Nick
Holy shit.
Those were the only two words running through my mind as the three of us headed back into Heather's parents house.
Holy shit.
The past eighteen hours had been a blur. After an awkward confrontation with the German police in which I was found in my boxers handcuffed to one of the red developing lights, I had missed my first flight. The only thing I could get on the next flight out was coach. To make matters worse, the flight had two layovers due to weather, which had given me even MORE time to spazz out, doubting myself and my actions. Was I NUTS? But finding Brian centimeters from Heather's lips had suddenly woken me up.
Had he really been about to kiss her?
I glanced at Bri out of the corner of my eye as we made our way into the living room. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, his face unnaturally red considering it was chilly in the Cornhole of Hell, aka Kentucky.
"How'd you find me?"
Heather's words were a mixture of anger and hurt. She too looked flushed. Her big blue eyes flickered over at Brian and something bubbled up in my stomach.
If I hadn't been sure of what I needed to do before, I was now.
"Your momma and I had a chat," I said with a smile, a smile that Heather didn't return. I plopped down on the couch and held onto her hands.
"I missed you."
Heather glanced back at Brian again. "I don't think this is the time--"
"No, this is the perfect time," I said.
"Mom, I've never heard you sound so excited. What happened?"
Every muscle in my body tensed at the sound of Chris' voice. Heather's brother and I had never gotten along. Well, I take that back.
We had gotten along really well the first time we met. That is, until I called his wife a hooker.
It had been a complete misunderstandi ng, of course. I hadn't known the gorgeous girl walking the street at ten o'clock at night was Chris' wife. We had gone out drinking and I was a little, er, buzzed. When he had slowed down the car I nudged him in the ribs, slipped him a hundred, and told him I would leave him and the hooker alone for a little sometin' sometin'.
By the time I actually found my way back to Heather's parents house, I was sporting a black eye the size of Texas.
"It's getting late. My parents..." Bri drawled. It never ceased to amaze me how much more 'hick' his accent got when he got anywhere close to home. Sometimes I had to double check to make sure he wasn't gnawing on a piece of hay.
"You're thirty-six years old," I said. I reached out and gave him a light kick in the shin. I wanted to give him more, but I didn't want to press my luck. I knew that the Johnson's considered him the second coming of Jesus - or so it seemed. Besides, I needed him. I hadn't exactly gotten a ring yet and I was hoping I could talk him into coming with me in the morning and pick one out. Until then, I was gonna lie. I mean, what girl wouldn't believe her fiancee had personally designed a ring - a ring that hadn't gotten done in time but would arrive in town the next day?
The slamming of a door from somewhere towards the back of the house distracted me. A second later I heard the voice I had been dreading.
"That's not--" I heard Chris say from the kitchen. I turned around, ready to defend myself as his head poked around the corner. His eyes narrowed.
"You."
"Hi Chris!" I said, in my overenthusiast ic, shih-tzu sort of way. A second later the hooker herself, er Sandra. She had a slobbery little baby dressed in pink PJs clinging to her tit.
"What's going on?" Heather asked.
A million things happened at one time. Brian's legs seemed to give out on him and he sank into a chair. He cupped his hands together and hunched over, the former flush turning into a pasty white. Heather's mom Marietta pushed past Chris. Heather's dad, Luke, came up from the basement. He took in the scene, looked at me, and gave a slight nod.
"What's going on?" Heather asked. The anger had left her voice; it shook noticeably.
"Aww, hell no," Chris muttered.
I blocked it out. I had to do this. Sure, I wasn't prepared, but when had I ever been prepared? I sprung out of my seat and wrapped my hands around Heather's slender little waist. We did a little dance as I moved her to the couch.
"Sit down," I said, my throat tightening.
Heather's eyes were the size of saucers. They swung over to look at Brian once more before locking on mine.
"I'm mad," she said.
As I stood hovering over her, I realized she was still wearing Brian's flannel shirt. I exhaled loudly.
"That was my plan," I said smoothly. I heard a snort coming from the kitchen doorway and Marietta's faux-quiet reprimand.
"Your plan?"
I smiled. The words had just dripped out of my mouth. I planted my feet shoulders apart. I couldn't ignore the fact that her face was lined up perfectly with my crotch. Mm--wait, I had something to do.
"I know the plane thing looked bad, but I seriously haven't stopped thinking about you even for a second in the three years we've been together."
I'm sure no one else heard it, but a noise escaped Brian's voice. It almost sounded like he was self-suffocating. I was about to feel sorry for him, except for the fact that I couldn't get the image of them out on the doorstep out of my mind.
It was now or never. I sank to one knee.
