“It’s your best friend’s wedding.” He leans into me and kisses my cheek. “He wants you here.”
“But his girlfriends always get the wrong idea.” I hiss.
“Surely, this one knows you are harmless. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been fiancé.” He grins.
I nod. “That’s true.” I lean in to smooch his cheek.
“I’m sure she isn’t half as beautiful as you though.” He kisses me back, letting his lips linger on mine.
“I did find it odd that they didn’t send an engagement picture with the invite.”
“Not everyone does that.”
“Everyone else I know does.” I respond.
He shrugs his shoulders, clearly unconcerned by this breach of protocol. As we approach the heavy wooden doors leading into the church, I stare intently into the opening. As we approach the ushers, I look away from the interior into a familiar smiling face.
“Bride’s side,” my old boyfriend Vince tells the gangly teenage boy at his side.
“This way,” the disinterested teen says as he steps in front of us.
“Um, no.” My brows furrow as I look at Vince.
“You are here to see Caroline get married, aren’t you?”
“Your sister, Caroline?” I squeak.
“We’re here for the groom, actually,” my husband looks from my face to Vince’s questioningly. “You know each other?”
“This is Vince,” I mutter.
“Oh.” My husband stands up taller, assessing Vince with discerning eyes. “Oh. That means Caroline…”
“…is the bride.” I mumble.
“Your Caroline?” He asks.
I nod my head.
Vince’s smile no longer clings to his face. Confusion takes its place. “Caroline told me you guys had come to an understanding.”
“An understanding that we would never speak again.” I inform him. “Or see each other.”
“Oh. Then…” He looks at John. “You must know the groom.”
John snorts. “You guys dated and you don’t know that Tom is her best friend?”
“Wait. What?” Vince’s mouth hangs open. “Thomas Carter is your Tommy.”
I bristle. “If you had trusted me about Tom, I wouldn’t have met John.” I sneer as old emotions flood over me. “So thanks for being a jealous tool.”
“i think we better show ourselves to our seats.” John glances at a couple who pauses at a discreet distance to watch the show unfold.
“I don’t want to sit down.” I hiss.
Vince snickers. “Good luck with that, man. I need to help someone who isn’t crazy.”
“Come on, sweetie,” John slides his hand into mine and gently pulls me toward a seat on the righthand side of the chapel.
I follow him into the pew but take the seat on the aisle and sit. He tries to coax me further but I refuse to move. He sits down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“You never told me what exactly Caroline did,” he whispers.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m your husband. Try me.” He leans in to better hear my answer.
“She poisoned her brother and this town against me,” I incline my head toward the nearest guests.
The organist warming up the pipes makes enough noise to drown out the whispers, but no amount of chaos could make me unaware of the stares, the lips moving swiftly with decades old gossip as their eyes can see only me, and the sideways stares of those wise enough to keep their mouths shut. John looks around and then back to me. His jaw clenches.
“So you being at her wedding…”
“…makes no sense.”
“Unless she wants you here for some reason.” John frowns and glances toward the front of the chapel where the bride will stand.
“I can’t let this happen.”
“I agree.” John takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t leave until I stop this wedding.”
He sighs and grips my hand in his. “Honey, please, I have seen the way you get when you think of her. Don’t do whatever…”
His words dissipate as I pull him in my wake. I stalk to the front pew, where Tommy’s mom sits elegantly attired to celebrate her only son’s big day. My heart lurches as I realize what I am about to do. As I reach her, I fall to me knees. I feel like a little girl again, visiting my best friend and hoping his mom will give me one of the cookies I can smell on the air. But I don’t smell cookies. I only smell the cloying sweetness of flowers and perfume.
“I’m sorry, dear, I don’t have room for cookies in this.” She holds up a sequined navy clutch and reaches out to pull one tight curl that dangles by my cheek.
“I don’t need cookies, mama. I might need you to help me.”
“With what, dear?” She smiles softly, but her smile fades as she surveys my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Hopefully nothing.” Hope that Caroline has changed embeds itself in my heart as I take a deep, cleansing breath. “I assume you have met your future daughter-in-law?”
“Of course, dear.”
I open my mouth but can’t find the words to ask. My mouth won’t speak words that could break her heart.
With my own heart in my throat, I ask. “Has she mentioned me?”
Grey brows knit together as she ponders my question. “Why should she?”
“We went to school together.”
“Really? I was under the impression she went to a private school.”
“Caroline Logan’s parents couldn’t afford private school.”
Mama takes her feet at those words. “Logan? Her last name isn’t Dottson?”
“It wasn’t when I knew her.”
“Then she has been married before?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Mama’s jaw tightens. “Excuse me, dear, I have to go talk with my son.”
My jaw drops as I watch her walk away.
“I feel like I better get ready for some fireworks,” John whispers in my ear. “Unless I can convince you to leave this place with me.”
“No chance.” I whisper as I realize most eyes in the room have refocused on me now that Mama has disappeared.
I ignore them, clutching John’s arm as I stare toward the back of the sanctuary and await my fate.
~~~
I got a little side-tracked by life, so this piece might turn into a two part series or leave you wondering forever. Feel free to vote in the comments.
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