yes.” I nod, my whole body singing.

  “This time, though, I behaved myself with his bride.” Miles winks.

  He’s joking, but instead of laughing, all I can do is stifle a shiver inside. Miles is so close I can… “I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “I thought…I was hoping you’d be there.”

  I shake my head. “He invited me. But I thought it would be too awkward. His family pretty much hates me. How is Aaron?”

  “He’s good. Happy. On his honeymoon, now. And I doubt his family hates you anymore.”

  “Oh, well. I sent Mr. and Mrs. Eberhart an apology note, but they didn’t respond. I think it’s better if we all move on. Obviously Aaron has.”

  “Yeah. He’s good.”

  “And we never should’ve been dating, much less engaged. We were pretending, because we didn’t know any better.”

  He leans over the counter. “Do you know better now?”

  I jerk my head back, meeting his gaze. “I think so.” I do. Definitely. I know that no matter how much you dress it up, when it’s wrong, it’s wrong. I know that you can love someone without being their soul mate. And I know that no matter how odd the circumstances, when you find love, you need to hold on to it, treasure it, never let it go.

  I suppose I could fill volumes with everything I’ve learned. But I think that maybe Miles has learned those things right alongside me, so he doesn’t need the lesson. “And how are you?”

  He shrugs and says, his voice low, “Pretty fucking miserable.”

  I give him a sympathetic look that tells him, I can relate. Though I’ve tried to pull myself together, be my own person, the miserableness of staying away from Miles while I put myself together has been acute. Compound that to the misery of thinking that I’ve lost him forever, that he’s probably gone on with his life, after everything? And it’s excruciating. But I ask, nonchalantly, “Oh. Why?”

  He doesn’t answer, just keeps staring at me like I already know.

  My face heats. Don’t read too much into it, Lia. I’ve also learned that it’s important to look at things realistically rather than see them as what I think they are. So I look at the book in his hand. “That’s a good book, you know. But I thought you already had it.”

  He studies the cover. “I do. You read it?”

  I give him a sheepish look and start to gnaw on my fingernails. They’re just as bad as they’ve ever been, and I’m sure he notices. “Um. About twelve times.”

  The corners of his mouth lift up in amusement. “Yeah? I’ve got some catching up to do, then.” He peers around. “Hey. You ever get a break from this place?”

  I look over my shoulder. The library isn’t busy so I feel like everyone can hear us. “Um. Not until lunch.”

  He checks his phone. “Can I take you somewhere when you get a break? For lunch? So we can talk?”

  I nod distractedly, because god, it’s barely nine-thirty. I don’t want to wait even a minute. “Actually, um…why don’t you come with me?”

  I take his book and walk past the director’s office. I step out from behind the checkout desk and motion to him to follow me. When he does, I take him deep into the stacks, past rows and rows of books, to a corner of the library where we can be alone.

  As we walk, he whispers, “I thought you might show up at my place. Every day. I waited for you.”

  My heart flip-flops. He did? I try to be casual, but I’m sure he can see my hands shaking around the book as I hold it in front of me. “I was trying to wrap my head around things. That’s how I deal.”

  “Ahhhh. Sounds familiar.” He smirks adorably with understanding. “Hey. And are you dating anyone?”

  I smile. “I think after what I did, I’m penalized for dating anyone for the foreseeable future.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, totally flagged. I think there should be a law about it. Girls like me should stick to the friend-zone.”

  I stop at the C fiction section as he leans against one of the bookshelves. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well. I guess it wouldn’t be the first time you and I disagreed.” I shelve the book in the empty place he’d removed it from and narrow my eyes.

  He follows my line of sight, takes the book, and turns it around so that the spine is right-side up, tsking me for the mistake. “Naughty librarian.”

  A shiver runs down my spine, but I try not to let it be too obvious. “Me, naughty? You’re the one wasting the librarian’s valuable time,” I say with a hint of a wry smile. “You didn’t actually come all this way for this book. Did you?”

  “You caught me. I came for something else.”

  He’s teasing me, and I’m smiling, but, all my breath leaves me as he closes the space between us, and suddenly Miles is so touchably close, that I know for sure he isn’t one of the thousand dreams I’ve had of him since I last spoke to him. “So you’re coming to return whatever it is that I left behind?”

  He shakes his head, and he actually laughs. “No. I told you. I’m keeping that.”

  I’m frowning now. Confused.

  His smile slowly starts to fade, but not from his eyes, which shine tenderly down on me. “You fucking know, Lia,” he chides, the tone more endearing than menacing. “And if you don’t know, then I may have to let you sit on it for another six months, so that you notice I’ve got your heart. Very, very firmly in my hands, Lia.”

  He waits for a moment, his gaze heated, probing, and shows me his hands. Which are big and manly and empty, but my whole chest feels full in his presence the way it hasn’t in a long time, and I know t
hat they are not empty. Not at all.

  Damn him.

  As always, he is right.

  My voice is a breath. “And if that’s true? What is it that you want from me, Mr. Foster?” I taunt breathlessly, as if my stomach isn’t doing a thousand flips already.

  “Why don’t you take a guess?” Miles simply reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, then places a finger under my chin and lifts my mouth to his. He kisses me, very gently, almost chastely. I taste his peppermint and feel the scratch of his beard, and I’ve never felt more like I was right where I belong.

  This time, I don’t need to guess.

  When you know, you know.

  3:00 PM, August 3

  The dress is a Tar-jay, two years old, white with eyelet trim and a bit of a daring neckline, but very simple and sweet, too. I think I got it for twelve bucks on clearance, but it doesn’t matter. It’s his favorite. My hair is in my favorite messy bun, and my makeup is almost nil.

  The locale is the musty-smelling county courthouse in downtown Boulder, right down the way from the DMV and the bail bonds office, where our officiant has just gotten done fining a guy for public drunkenness.

  The details have cost us about thirty-four dollars, for the marriage license and an hour’s worth of parking at the lot behind the building.

  Except for the judge, we’re alone.

  It’s my fantasy wedding come true.

  Because now, everything’s right.

  He slips the ring on my finger, his hands trembling just as they had before, when I realized how much he loved me.

  This time, I can’t wait for forever. This time, there’s no doubt. We will love, honor, and cherish each other, ’til death do us part.

  When I’m asked if I take this man, I answer in a clear, loud voice. “I do.” He says the same, his eyes never leaving mine.

  And then we are pronounced man and wife.

  We’re fucking married!

  He kisses me, and I hook my arm through his. He leads me outside, his chin up high, as proud a man as I’ve ever seen.