The Best Man Page 12

  "That's good," Faith had said. The truth was, she wouldn't have minded if Levi got stuck and missed the entire wedding; she hadn't seen him since high school, and she wasn't really looking forward to that bored, condescending air he always had around her. Then again, surely all that childish stuff was done. She was about to become his best friend's wife, after all. Besides, no negative thoughts would be allowed on the night before her wedding. "It'll be great to see him," she added. Points for positive attitude.

  Jeremy hadn't said anything.

  "Honey? You still there?" she whispered.

  "I just wanted to tell you that being your husband is everything I've ever wanted," Jeremy said, his voice husky.

  "Oh, Jeremy," she whispered. "I love you so much."

  That's what she should be thinking of on this beautiful June morning. Not the tremor in her stomach. Maybe she was just missing her mom, because what girl didn't want her mother on her wedding day, to exclaim and shed a few tears...and, if the case called for it, to reassure.

  From a place dark and deep inside her, something roared.

  Nope. No. Uh-uh. It was just stage fright. She was, by far, the luckiest woman in the world. Being your husband is everything I've ever wanted. Come on! Those were words she could take to the bank! Nothing could be wrong when a man said words like that. This was marital gold.

  The limo pulled up in front of Trinity Lutheran, the stone church where the Hollands had gone for generations, and the tourists who were wandering on the green stopped to look as the wedding party got out. "You're so beautiful!" one woman called. The photographer snapped her picture as she bent to kiss Abby's cheek, a picture that would go on to win a prize in a national photography contest later that year.

  Then, holding on to her father's arm, Colleen fluffing her dress, Faith went into the church to marry the man she'd loved since the first day she'd met him, when, like the hero in a movie, he'd carried her unconscious form in his strong arms. Okay, that sounded creepy, but it hadn't been. It had been wonderful, or so she was told.

  There he was, standing on the altar, so handsome in his tux, tall and manly. He was smiling at someone, maybe one of his patients, because half the town had flocked to him, never mind that he was barely done with his residency. Levi had made it, she noted; he looked older in his dress uniform. He was shorter than Jeremy, his hair sticking up a little in front. His face was somber; he must've been tired from all his traveling. Faith couldn't help thinking it'd be nice if he could fake a smile. It was her wedding day, after all, and the man looked as if he was at a funeral.

  Pachelbel's Canon in D began, and Pru started down the aisle. Honor turned, and, so uncharacteristically, hugged Faith. "Love you," she whispered, then started down herself, followed by Colleen and then Abby.

  Pachelbel stopped, then, and the wedding march began.

  Faith's heart rate tripled. She tried to keep her eyes on Jeremy, felt her face stretching in a smile, but damned if she didn't feel...wrong.

  Just nervous, her brain lied.

  It seemed like the entire town was there, looking at her: Dr. Buckthal, her neurologist, and his wife. Theresa DeFilio, one of the truly nice girls from high school, a baby on her shoulder, handsome husband at her side. Jessica Dunn, yawning. Laura Boothby who'd done such an amazing job with the flowers. Ted and Elaine, smiling brightly. Connor O'Rourke. Mrs. Johnson and Jack in the front row. So many people. Way too many.

  When Reverend White asked who gave this woman in marriage, Dad answered, "Her mother and I," and the congregation sighed with the bittersweet beauty of his words. Daddy kissed her cheek, tears in his eyes, and shook Jeremy's hand, leaning in to give him a one-armed hug. "Take care of my baby," he said, then went to his seat.

  Jeremy's hands were clammy. "You look so beautiful," he whispered, his lips pulling back in something like a smile. His gaze bounced from her to somewhere over her head.

  He wasn't nervous. He was terrified.

  A floating feeling enveloped Faith, almost like the auras that preceded her seizures, but different, too. Faith could hear her own breathing, rather than the words of the minister, the readings--one by Jack, one by Jeremy's cousin Anne. The wedding seemed to slow into endlessness. It hadn't seemed so long at the rehearsal. Honestly, it was the longest wedding in history! Why hadn't they gotten to the vows yet? She couldn't look at Jeremy and focused on the readers instead, on Reverend White, on her bouquet.

