Part II

9/7/13: noon

Louisville

The doorbell rang again. Rochelle leapt up from the couch as if it was on fire. “That better be who I think it is.”

I craned my neck toward the front door and heard her harrumph as she opened the door to let Kevin in. “It’s not,” she informed me.

“Nice to see you, too, Ro.” Kevin cast his eyes around the room as he ambled into the foyer, nodding his head politely at each of us in turn. “Lindie. Miz Fuller.” He smiled down at me. “Miz bride-to-be.”

“What’s up, Mufasa?” I greeted him.

“Not a whole lot.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth slowly on his heels. “I see you’re all having an exciting day.”

Lindie and I were stretched out on the overstuffed leather couch, mimosas in hand, feet on the coffee table, a space for Rochelle between us. My damp hair was wrapped in a towel, and I had exchanged my pajamas for frayed jean shorts and an old Western shirt left over from my Uncle Tupelo-and-Schlitz phase circa 2006, green plaid sleeves rolled to my elbows. Mom was sitting in an armchair, working a cross-stitch. Chicago was on the TV in the corner. Alicia and Baylee had both gone off to shower.

“The other half of Meg’s wedding present was supposed to have been here at 11:30,” Rochelle said.

Lindie drained her mimosa. “It’s a mani-pedi-mobile,” she informed me.

I looked between her and Rochelle. “That so?”

Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Way to go, Lindie. Anyway,” she continued pointedly, “the girl texted and said she had a flat tire. That was…” She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her yoga pants. “20 minutes ago. So until then…” She gestured at the TV. “Oh, and it’s time to take your hair down,” she said to me. “I think the leave-in stuff should be done by now.”

I got up and side-hugged Kevin. “Thanks for coming by. I’ll go see if Baylee’s ready.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Kevin protested. “I’ll go.”

“I insist.” I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted down the hallway, “BAYLEE! LOOK ALIVE!”

“Coming!” he shouted back.

I smiled brightly at Kevin, who was shaking his head, as I unwrapped my hair. “See how easy that was?”

Rochelle’s phone rang. “Mani-pedi girl!” she said cheerfully, and walked off toward the kitchen.

Kevin looked around. “OK. So. The suits are in the room.”

I pointed to the box of greenery and white flowers in the sitting room. “And the boutonnieres and so forth are in there.”

“Right. I’ll get those. He shouldn’t need to bring that much other stuff.” Kevin scratched the back of his head nervously. He was holding a pink gift bag in his other hand.

“He has a list. I helped him dig up everything this morning. We’re good.” I patted his arm. “Deep breaths, Mufasa.”

He blew out a breath. “Your fiancé is a mess. I think he’s rubbing off.”

I screwed up my mouth, a momentary little current of concern coursing through me. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s just excited. He woke up and had his coffee and instantly started spazzing out. He is dying to talk to you.” Kevin grinned down at me and patted his pocket. “I had to take his phone away.”

In the background, Renee Zellweger trilled, He looooooves me so, and it all suits me fiiiiiine... I wanted to clap my hands to my heart and swoon, but I had an image to uphold, so I swallowed my lovesickness and just snickered. “That sounds right. Alicia took mine.”

“You two are like a couple of teenagers.” Kevin smiled. “I thought this day would never come. And I didn’t even get to see you two get started. I, uh…”

He studied his fingernails, suddenly serious. “Look, I know you and I…haven’t exactly had the…bonding time…that you and the rest of the guys did back when you and Brian first met. But you’re a friend to all of us in a big way, not just another one of the ladies – even though the ladies are obviously all really important to us, too.” He cracked his knuckles. “You are everything to my boy Brian, though,” he said quietly. “And today is, uh…” He shook his head as if frustrated with himself. “I’m not expressing myself well. I’m really happy for you guys. I want nothing but good things for you. But that seems really inadequate. You know?”

“You’re killin’ me.” My voice was shaking a little, betraying me.

“You – you know what I’m trying to say.” Kevin reached out and hugged me hard, swiftly, arms around my shoulders, rocking me back and forth. “You’re a hell of a lady. You got us the old Brian back.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Dammit anyway, Kevin.”

He patted my back awkwardly, then let me go and thrust the gift bag at me. “And here, you should have this.” He smiled sheepishly. “It’s from Kris. She said it’s your something borrowed. I have no idea what it is.”

There was a pink envelope and a large, red, square jewelry box. I opened it to find a pearl necklace.

Kevin’s eyes went soft with memories. “I gave that to her for our 10th anniversary. Good omen, I guess?”

I ripped open the pink envelope. The card inside was festooned with glitter and crystals. Inside, Kristin had written:

Congratulations & every blessing to you guys. Welcome to the Pop Widows Club!

See you tonight,

Kristin xoxoxo

“What’s that?” Baylee was standing at my elbow, wearing a clean T-shirt and shorts, backpack on his shoulders. He could look me in the eye now, a terrifying thought.

“A very nice gift from your Aunt Kristin.” I put the card and jewelry box back in the bag and turned to Baylee, squaring my shoulders. “OK. Show me your bag.”

Baylee took off his backpack and held it out for me to inspect. Undershirt, Nintendo DS, dress shoes, dress socks… I squinted and pushed the shoes aside. At the bottom of the backpack was a can of his dad’s most expensive hair pomade. I fished it out and held it up.

“Seriously?” I said to him. “You don’t think everyone else in that room has hair product you can use?”

“I’m being a good groomsman,” he said defensively. “Uncle Nick said I should try to remember stuff Dad would forget. He probably forgot his hair stuff.”

I handed his backpack back to him. “You’re gonna be a really good groomsman, buddy.” My heart threatened to burst as the next words left my mouth, without a thought to whence they had come, and my voice shook again, dammit. “Your dad and I are very proud of you.”

Unexpectedly, Baylee threw his arms around my neck. It was the first time he’d ever hugged me of his own volition.

“I’m really glad you’re marrying him,” he said, half into my damp hair. “You’re awesome.”

My heart stopped. I patted his back, eyes overflowing suddenly. “Me too, Baylee.”

Mom had set aside her cross-stitch and walked over by now. Over the top of Baylee’s head, our eyes connected, and I saw that she, too, was trying not to cry. She had been so thrilled to gain a grandson, even as he still called her by her first name, even as she tried to feel her way through this new relationship, tentatively putting a hand on Baylee’s back as we hugged.

Baylee pulled away from me, shifted his backpack and looked up at Kevin. “All right, Uncle K, let’s move out,” he said, stiffening in a march toward the front door.

Kevin had picked up the box of flowers. He sighed. “You are too much, short man.” He knocked an affectionate, teasing elbow into my shoulder. “Next time I see you, you’ll be a bride.”

“I’m sure gonna try.” I knew as I said it that I meant so much more. A bride, a wife, a stepmom. A mom, I hoped, one of these days. Things every little girl dreamed of. Things I had never dreamed I would be to this guy’s wonderful cousin, to this ornery not-so-little boy who had just cut the crap and hugged me like he meant it.

“You’re gonna do great.” Kevin winked, and then he was walking out the door, leaving me barefoot in my foyer, with six hours and 20 minutes until I married Brian Littrell.