"Heather Johnson, you've put up with more than any decent girl should. I know that I haven't been the perfect guy, but I am the luckiest guy in the world. You're everything a man could want: you're beautiful, you're sweet, and you've got the biggest heart ever."
"Nick," Heather whispered. She looked around. I could see the dawning realization in her eyes. "Nick..."
"Baby," I took her hand. It was damp. I ran my thumb over her knuckles. "Baby, will you marry me?"
Heather
"Baby, will you marry me?"
The second the words left Nick's mouth, my mom burst into uncontrollable tears. My dad was rolling four cigars around in his hands, a grin lighting up his perpetually youthful face.
And I glanced at Brian again.
He was staring fixedly at the ground as he had been since Nick had sat me down on the couch. But something made him lift his head and make eye contact with me. The breath left my lungs.
Suddenly I was stuck back on the bumper cars.
The Kentucky State Fair is the biggest event of the year. For a kid, it's paradise. When I was five, the Littrells and Johnsons joined forces; our parents tossed us kids in a van and drove from Lexington to Louisville to camp out. The first night, Brian and Chris had a pair of super soakers and I remember they chased me around for three hours. The only thing I had to defend myself was one of those tiny little plastic bright pink water squirters. Sometimes being a girl sucked.
The next day, we got to spend the entire day at the fair. It was right after lunch when Chris demanded that he go on the bumper cars. Maybe it was because I already felt slighted over the water squirter, but I had begged to go on. Not only that, but I had begged for my own car.
It was a disaster from the beginning. I didn't understand the instructions on how to turn the wheel. I whipped that thing to the right and just hung on for dear life as my car did perfect circles, only interrupted when all the other kids decided to pick on the stupid girl who couldn't drive.
After about the tenth hit, I began to cry. My corndog with the special ketchup/mustard sauce mom had mixed up was coming back up in my throat. My knuckles were white on the wheel and my little foot slammed at the floor with all my might. Chris was shouting, but I couldn't tell whether he was laughing or defending me.
I was about two seconds from puking all over the cute little green buggy car when a bigger pair of hands wrapped around mine. The smell of sweaty boy made me look up into Brian's smiling, upside down face.
"It's okay," he said. "I'll tell you what to do. Let's get these guys."
"Will you marry me?"
Nick's voice shook as he asked me for a second time. Brian's eyes drifted back to the floor. I had so wanted him to pull a bumper cars again - I wanted him to tell me what to do - but for the second time in a day he was running away.
As any MARRIED man should do.
The thought slammed into my brain from out of nowhere. I blinked rapidly.
Brian was married. Yes, I loved him. God, it had taken me THIS long to realize it...but I did. But he was MARRIED. And he was a DAD. And he was a good Christian boy who would never think about giving all that up for some ratty haired girl he knew all his life...
"Yes."
The words left my mouth even as my thoughts were consumed with Brian. "Heath, my God, are you sure?" Chris said.
"CHRIS!" Sandra chastised.
"What? I mean--"
"Yes," I said again. My hand was shaking uncontrollably in Nick's. I looked down at my ring finger. When Nick didn't make another move, I looked back up at his face. He gave me a sheepish smile.
"You know I'm kinda bad at keeping secrets," he said with a laugh. "Uhm, I was working with a jeweler here while I was in Germany and I thought it would be done by tonight, but it wasn't. So I have to wait until tomorrow to give you the engagement ring."
"Of course," I heard Chris mutter under his breath.
"You're gonna love it though, I promise," Nick continued. He was beginning to sweat. He let go of my hand and cupped my face. A second later, his lips brushed lightly over mine. He tasted stale, the type of stale that he always got when he spent almost a day hoping airplanes.
"This deserves a toast!" mom cried as he pulled away. "I'll get the wine!"
"I've got cigars!" dad said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Congrats, baby girl," he whispered. He shook Nick's hand and handed him a cigar. He turned to Bri next, but when he held out the cigar, Bri hesitated. Finally, he took it, rolling it around between his thumb and forefinger. It was agony as he looked from me to Nick.
"Congrats," he said.
"Thanks, man!" Nick said. He walked over and clapped his arm around Bri's back. "Let's step outside and light these puppies up. I have to talk to you..." he winked at me. "I need to let my best man in on some classified information."
"Best man?" Bri and I said simultaneously .
"Of course!" Nick said. He laughed. "Heath, you weren't planning on making him maid of honor were you?"
I flushed. Bri's fingers tightened around the cigar. He stood and for a second I could feel the heat radiating from him. A huge rock of guilt settled in my stomach as I remembered the way his hands felt on my body...