  Maybe it was the epilepsy. Faith tried to wrestle her faulty brain into order, to press each detail into her memory. Enjoy the day, that's what everyone told her, but, hell, it seemed like she might be on the verge of that dark, epileptic hole. She'd been religious about taking her meds. Hadn't had a seizure in three years. Please, not that, not now.

  The seizure didn't come, but the sense of doom pressed in on her like hot lead.

  Now the minister was talking about marriage and the seriousness of two people pledging their lives together. Faith couldn't concentrate. She just wanted to say her vows and be Jeremy's wife. She wanted to promise to love him all the days of her life, because she would. He was the One. Just a few more minutes, and it would be official, and please, get this over with, was this a normal way to be feeling, couldn't they just fast forward to the part where people were throwing birdseed?

  Reverend White finally stopped blathering. He looked out over the congregation, and Faith looked, too, all those smiling faces, her dad looking so proud, her grandparents beaming. Almost there. Almost there. She looked back at Jeremy. His face was oily with sweat, his hands damp and hot, clenching hers.

  "Before we begin the vows," the reverend said, "does anyone know of a reason these two should not be wed? If so, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

  Her heart was now beating so hard she could feel the separate chambers rolling and squeezing.

  No one said anything.

  The reverend smiled. "I didn't think so. In that case--"

  "Jeremy." The voice was so low, it might not have actually been spoken. But, no, Jeremy flinched.

  It was Levi. "Jeremy. Come on."

  What? Why was he talking? He looked so damn solemn in that uniform. So...authoritative. Why did he have to come? Why couldn't his plane have been late?

  Jeremy's breathing was jagged. The sheen of sweat grew, droplets beading on his forehead. He licked his lips and swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak.

  "No," she whispered.

  "Faith," Jeremy said, squeezing her hands so hard he was crushing them.

  "No." She forced herself to smile. "I love you."

  Pain ripped through his eyes, eyes that had only ever before smiled at her. "Honey, I...I have to talk to you."

  A murmur went up from the congregation, and from the corner of her eye, Faith could see her father's mouth opening in shock, Elaine--Elaine, who loved Faith like a daughter--gripping Ted's arm.

  Faith's legs were shaking, her dress quivering with the movement. "Jeremy, let's just finish this," she whispered.

  "Is there a problem?" Reverend White asked, his bushy eyebrows coming together.

  "No!" Faith answered, her voice cracking. Oh, Lord, she was going to faint. "There's not."

  Jeremy swallowed again, his eyes filled with tears. "Faith," he said again, and her knees did buckle then.

  "Let's go," Levi said, taking Faith by the arm. "Downstairs, you two." He towed her off the altar, the train of her dress tugging with its weight. Jeremy followed.

  There was a staircase right by the altar. "What the hell are you doing?" Pru asked, and then the voices of the guests rumbled and echoed in the church. Down
the stairs they went, Levi's hand inescapable. He was a bully. He was ruining everything.

  "Jeremy," she squeaked, looking back. Her fiance didn't meet her eyes.

  Levi pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs. The church basement was dim and smelled like chalk. Four or five metal folding chairs sat huddled together. Bible Study or AA or something. Levi let go of her arm and then guided Jeremy a few paces away, leaving her standing alone.

  "What's going on here?" It was her father, thank God, and Colleen and her sisters and Jack, and Jeremy's parents, too. Her father came to her side and put his arm around her, and she sagged against his shoulder. "You're ruining their wedding, Levi!"

  Yes! He was supposed to be the best man, not the ruiner of weddings. How dare he? You know, she had always wished Jeremy had had a different friend. She'd never liked Levi Cooper. He was too...secretive. And confident. And he'd never liked her, especially after that one stupid kiss.

  "Hang on a sec," Levi said.

  He and Jeremy were talking, Jeremy's voice panicky, Levi's lower, calmer. Then Jeremy nodded; Levi gave his shoulder a squeeze, nodded, then turned to the group.

  "Jeremy and Faith need a little time alone," he said. His eyes stopped--not on Faith, but on Mr. and Mrs. Lyon.

