Trying the Knot (22 page)

With a wink, Tristana said, “I can hardly
wait to see how you manage this catwalk in heels.”

Last in the procession was the pony-tailed
best man, and he accompanied the bleached-blond matron of honor.
Noting her synthetic transparency in the light of the day, Ben
wondered why he had been too busy entertaining this married woman
to respond to Evangelica’s call for help. It was not uncommon for
him to wonder what he had been thinking the mornings after his dick
had lied to his eyes the night before.

Kate looked concerned and asked if he was
okay.

“Yes, why?”

“You look a little sick,” she said, feeling
his forehead. “Maybe you’re just having doubts about whether or not
to give me away.”

“What do they say, if you love something set
it free?”

“And if it returns to you, it’s yours—

“And if she doesn’t, hunt it down and rip its
heart out with your teeth,” Thad interjected. With his camera
dangling from his neck, he snapped occasional pictures of the
practice proceedings. Laughing, Kate beckoned him, and he
reluctantly let his cousin and her substitute father detain him
near the rear of the church.

“Thad if my brother doesn’t show up tomorrow,
will you take his place and help Ben seat the guests?” Kate asked.
“You’re the only one skinny enough to fit in his tux.”

“Trust me, he wouldn’t miss out on the main
event,” Ben said hopefully because he half-expected Kate to ask him
to give her away during the actual ceremony. Despite his optimism,
her brown eyes remained doubtful.

Thad could not think of a reasonable excuse
to refuse her request, so he agreed to act as an usher in case Jack
skipped the wedding.

“And what if your dad is a no show?” Thad
asked. “Who’ll give you away?”

Kate was quiet for a long moment, and she
said, “I guess Jack will have the honors if he’s around.”

“And if he’s not?

She ignored his inquiry altogether as she did
not want to entertain the prospect of what to do if her entire
immediate family should boycott her wedding. The three of them had
not been especially close since her mother’s death. Only Kate had
been there to witness her mother’s deterioration. Jack, who
practically moved in with Ben while her father who was out to sea,
had not been there for them at all. Therefore, Kate felt only the
most lavish wedding her father’s money could buy would compensate
for her obligatory deathbed vigil.

Finally, Ben and Kate stiffly made their way
toward the crowd at the front of the church. Kate appeared to be a
martyr being led to her own execution, a lamb to the slaughter. But
halfway down the aisle Ben whispered into her ear, and she whirled
around as his supportive grasp kept her from doubling over with
laughter. Thad caught the light moment on film, with Nick looking
out of focus in the background.

Thad took a seat behind Tristana, and he
wondered why Nick’s sister was not a bridesmaid. Perhaps Kate had
not wanted to be upstaged by a freak in fuchsia. More likely,
Tristana would have traded her funeral garb for formal wear if only
her brother had not insisted on marrying a country bumpkin.

In front of the church at the altar, Kate and
Nick were clamped together as they followed the priest’s
instructions to become comfortable with the gilded portable pew.
Tomorrow’s full-fledged, grueling Wedding Mass Ceremony would
stretch their cherished moment to infinite proportions, but at
least while repeatedly sitting, standing and kneeling, Nick and
Kate could squeeze in one more cardiovascular workout. They had
been hitting the gym hard and looked the epitome of health and
happiness.

During this practice ceremony, Kate glanced
back only once with the hope her father might have slipped in
unnoticed. But her searching eyes merely confirmed her nagging
suspicion that Ed Hesse was never anywhere he was expected. She
imagined his corpse would be misplaced for his own funeral. What
had God been thinking, she wondered staring up at the altar, when
he took away her mother who so obviously loved and enjoyed her life
while sparing her father who obviously wanted nothing whatsoever to
do with his life. Catching a sidelong glance of her future mother
in-law, Kate felt reassured by Anne Paull’s warm smile and
supportive thumbs up.

Settling down in Portnorth, Anne Paull
chanced the dreary possibility one of her carefully cultured
children potentially marry one of the barbaric natives one day. A
suppressed look of dissatisfaction in Mrs. Paull’s eyes revealed
her secret displeasure with Nick’s choice of a life-partner. She
had always maintained high aspirations for her offspring, and now
her beloved only son was becoming, of all things, a Catholic. She
blamed this lapse of judgment on her own intensely upwardly mobile
aspirations. Rather than sending her children to the local public
school, she enrolled them in the only parochial institution the
town had to offer; however, never in her wildest dreams did she
imagine it would lead to a complete and total Conversion. It had
been all she could do to sit through his Baptism and First Holy
Communion without strangling her compliant husband with a Rosary.
Mrs. Paull thanked her Protestant Lord that Nanette had spent the
bulk of her formative years in a boarding school far away from
Portnorth.

