my
girlfriend cleared her throat.
“Come on, goons,” said Zora, in her iciest, she-wolf voice.
“Don't want to miss your Dad's wedding because of some pair of legs, do we?”
Chapter Fourteen
Ash
July 23 rd
My mother looked surprisingly good in her polka-dotted white
chiffon dress. Carson had deigned to help tailor it, and the fabric magically
seemed to make curves of her nonexistent hips. When she said “I do,” Anya's
face broke open like a raincloud, and I felt for an instant that maybe—just
maybe—all this marriage hullabaloo was for real.
The Pastor, in his rented tux, didn't look half so trucker-y
as usual. His greying hair was slicked back from his face, and without the
shadow of his baseball cap covering his eyes, I was more than a little shocked
to learn that his cheekbones were strong and his jawline pronounced. I couldn't
quite understand what she saw in him, but when I saw his eyes also go liquid at
the sound of the tinny wedding march sounding from the out-of-tune piano, I
felt relief. Perhaps things wouldn't go to shit after all.
Mr. Dempsey—or Nate, as he'd told me in the truck—seemed
more emotionally affected than the whole congregation slapped together. He
fidgeted beside me, and I snuck a peek of a fat tear hovering on the lip of his
eyelid as the newlyweds sashayed down the aisle. I smiled to myself. He was
definitely cute, in a hipster kind of way. He was older, and sort of a teacher,
sure—but he was kind. And I figured I deserved to have someone who was kind to
me.
Carson shot me a strange look from further down our little
bridesmaids’ aisle (for the “church” was too small for us to stand up next to
our mother, like proper attendants). At one point, I caught her trying to mouth
a question in my direction. She had a right. I had basically brought a stranger
along to my family's most intimate moment to date. But my sister's curiosity
was nothing compared to the unrelenting gaze of Landon, who hadn't stopped
staring at me since I climbed out of Denny's truck in my bridesmaid gear. I was
aware of his eyes on the side of my face throughout the whole ceremony, despite
him being clear on the opposite side of the church, flanking his Dad. Beside
him, his haughty, beautiful girlfriend kept her mouth in a rigid line—but he
didn't even glance her way. I didn't know what the intention of his gaze could
be, but I felt the whole, concentrated force of his wet brown eyes on my body
as I bent to pick up a hymnal, as I slid a tendril of hair behind my ear, as I
walked down the aisle to receive communion.
In turn, I tried not to look at him. It was kinda creepy.
There was something almost violent in his intensity—and an irrational part of
me wondered if he would come gunning for me like a charging rhino, were we to
make eyes. I supposed he was cross because I'd brought along a stranger to his
Pop's wedding, but Nate Dempsey had been nothing so far but perfectly polite.
Even though he'd arrived at the church in his band shirt and corduroys,
something in his bearing made him appear more formal than plenty of the other
podunk congregants, who murmured and swayed along to the presiding priest even
when it seemed inappropriate to do so. Nate said 'Amen' when he was supposed
to, he knelt when it was required. At one point, he reached over and took my
sweaty palm in his cool, dry one, and brought my knuckles up through space to his
mouth. He kissed the back of my hand, lightly and without looking at me. I felt
a pleasing little shock twist down my spine at his touch. It felt so familiar,
and so easy. We might have been dating for years.
Landon sighed noisily at some point after the hand-kiss, and
I watched a few people in his row swivel to shoot him angry glances. The priest
was in the middle of a lengthy speech before the vows, and Zora looked none too
pleased to see her date interrupting the preacher man. Her lips, so pretty and full,
were puckered like she'd eaten something
girlfriend cleared her throat.
“Come on, goons,” said Zora, in her iciest, she-wolf voice.
“Don't want to miss your Dad's wedding because of some pair of legs, do we?”
Chapter Fourteen
Ash
July 23 rd
My mother looked surprisingly good in her polka-dotted white
chiffon dress. Carson had deigned to help tailor it, and the fabric magically
seemed to make curves of her nonexistent hips. When she said “I do,” Anya's
face broke open like a raincloud, and I felt for an instant that maybe—just
maybe—all this marriage hullabaloo was for real.
The Pastor, in his rented tux, didn't look half so trucker-y
as usual. His greying hair was slicked back from his face, and without the
shadow of his baseball cap covering his eyes, I was more than a little shocked
to learn that his cheekbones were strong and his jawline pronounced. I couldn't
quite understand what she saw in him, but when I saw his eyes also go liquid at
the sound of the tinny wedding march sounding from the out-of-tune piano, I
felt relief. Perhaps things wouldn't go to shit after all.
Mr. Dempsey—or Nate, as he'd told me in the truck—seemed
more emotionally affected than the whole congregation slapped together. He
fidgeted beside me, and I snuck a peek of a fat tear hovering on the lip of his
eyelid as the newlyweds sashayed down the aisle. I smiled to myself. He was
definitely cute, in a hipster kind of way. He was older, and sort of a teacher,
sure—but he was kind. And I figured I deserved to have someone who was kind to
me.
Carson shot me a strange look from further down our little
bridesmaids’ aisle (for the “church” was too small for us to stand up next to
our mother, like proper attendants). At one point, I caught her trying to mouth
a question in my direction. She had a right. I had basically brought a stranger
along to my family's most intimate moment to date. But my sister's curiosity
was nothing compared to the unrelenting gaze of Landon, who hadn't stopped
staring at me since I climbed out of Denny's truck in my bridesmaid gear. I was
aware of his eyes on the side of my face throughout the whole ceremony, despite
him being clear on the opposite side of the church, flanking his Dad. Beside
him, his haughty, beautiful girlfriend kept her mouth in a rigid line—but he
didn't even glance her way. I didn't know what the intention of his gaze could
be, but I felt the whole, concentrated force of his wet brown eyes on my body
as I bent to pick up a hymnal, as I slid a tendril of hair behind my ear, as I
walked down the aisle to receive communion.
In turn, I tried not to look at him. It was kinda creepy.
There was something almost violent in his intensity—and an irrational part of
me wondered if he would come gunning for me like a charging rhino, were we to
make eyes. I supposed he was cross because I'd brought along a stranger to his
Pop's wedding, but Nate Dempsey had been nothing so far but perfectly polite.
Even though he'd arrived at the church in his band shirt and corduroys,
something in his bearing made him appear more formal than plenty of the other
podunk congregants, who murmured and swayed along to the presiding priest even
when it seemed inappropriate to do so. Nate said 'Amen' when he was supposed
to, he knelt when it was required. At one point, he reached over and took my
sweaty palm in his cool, dry one, and brought my knuckles up through space to his
mouth. He kissed the back of my hand, lightly and without looking at me. I felt
a pleasing little shock twist down my spine at his touch. It felt so familiar,
and so easy. We might have been dating for years.
Landon sighed noisily at some point after the hand-kiss, and
I watched a few people in his row swivel to shoot him angry glances. The priest
was in the middle of a lengthy speech before the vows, and Zora looked none too
pleased to see her date interrupting the preacher man. Her lips, so pretty and full,
were puckered like she'd eaten something
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