  "Oh," Elaine said, her voice very, very soft. "Oh, dear."

  "Faith?" Dad said. "Do you want us to stay?"

  She looked at Jeremy, who loved her. Who'd called her last night to say everything he ever wanted was to be her husband. "It'll be okay. It's fine, Daddy."

  "I'll be right on the other side of that door," he said. "Call if you need me."

  Everyone left, slowly, uncertainly, glancing back at Faith. She sank into a metal chair, Jeremy sitting across from her. And Levi, damn him, walked a few feet away and stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the floor, looking like a stone wall.

  "Does he have to stay?" Faith whispered.

  "I...I'd like him to," Jeremy whispered back. "If that's okay."

  She looked into his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black, and which had always seemed so happy--with her, with life. Smiling seemed to be his natural expression, and everyone commented on it, that big, ready grin of his.

  No smiling now.

  She sensed the world was about to end.

  "Faith," he said, his voice soft and broken, "I want you to know that I do love you, so much." He took a breath and looked at the floor. "But I can't marry you."

  "Why?" she asked, her voice squeaking. "Are you sick? I don't mind, I'd stay with you, that's the whole point, in sickness and in--"

  He looked back up, his gaze slamming into hers. "I'm gay."

  The two words seemed to float around her for a few seconds, meaningless, before they hooked into her brain. She sucked in a quick breath and jerked back, and started to speak. It took a few tries; her mouth was making odd little noises, her lips trying and failing to form words. Finally, she stopped, gave her head a quick shake, and tried again.

  "No, you're not. You're not gay."

  "I'm so sorry." He looked...old.

  "You don't have to be sorry! You don't! Because you're not. You aren't. You can't be."

  He hesitated, looking at the floor, folding his hands together loosely, his beautiful doctor hands. There should've been a wedding ring on the fourth finger of his left hand by now. There would've been if Levi had kept his mouth shut.

  Jeremy took a deep breath. "I didn't...acknowledge it, and I really thought I could... I mean, for a long time, I honestly didn't know. I didn't. I just thought those feelings would go away, and with you, it was like proof that I wasn't--"

  "Stop! Shut it, Jeremy. My God." Okay, she was hyperventilating a little. "You are not gay." She took a steadying breath. "You have the worst taste in clothes I've ever seen in a man. I had to teach you how to dress. Remember those mom jeans you thought looked good on you? They were horrible! You have no sense of style whatsoever. If it weren't for me and Banana Republic--"

  "Faith, I--"

  "No! Plus, you're a terrible dancer! I mean, we had to take six lessons before you figured out the box step, Jeremy! And--and--and you played football! You were really good at it, too. You played football, Jeremy! You were the quarterback!"

  He put his hands on her knees, on her beautiful dress, on all that poufy fabric, and his happy, beautiful face was so old and tragic now, oh, God. "I know," he said, his voice rough. "And I thought, when I met you, that I'd sort of click into place. I really did love you--"

  "You do love me! Don't put that in the past tense!" she cried, her voice shrill. "You said you wanted to be my husband! You said so on the phone last night, Jeremy!"

  "Take it easy," Levi said.

  Faith whirled around. "Shut up, Levi!" she barked. "If you have to be here, at least shut up!" He looked back down at the floor and obeyed.

  Faith took a breath, then another, and looked into Jeremy's eyes. "I know you love me," she went on more steadily. "I know that more than I know anything. How can you be saying all this?" She lowered her voice. "Did Levi make a pass at you or--"

  "No! God, no," Jeremy said. "Levi has nothing to do with this. You're the only one I've ever been with, Faith. Ever."

  "See? Then you're not gay. You're just not. We've been sleeping together since sophomore year of college!"

  A horrible thought occurred to her. That maybe dating a guy who said he loved you but waited two years to get into your pants...oh, shit.

  "Faith, when we're...together," Jeremy said, very, very quietly, "I have to...um..."