Anne Paull belonged to a few of the same
civic groups as had Kate’s dead mother, but she had always
considered Kaye Hesse to be dutiful, kitchen help. Being a full
time nurse, Anne never had the time to invest in civic charities
the way Kaye, a housewife had. Having been a chief engineer’s wife
did not detract from Kaye’s salt of the earth roots, but at least
Kate’s mother had possessed dignity, unlike the current Mrs. Ed G.
Hesse. Shayla was nothing more than a floozy. With any luck, she
thought Ed and Shayla would spare everyone a lot of embarrassment
and show up sober for the wedding.

Although the fussing wedding attendants
created a teasing ruckus around them, tomorrow’s newlyweds
nervously surrendered their sole attention to the good Friar. The
kindly priest guided them through their matrimonial vows, and he
informed them when to expect what. He reminded the attendants when
it was time for their readings, which they practiced, and then he
summoned Tristana for her sole contribution. She casually made her
way to the podium and read Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116, and she took
perverse pleasure when she concluded with a resounding “to the edge
of doom.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes at the word obey. She
understood tradition, but Kate and Nick had opted for the most
archaic vows available. When it came time for the practice kiss,
they joined hands and pressed their lips together so lovingly and
so tenderly, the onlookers hushed in awe. Everyone basked in the
outpouring of love. Even hard-hearted Tristana’s eyes grew soft.
Chelsea cleared her throat to interrupt their rapt fixation on the
amorous couple, and she glowered with a look of foreboding at Thad.
She mouthed threateningly, “Tell Kate, or I will.”

Unnerved, Thad ambled away to join his squat
mother at the recesses of the church vestibule, where they waited
for Alexa.

Alexa bounded back down the aisle loudly, and
she raked her fingers through his mop of hair as she discreetly
slipped her hand under his jacket. Her fingers trailed downward
from the nape of his neck until her hand found a niche under his
waistband. She could not stand close to Thad for too long without
affectionately hugging him, mostly because she liked the discomfort
it aroused in him. Preferably, she instigated her molestation in
front of their mother in order to amuse herself with her stifled
horror.

“Enough with the incest, already,” Jane
reprimanded.

“I can’t help it, he’s so cute,” Alexa
countered, giving Thad a kiss on his crimson cheek. She informed
she would meet them later at the lounge, and she made her way out
of the dreary church. The back of her coat read “Substance 1987,”
and Thad smiled because Ben must have given it to her. Thad had
once drunkenly puked in the back seat of Ben’s old convertible
while Nick was driving, and Ben caught the vomit in his cupped
hands and wiped the mess down the front of Nick’s coat. To this day
Thad was unsure if Nick ever realized who really was at fault for
his coat shrinking two sizes after the dry cleaning. Nick gave Ben
the coat, which he stenciled Substance 1987 across the back and
wore until this day.

Chelsea found Thad, and she grabbed hold of
his neck. “Are you ready to get drunk? Maybe then you’ll work up
the courage to tell Kate Portnorth’s best kept secret.”

“What secret?” Jane Feldpausch asked. Thad’s
mother hated secrets. She considered them cowardly and in poor
taste, which is why she wore all her own secrets written across her
face like a walking tragedy. The world knew about her scarred
ovaries without her having to say a word. “What doesn’t Kate know?
Has the Whiley girl’s condition worsened?”

“No, mother, she’s still safely
comatose.”

“Then what is it?” Mrs. Feldpausch asked. “If
it’s about why Katie’s father isn’t here, then it is a family
matter and I have a right to know.”

With pointed smugness, Thad said, “I thought
you no longer consider him family.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Chelsea
taunted. “I’m sure everyone will be yacking about it tomorrow when
it becomes obvious there won’t be a wedding.”

“Don’t sound so cheery at the prospect,” Thad
said. He informed his mother if they didn’t leave for the lounge,
they’d undermine the Feldpausch tradition of being the first to
arrive at all social functions.

