"Nick, you've got five minutes before you have to be up in that gazebo. Jesus, put your pants on. I'm sick of staring at your ass."
AJ snickered and tossed a handful of nuts in the air. His head swiveled like a fish out of water as he tried to nab every last one.
"I've got to talk to Heather," I blurted for the tenth time.
"Then talk to her," Howie said for about the eighth time (he had ignored the first two outbursts).
I felt like a dog that had gotten shot in its hind leg. I wanted to just run across the chateau, burst into the bridal room and call it off.
Something was stopping me. And I was pretty sure that something was Brian.
You win, he had said. The deepest neanderthal part of me really loved the fact that I had won. And that was the part keeping me from doing what I should be doing.
It was the dumbass part of me that was going to push me through the wedding today.
"Fuck," I growled. I needed to hit something. I curled my fingers into a fist and propelled my arm into the leather couch. The hard material stung my palms. AJ slightly bounced, glancing wide eyed at the cushion beside him.
"What did the couch ever do to you?" he complained.
"You know what your problem is," Howie said quietly. I turned to look at him.
"You're too irresistible. You're like Mary and you have all these little lambs following you."
"Dude, pork chops sound good right now."
D and I both glared at Bone. He lifted another handful of nuts and shrugged. "Sorry, they do!"
"What are you saying D?" I asked. Usually, I would have a talk with Brian, but since Bri was part of this whole fiasco, that was kinda out of the question.
"You need to follow your heart."
"I don't know where my heart is," I said.
"Well then," Howie trailed off and for a second I thought he had fallen asleep standing up. Instead his eyes opened and his right one went into three consecutive winks. "You need to figure it out. And fast."
He turned then, making an excuse about checking on Leigh and James. I grabbed my pants, the fish tacos I had for lunch threatening to come up. Howie hadn't understood what I was saying.
My heart was with Lauren Kitt.
But I didn't know where she was.
My heart was lost.
"Why are there bees in October?" AJ hissed in my ear.
"It's the flowers," I whispered back. I pressed my thumb to my necktie. For a second I thought if I pressed hard enough I'd sever my windpipe.
For the last ten minutes, I had been standing there flanked by Andrew, AJ, and Howie. Chris and Brian had both ditched. I jumped as the music started from out of the blue.
In a panic, I looked out at the crowd. At the last moment my sister Angel had come. She gave me a thumbs up from the front row.
Shit.
"Here."
D's elbow nudged my side. I looked down. He was holding a hanky. I stared at him in confusion.
"You're sweating like a pig," he whispered.
I took the cloth and pressed it to my forehead. The perspiration soaked right through.
Two minutes before I was due at the gazebo, I had tried to break into the bridal room. Two of the bridesmaids had cut me off at the pass with something about bringing bad luck if I saw Heather. I had wanted to tell them that we were already floating in the muck of bad luck, but my tongue became tied.
And now here I was.
It was mind numbing watching as the bright, smiling girls headed towards me and began to line up on the left side of the gazebo. The hanky in my hand was soaking up the sweat coming from my palms.
Could I ditch her right at the alter? Could I--
All of a sudden, everyone rose and turned. My head snapped up in confusion.
That's when I saw her.
She was beautiful. It was almost like looking at Heather the very first time I had ever met her. She clutched her bouquet of red roses close to her chest taking little tentative steps as she walked the runner alone. Her eyes met mine. My heart squeezed as I suddenly realized we were both losers at this stupid game of love.
And maybe that just meant we needed each other now more than ever.
Heather
When Nick turns his head sometimes, he gets these rolls of skin along his neck and chin. When he smiles like this, he looks kinda funny. Unless he really smiles. When he really smiles, his dimples crawl around the edges of his mouth, forming parenthesis from his chin to his nose. His straight, perfectly white teeth show, and his eyes sparkle. No, they don’t sparkle. They twinkle. There’s a difference. Sparkle is more mature of a thing. Twinkle is a little mischievous.
Nick’s always been mischievous.
The twinkle might’ve been dimmed… but Nick was really smiling when he turned to face me. His eyes were sad, almost resigned. I’m sure mine were, too. After all, neither of us were getting our true loves in the end, were we? We were settling. We were two misfits; misfits who had broken each other down, run off each other’s loves, and ended up alone except for one another in the end.