  At that moment, the door opened and Jeremy's great-aunt Peg came in. "I just have to use the ladies' room," she said. "Don't worry, I won't listen to a word. Faith, darling, you look so beautiful. And, Levi, is it? Oh, I love a man in uniform! Thank you for your service, sweetheart."

  "Uh...you're welcome," Levi said. "Thanks for your support."

  Good God. This was just bizarre enough to be a nightmare. You know what? It might be. She prayed it was. The great-aunt in the loo, Jeremy being gay...come on! It had to be a dream. Please, God. Let me wake up in my bed and have this be a dream, and Jeremy and I will still get married. I can tell him about this dream, and we'll laugh and laugh about it. Please.

  The details, though. The smell of chalk, the cold chairs. The gleam on Levi's shoes, his crew cut.

  Jeremy's bowed head.

  Finally, Great-Aunt Peg emerged. "See you upstairs!" she said, waving merrily.

  "You were saying?" Faith said. Her voice was sharper now, harder. "When we're together, you have to what, Jeremy?"

  He grimaced. "I have to think of...other things. Even though I think you're beautiful and--"

  "What things?" she said. "I think I deserve to know what things you had to picture!"

  "Faith, this probably isn't--" Levi began.

  "Shut up, Levi! What things, Jeremy?"

  He looked wretched. Utterly miserable. "I have to picture Justin Timberlake."

  Oh.

  Okay, that was a showstopper. The case for Jeremy's heterosexuality took a serious hit with that one. "Justin Timberlake?"

  "'Rock Your Body.' The video."

  Her mouth was open, she realized. She closed it. The JT song echoed in her head, taunting. Those damn white hoodies everyone wore.

  Oh, no.

  Thoughts bounced and zinged through her head, not quite registering. Her makeup must be ruined from crying. The dress was itchy. They wouldn't have their first dance together. They weren't getting married.

  "You're really gay?" she whispered.

  He looked up and nodded, his eyes were full of tears, too, and
it was idiotic, but she wanted to comfort him. "I thought that I...that I wasn't," he said. "I wanted a wife--you--I wanted kids, I wanted a life like my parents have, but...I...yes. I am."

  He covered his eyes with one hand and bowed his head.

  From the first time she'd laid eyes on him, Faith had known he was special and gentle and wonderful. From that first second on, she'd loved him. He had never, ever let her down, never found her lacking, never spoke to her in anger or looked at her in contempt.

  Jeremy Lyon was, above all things, a good, good man.

  Without quite intending to, she reached out and stroked his smooth black hair, cut short for this day.

  He looked up, his misery so obvious that it wrenched her heart, the heart he was breaking.

  "It's okay," she whispered. "It's all right, sweetheart."

  "I'm so sorry," he said again. "I'm so, so sorry, Faith."

  He leaned in close, so his head was touching hers, and they sat there another moment or two--or an hour, the uneven sound of Jeremy's breathing as he cried, the soft pat of tears as they fell from Faith's eyes to her dress. The reality of the future pressed down on Faith, the weight almost bearable at first. Her beautiful wedding wasn't going to happen. No honeymoon in Napa, lounging around in bed with this beautiful man. Oh, God, the weight was pressing on her chest harder now. No black-haired children running through the fields of Blue Heron...no life with Jeremy, the only one who'd ever seen in her something that was special and rare and precious.

  Jeremy had been proof that she was forgiven. But now there was nothing. There'd be nothing now.

  "I guess we should call off the wedding, huh?" she said, and he gave a half laugh, half sob, then stood up and pulled her against him, pressing her face against his hard, muscled shoulder, and she hugged him as hard as she could, her throat aching with the sobs she wouldn't let out, because it would break Jeremy to hear that, and she loved him too much to do that. He was the love of her life.

  "I'll leave town," he said, his voice cracking. "I--I can move. I won't stay here, Faith. I won't do that to you."

  But he was the town doctor. Elaine and Ted had loaned him the money to buy Dr. Wilkinson's practice. She'd helped him redecorate the waiting rooms, bought him the iconic Norman Rockwell prints, filled out the online forms so he'd have up-to-date magazines. Six months in business, and he was already thinking about hiring another nurse, because that's how popular he was.