Once they left, Chelsea turned around to
discover Nick brooding behind her. Anxiously, she attempted to
maneuver her way back into the guts of the church, but his imposing
bulk easily blocked her path. It made her nervous and uncomfortable
being alone with him, and she was reminded of her lack of stature
as if remembering a forgotten disability.

Although Nick seemed preoccupied, it did not
deter him from confronting her. He moved closer, and asked calmly,
“What was that crack for, about me screwing one of the
bridesmaids?”

Chelsea pulled her cardigan tighter. “It
meant it, exactly what I said.”

“I don’t know what your problem is, but let
me remind you of one thing, tomorrow is Kate’s special day,” Nick
pointed out.

“What are you insinuating? I’m out to
sabotage your precious wedding?” Chelsea asked dumbfounded. She
added bitterly, “You’ve already done that, Nicholas. You’ve already
ruined Kate’s special day, and possibly the rest of Evangelica’s
life.”

“Just what the hell do you think went on
between the two of us?”

“I wouldn’t venture to guess.”

“I didn’t pour those pills down her throat.
What’s wrong with you? What have I ever done to you?” Nick asked,
and his face flushed with the memory of one unfortunate night back
in high school. “How many times do I have to apologize for that one
drunken time?”

“Oh, that takes the cake, you
prick-for-brains,” she burst. “You’ve never apologized, not ever—
not even once!”

“I just did, yet again,” Nick said, sounding
wounded. “You can’t believe I’m some sort of ogre, Chels. Don’t
punish Kate for my past mistakes. She deserves a perfect wedding
day.”

“What she deserves is someone better than
you. If you loved her at all, you’d tell her, tell her about your
fling with her stepsister two nights before her wedding.”

He was silent for a long moment, and then
said very deliberately, “I find it hard to believe you honestly
care what’s in anyone’s best interest but your own.”

“How can you say that?”

“When Kate’s mother died, where were you?” he
asked plainly. “I didn’t see you at the funeral.”

“You think you know everything, don’t you?
You think you have all the answers,” Chelsea said flatly. What was
going through his mind, that she was a spurned lover. “You think
I’m plotting to tell Kate about your fling with Evangelica because
of some old vendetta? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Well, it’s how you act half the time.”

“You’re so full of yourself, I can’t believe
it. Just remember I was never with you willingly,” Chelsea said.
She was fuming inside, but struggling to keep her composure. She
tugged her cropped off hair behind her ears and shut her eyes for a
few contemplative seconds. Taking a deep breath, it was all she
could do to keep from smacking his blandly attractive face. She
could not stand his sense of entitlement or the way he took for
granted he was untouchable.

“You’re so self-righteous it’s sickening,”
Nick said. He turned away unable to conceal his loathing for her.
He found Chelsea’s superiority complex even more daunting than his
mother, whom he had always considered the Queen of Condescension.
Nick detested her capacity for moral and intellectual pretension,
which automatically made her point of view lord paramount. “It’s
easy to take the high road when you’ve never allowed yourself the
luxury of actually living a life.”

She felt braver now that Nick’s back was
turned, and so she issued the ultimatum. “Thad’s too chicken shit,
so either you tell Kate – or I do, and while I’m at it I should
tell her how you forced yourself on me. What you did is called date
rape.”

Nick became so incensed he smashed his open
palm against the table. A pile of church bulletins fluttered to the
floor, and Chelsea jumped with fright. Nick asked enraged, “Did
Thad tell you about last night? I swear to god I’ll kill him if he
did.”

“You’ve already nearly killed one person this
weekend,” Chelsea informed. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Oh, cut the melodramatics.”

“I think they’ve only just begun, Nicholas,”
Chelsea said as she backed away.

She watched him standing alone in the
vestibule. Alone and struggling with feeling of remorse was how she
longed to picture him for the rest of his life. She opened the
church door, and a gust of summer breeze saturated her lungs. She
reveled in the nascent dusk. The sun was beginning to recede behind
a pinkish purple horizon, but strangely it felt as if a new day was
dawning. The more time Chelsea spent with her old friends, the
deeper was her urge to purge herself of them. She had never
pandered to Nick’s ego in the past, and she was not about to start
now even if it meant hurting Kate.