That’s the only thing that kept me walking.
My heart pounded in my chest with each dangerously balanced Jimmy Choo step I took towards him – it felt like it was swelling, like it was going to eventually fill my chest cavity like a balloon being inflated. Maybe even larger. Maybe, it would be so inflated it would show through my skin and I’d expand and grow like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka or – or maybe I would over flow.
”Say when,” Brian laughed, pouring milk to go with the cookies my mom had baked.
I watched the milk slowly filling the glass. “Okay, that’s enough,” I laughed. But Brian’s didn’t stop. “Stop,” I said, my voice starting to panic. The milk kept pouring, “Brian stop it! Brian!”
He’d let the milk get right to the rim and he’d stop – the milk with that weird membrane phenomenon that happens when liquid is on the cusp of spilling over, but has not yet. You know, when it looks like it already has? He’d look me right in the eyes and say, “You didn’t say when.”
I was trembling as I reached the gazebo stairs. The shoes felt tight and tall on my feet. Nick held out his hand. I stared at it.
I took a step back.
Nick’s eyes softened, like he was looking at a foal about to panic. “Heath,” he whispered.
I sucked in my breath – not for courage or strength, but to say good bye. I opened my mouth and --
”STOP.”
Brian
”STOP.”
My voice carried across the guests heads, was stronger than the sound of the piano-on-tape they had playing from a pathetic, remote-controlled boombox on the side of the gazebo.
Heather turned, Nick looked up.
The minister squinted against the sunlight to see me.
I strode across the grass to the runner. Guests were still standing from the bridal march; they turned, looked at me, and many started whispering to each other. Marietta’s face was flushed, her eyes wide. Mr. Johnson’s eyes were teared up and he was nodding in my direction.
Nick’s arm dropped to his side as I neared, and he took a step backwards, away from the girl, in defeat. Heather looked like she’d seen a ghost.
I stopped a foot away from her. I’d put on my tux, I’d combed my hair. I took her hand. “Heather,” I said, staring at her eyes. It was as though nobody else was in the room. I focused completely on her. I took a deep breath. “Heath, when you were four, and we colored together, I let you use the red crayon. Even when I wanted it. During that Indian Summer when you were seven, there was only one popsicle left on the ice cream truck – it was orange, my favorite one – and I let you have it. When you needed help with Algebra, I tutored you. When you were sick with the chicken pox in sixth grade, I pretended I had them too so you wouldn’t be lonely. You had four dots on your nose. Remember? And you were afraid you’d look like a dice.” I squeezed her hand. “When you were stood up for your prom and you were crying in that pretty dress of yours – I took you and I danced with you. When your Daddy fell out of a tree… I promised you I would walk you down the aisle.” I stared at her fingers. They were trembling. “I can’t keep that promise, Heather.”
“Brian,” she said, her eyes pleading.
“Shh, let me finish,” I whispered. I dropped her hands. I reached into my suitcoat pocket. “Heather,” I said, “I can’t keep that promise because…” I slowly dropped to my knees. “I don’t want to walk you down the aisle. I want to be waiting at the end.” I opened the ring box and held it aloft.
The perfect diamond. The one Nick had refused to buy, the one that he couldn’t buy when he’d tried to because it had already been purchased by another customer --- me.
Gasps filled the air behind me.
I stared up at her.
Tears were falling down her cheeks. “Brian,” she whispered, “I –“
I said quietly, “I’m not the kinda guy that walks in on weddings and kneels down to propose to the bride… I am begging you… choose me. Pick me. Love me, Heather.”
Silence filled the air.
Heather knelt down, staring into my eyes. The taffeta and frills of the Vera Wang skirt ballooned out around her. “I love you, Brian.”
“HELL YEAH!” Heather and I both turned. Chris was standing on the back steps of the chateau. He realized everyone was looking at him for his outburst and shrugged. “What? C’mon, like you guys didn’t wanna yell that too?” he shook his head, “Dude, Brian –“ I raised my eyebrow. “Fricking kiss her already, you ass.”
I looked at Heather.
She smiled.
And we kissed.
