The Best Man: Part One by Lola Carson Page A

could barely pay the rent on, and a boyfriend he kept expecting to vanish from his life, find someone better.
    It’s enough to make his head spin.
    Although it doesn’t change the fact that he’s sick of stuffing these invitations into envelopes.
    Connor comes into the living room then, phone plastered to his ear and a scowl on his face. He’s wearing just his boxers, as Noah left him passed out in bed an hour ago, although that satisfaction seems to have vanished now as he pulls the phone away from his ear with a sigh and jabs at a button.
    “What’s the matter?” Noah asks him, pleased to have a break from invitation duty.
    Connor sighs again, collapses on the couch beside him and rests his head on Noah’s shoulder, all adorable dejection. “Trying to get hold of my friend.”
    “Which friend?” Noah doesn’t know many of Connor’s friends. They’ve not been together long enough, and Connor likes to keep Noah to himself for the most part. The only time he’s really been in their company was at their engagement party, with the lovely Cormack and his spiteful words, but Noah can’t even remember any faces now, let alone names.
    “You know the night I met you? The guy we had the leaving party for.”
    Noah thinks back to that night while Connor sits up straight again, picks up an invitation to examine.
    “Right,” Noah says. “I never met him. He left early, you said.”
    “Yeah, went off to conquer America. It’s a damn nightmare to get hold of him now.” He drops the invitation back on the table with a little huff, looking so much like a miserable sod that Noah can’t help but wrap an arm around his bare back, prop his chin on his shoulder.
    “Why you trying to get hold of him?”
    “He’s my oldest friend, isn’t he? Known him forever.” He shrugs, jolting Noah’s chin on his shoulder a bit. “Want him to be my best man.”
    “Oh,” says Noah.
    He’s already got his best man. There really wasn’t any question of it. Lenny’s been his saviour in life in so many ways, from giving him a roof over his head in those early days, to a steady job when he and Julie were struggling to eat. He’s been Noah’s confidant, and his father figure, and one of his best friends, and Noah owes him more than he can ever repay.
    Lenny was delighted when Noah asked him, and they’d shared a bit of a girly squeal and a hug which neither of them will ever speak of again.
    “Are you gonna keep trying him?”
    “I’ll have to,” Connor says. He looks across the room at nothing, and Noah can see years of memories flashing in his eyes. “Never imagined getting married without him by my side.”
    It’s one of the most sentimental things Noah’s ever heard him say. This guy, this old friend, must be pretty special.
    “I mean,” Connor continues, “we’ve had our ups and downs over the years. I haven’t always agreed with the things he’s done. But…”
    “What’s his name?” Noah asks, because he feels like Connor wants to talk about him, share some of this man with Noah.
    A soft smile appears on Connor’s lips. “Patrick,” he says, quietly but with a heaviness, as if the name means something, as if the very sound of it is significant. “Patrick Walsh.”
    Noah’s never heard of him.
    * * * * *
    “I don’t know, Noah,” Julie shouts over the racket of the wedding band they’re auditioning. “I just don’t think you’ve given yourself chance to really think about it.”
    Noah sighs, although it goes unnoticed in the horrendous music being forced upon them. Connor recommended this band for audition, said he’d heard them play at a friend’s wedding last year. Noah reckons he needs to get his ears tested.
    “We’ve been over this. How many more times d’ya wanna give me the talk of doom?”
    Julie shifts her chair closer while the band on stage launches into another song. In this empty hall, with only Julie and Noah as an audience, the music echoes painfully, drilling into Noah’s