"So, I was thinking you could sing that one song at the wedding," Nick said as he led Brian towards the front door.
"What song?"
"That one country one you did on your solo tour. Yanno, the one by Tim McGruff."
"McGraw?"
"Yeah!"
"I can't sing Don't Take the Girl. It's depressing. The woman dies in child birth."
"Oh. Gross."
With that, the front door closed behind them. I stared down at my bare hand and let out a shivery breath.
So I was going to end up with Nick. That was OK. I had at least lived the dream for a few hours...
And Holly would still end up with Eric in my story.
At least someone would win.
Brian
The minute we were outside Nick’s hand dropped from my shoulder and he shoved past me and walked away across the lawn into a pool of moonlight. He stopped and stood still, breathing deeply. I swallowed. I was about to get my ass kicked. I stepped slowly, cautiously towards him. “Nick, before you flip out, can I at least start to explain what was –“
“I need help picking out a ring,” Nick said, spinning around.
I stared at him. “You said that you –“
“Dude, I know what I said,” Nick snapped. “I forgot, okay? I had the day from hell. I got practically raped by this psycho German chick and the flight and delays for weather and –“ he stopped, he stared at me for a long moment. “Why were you kissing her?”
My throat practically closed up. I shied away, stepping backwards. My palms became mini oceans. I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t,” I answered. “I just was trying to comfort her…” I stared up at him, “I mean I don’t know if you realized it or not, but she’s no idiot, she knows you were out there sleeping with Lauren. She was hurting.”
Nick snorted, “Like you’re one to talk about cheating now, huh?” he laughed.
“Nick,” I said, “Nothing happened.”
“Right, Brian.”
“Nick!” I barked his name with an edge.
He raised his eyebrow. “You’re really defensive for an innocent guy,” he said with a shrug. He sighed, “But you’re also my best friend, and… well, honestly, I need your help in all this, so… for this one time I’m gonna overlook what was about to happen and trust that if you say it didn’t that it didn’t.” He smiled like he was doing me some huge favor.
I wanted to choke him.
Seriously, I’ve known the guy eighteen years – more than half of both our lives – and this was probably only the second time in all of those years that I’ve ever truly wanted to kill him. One of previous times had been following an incident long ago that involved a late night chase around a parking lot with a paint gun in 1996. For the most part Nick and I had always gotten along or else ---- well, I’d overlooked a lot. I’d let him get away with hurting me and others around me, and let Nick walk over me because he was my best friend and he was just, well, Nick.
That was his greatest excuse. He was Nick.
“So you’ll help me out tomorrow, right? I mean you know what Heather would want in a ring.” Nick smiled, “I need something perfect if she’s gonna believe I custom ordered it.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
Nick grinned and pet my shoulder. “Thanks man.” He winked, “I gotta go chill with my fiancé.” He looked back at the driveway where my car was parked. “Didn’t you say you had to go home to your mom?” he asked pointedly.
My mouth felt dry. “Uh huh.”
“See ya later then. Tomorrow.” He went inside and left me standing on the front lawn.
I walked numbly to my car and climbed in and started the engine. I sat there, the car idling, and my hands on the wheel, staring at the Johnsons’ house. My hands were shaking and I felt like I was gonna throw up. As I sat there, the front door opened and Chris stepped out onto the porch. He saw I was still there, and started walking across the lawn with purpose. He opened the passenger door of my car and got in, slammed it behind him and sat there beside me in silence for a long time.
“Am I allowed to kill him yet?” Chris asked quietly.
I nodded.
Chris took a deep breath, “Brian, why don’t you just tell Heather?”
I looked at him. “Tell Heather what?” I asked.
Chris stared at me for a long moment. “That you love her?”
My mouth felt dry. I looked forward again, studying the speedometer. “I-“
“Don’t lie to me,” he cut me off. “Dude you’ve always loved Heather.”
There was a long pause between us. Finally, I turned and looked at him with searching eyes. “Why didn’t I realize it sooner? Before it got so complicated and -- too late?”
Chris shook his head, “It’s never too late. Just go in there and tell her and they’ll break this shit wedding off and –“
“Chris, I can’t,” I said, “That’s my best friend. And Heather—“ I shook my head, “Heather didn’t – she –“
“What?” Chris asked.
“I gave her pleading eyes,” I said, “When she hesitated. She saw them, and she said yes. To Nick. She saw me, begging her, and she said yes.” My stomach ached. “She doesn’t want me,” I said, “She wants Nick.”
“So you’re gonna give up just like that?” Chris asked.
My heart ached. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Chris opened the passenger door. “Have a good night Brian,” he said, climbing out.
